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riaki · 1 year ago

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nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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somanyratsinthewalls · 5 months ago

Note

Congratulations on 700 followers Mo 😖💗....I really LOVE reading your fanfics☺️

I was kindly requesting Navy hummingbird and sloth please

Eeeek thank you so much for reading! I hope you like this one! (Honestly? I kind of wrote this with the thought of it being Burning Hearts, my Law series, adjacent.) Needy Law is so cuuuuute!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Prompt/Trope: Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac x Somnophilia

WC: 1900

Warnings: oral, sex pollen affects, somnophilia without discussion but let’s assume they have (don’t worry we’re cool!) unprotected sex, p in v sex, prone bone, creampies and breeding baby!

Happy Anniversary, Baby (18+)

— —

Law was a composed man. Over time, you had managed to worm your way through his hardened exterior to reach his nerdy, compassionate, caring center. Even as he opened up to you, he was still methodical about most things, including sex. He had the motions to make you orgasm down to a science at this point, making sure you were pleased far more than worrying about his own release. He always pulled out. He was the doctor who prescribed your birth control for god’s sake but he insisted on being careful anyway. Even if you begged him to finish inside, he was stubborn. You would never complain about your relationship with Law, he was just the way you liked him.

Law was up early one morning going over paperwork at his desk. He couldn’t sleep any longer and didn’t want to wake you from your peaceful slumber by tossing and turning, so he decided to get some work done.

After an hour or so of being engrossed in his work, Law glances at the calendar hanging on his office wall. Todays date had little pink hearts drawn around it in gel pen, by your hand of course.

“Oh shit.”

Law had forgotten about your anniversary.

He had to think of something fast, preferably before you woke up. You were always telling him he worked too much so he couldn’t imagine the ass-chewing he would receive if you found out he forgot your anniversary.

“Flowers…” He mumbles as he rises from his desk and leaves his office. He headed down the hall to the large closet you had converted into a makeshift greenhouse for your beloved hydroponic garden.

He rips open the metal door and is hit in the face with moist air and the refreshing smell of greenery. The walls and center of the room were completely covered in carefully curated small plants, vegetables, flowers, and ferns. Law steps in and closes the door behind him.

“She likes yellow…” Law mutters to himself as he finds himself overwhelmed by all the flowers around him. He was a doctor, not a botanist, he had no idea what any of these plants were so he just decided to choose something in your favorite color.

He walked up to a large bush on the left side of the room that had unique-looking yellow flowers blossoming all over it. He thought this would be as good as any so he reached out his hand to pluck at the stem of one of the blooms.

Just as he wrapped his tattooed fingers around the plant, the flower released a puff of yellow pollen right in his face. Law jerks backwards. The particles fly up into his sinuses and causes an uncomfortable tickle.

“Ah- ACHOO!” Law sneezes violently which triggers the rest of the flowers on the bush to release their own supply of pollen into the air, clouding his vision and irritating his nose further.

Law covers his face and rubs his eyes, trying to brush any remaining flower pollen off of him.

“Must be some kind of natural defense mechanism… fuck that.” Law gripes as he wipes the last remnants of the pollen from his tired face.

Law catches his breath and chooses to abandon this particular, aggravating plant. He spies a rosebush in the corner of the room. He knows what those are for sure, and as long as he doesn’t prick himself on the thorns, it should be less of a challenge to harvest them.

Law walks over to the rosebush and begins snipping off the beautiful yellow blossoms, keeping the stems just long enough to put in a vase. Once he had around a dozen roses, he left the greenhouse room to find suitable container for the flowers in the kitchen.

Rooting around in the kitchen cabinets, Law struggles to find anything nice enough for an anniversary bouquet.

He wipes sweat from his brow and realizes that he’s been having to do it every few moments… why was he so sweaty? Was the boiler on the fritz again? He made a mental note to check the furnace on the ship after he gave you your gift. Law ignores the heat creeping up through him and continues searching the cabinets.

He is pushing coffee mugs aside just as he notices the warm feeling become even more intense. Sweat was beading at his temples.

“Fuck…” Law grunts and abandons his quest briefly so he can pour himself a glass of water. He chugs the entire cup in a few gulps and slams it back onto the kitchen counter. His jeans felt tight now. He looks down. His dick was fully hard, straining against the thick fabric of his pants.

“What the hell…” Law had no idea what was happening to him. He was normally so in control of his faculties, but he now found himself painfully erect for no reason at all. He felt more droplets of sweat trickle down from his scalp to his neck. He grips the countertop and hangs his head, breathing heavily.

It had to be that plant. He had no other logical explanation for the ache in his crotch and the uneasiness he was feeling in his head. The water didn’t help. He needed your help. You knew everything about the plants in there and would know exactly what to do to make the effects stop.

Great, Law thought. Not only did he blow off your anniversary, he might have severely injured himself in the process… once again he wins the “Shittiest Boyfriend in the Grand Line” award. You were going to kill him, and at this point Law was so uncomfortable that he would probably let you. He abandons the flowers strewn across the kitchen counter and heads to your shared bedroom, desperate to find a cure to his ailment but also apprehensive of your reaction to his idiocy.

He pushes open the bedroom door and quietly slips in, so he wouldn’t startle you if you were still sleeping. Before he has a chance to even form the words he wanted to use to explain himself to you, he was stopped in his tracks by your sleeping form.

You had tossed all the covers off your body since Law had left, and you were laying on your back snoozing peacefully. Arms stretched over your head, Law’s bright yellow t-shirt emblazoned with his Jolly Roger was the only article of clothing you had on. You looked so serene, lost in your dreams, little snores escaping your parted dry lips… but Law could only focus on one thing. His t-shirt had ridden up and your thighs were spread, perfectly exposing your naked sex to him.

Law felt his entire heartbeat in his cock now. Your plump, outer pussy lips looked so delicious, so kissable, and all Law could think about now was burying his tongue in you as you slept. Without thinking, Law unzips his pants and steps out of them when they fall to the floor, hissing as his dick finally has more room to breathe. He was no longer in control of himself, he could almost smell you from across the bedroom. He needed to have you now.

He shouldn’t! The last of his sanity was pulling at his brain, begging him to just wake you up and ask you how to diffuse the effects of the flower’s pollen… but your naked cunt before him was just too much to resist any longer.

Still feeling hot, Law strips himself completely, hat included. His hands tremble with need and tension as he tries to delicately settle himself on the bed between your legs, not wanting to wake you up. He would have a small taste and then let you rest… just one little lick…

He couldn’t help it. He immediately latched his whole mouth around your sex and laves his tongue up from the bottom of your hole to the top of your clit.

“Hnnnhhh…” You whimper and shift in your sleep.

“Mmmm…” Law groans into your pussy as your sweet taste helps alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling in his body. He can’t help but hump his hard cock into the mattress below the two of you, no doubt leaking pre and staining the sheets.

Law notices you begin to stir and squirm underneath his touch, so he gently places his hands on your thighs to keep you still while he lapped at your pussy as if he was desperately parched and your body was an oasis. Becoming increasingly aroused, more of your slick leaked out of your hole into Law’s mouth which he greedily slurped up. The familiar flavor of you made his eyes roll back. He needed more.

Law pushes himself up and positions himself on his knees between your legs. He grabs his cock and strokes it a few times harshly before lining himself up with your weeping hole.

“I’m sorry baby…” Law whispers as he pushes himself into you.

“Oh…” You sigh and your eyelids start to flutter.

Without giving you time to wake up, Law sets a punishing pace with his hips and hammers into your wet cunt. Your breasts bounce freely underneath Law’s t-shirt and you rub your eyes involuntarily.

“L-Law?” You sleepily say as you gain consciousness and realize he’s on top of you and balls deep inside of you. You thought you were just having a sex dream but you were shocked to find your partner waking you up with his cock.

“Needed you now… Had to take you… You looked so fucking good and I just couldn’t stop…” Law grunts out as he thrusts into you with everything he has.

“Fuck… feels so good…” You whimper out, sleep still heavy in your mind.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ Law huffs out before you feel him press hard into you. You then get the unfamiliar feeling of him shooting a heavy load inside of your walls.

“D-did you r-really just-“ You stutter. You feel his member still twitching and hard inside of you.

“Fuck why won’t it go down?” Law grits his teeth.

“W-what?” Before you had time to question him further, Law picks you up by your waist and man handles you onto your stomach, spreading your legs again to make room for him. He pulls your hips up and presses his dick inside you again, your tender hole seeping white liquid out and coating him.

“Shit! Law!” You moan as you feel him hit your favorite spot from behind. He picks up a brutal pace as he fucks you. “S-slow down, babe!” You try to push a hand back on his abs to quell his fervor. “I’m gonna-“

“C-can’t… I can’t! Fuck!” Law huffs as he grips your hips impossibly tight, surely leaving marks. You had never seen this animalistic side of your boyfriend and you couldn’t help how much it turned you on. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge of orgasm embarrassingly quickly for someone who had just woken up.

“AH!” You yelp into the pillow below you as you cum, hard.

“Yes baby, this pussy is so fucking good, squeezing me so tight…”

You were a babbling mess as Law’s heavy thrusts send you into overstimulation.

“Gotta fucking fill you again, want you to drip for days…”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah you’re mine baby, all mine… gonna stuff you so fucking good… FUCK-“ Law almost shouts as you feel more hot liquid filling your insides, surely leaking out around his member.

Law rides out his second orgasm with a few more deep thrusts before he collapses over you and nuzzles his face between your shoulder blades.

Finally feeling relieved, Law pulls out of you tenderly before flopping on his back next to you on the bed, out of breath. You turn to your side and snuggle into him as he wraps his arms around you.

“Happy Anniversary?” Law says tentatively.

“Happy Anniversary indeed. Was that my present?” You giggle.

“I cut you some flowers, left them in the kitchen, though.” Law says as he strokes your hair.

“Wait… what flowers?!” You raise your voice as your head shoots up off his chest.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #one piece smut #law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar one piece #one piece law #law one piece #law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law smut

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theereina · 12 days ago

Text

Big Mama Pt. 5

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +7.4K 🤦🏽‍♀️

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), angst, P in V, oral (female receiving), Dom!Terry, CNC (roleplay fantasy "r-word")

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

6 months later ~ Halloween night

“Girl, why the fuck does this man have y'all stayin’ way the fuck out here?” Monica asked while driving. “That's the point. He knows I love the country. Plus, it so fuckin’ peaceful out here,” I said laughing. “’Vana, this is a serial killer's dream. Two black people in the middle of nowhere!” she blurted.

Tonight, we all went to a Halloween party as a group— Monica, Jordan, Terry, and I. The party was thrown at a warehouse downtown. It was fuckin' amazing. I had never had that much fun before. Terry even seemed to really enjoy himself, but he got sick at some point. He let me know that he was leaving early. I offered to go with him, but he declined. After he left, I tried my best to have fun but couldn't stop worrying about him. He wasn't answering my calls or texts which was strange.

I leaned over while sitting in the car. I unstrapped my heels and pulled them off. I was wearing a sexy schoolgirl costume that left nothing to the imagination. We agreed to dress up as a couple with Terry being a nerdy school professor. Our costumes made much more sense when we stood near each other, so I spent most of the night by his side.

Monica drove down the gravel driveway of the large farmhouse. Pulling to the front porch, I realized all the lights were off. It was eerily quiet— almost too quiet. Terry must have actually been sick if he had gone to bed this early. Monica's car came to a stop. She looked out into the field and stared at the barn. “This really is some serial killer type shit!” she said shaking her head. “Shut up!” I said laughing at her remarks. Monica was definitely on edge.

“I'm so done with you,” I said grabbing my heels before getting out of the car. “Just call me or text me. I wanna make sure you're safe. This shit so creepy,” she said scrunching up her nose and looking around. “Okay, scaredy cat,” I said leaning back into the window tickling her neck. “Terry is big and all, but not Texas Chainsaw Massacre big. Be safe!” she said. “Goodnight, whore!” I yelled as I turned and started walking towards the porch. I walked up the steps with the heels swinging in my hand. The front door was left unlocked because Terry had the only key. I opened the door and walked in.

I looked around the open living room in search of Terry. “Terry, baby? Where are you?” I yelled as I turned towards the hallway. Before I could move, I saw something flash across the large floor-to-ceiling window in the living room. I couldn't tell if it was a light or a reflection. I stood there for a second to see if it would happen again. Nothing. I shrugged my shoulders and proceeded to walk up the stairs. I was approaching the master bedroom door when I noticed a stain on the floor. It was a puddle of dark liquid. I couldn't tell what it was, but it smelled metallic. I leaned over in front of the door and hovered over the puddle. It looked like— blood.

I leaned up and quickly backed away from the door. I dropped the heels and held my chest. I turned back towards the stairs. I instantly wanted to flee but realized I didn't know where Terry was. “Terry, please. If this is a joke, this a fuckin' sick one!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. I turned back to look at the bedroom door. What if he was in there hurt? Shit!

I slowly walked back up to the door. I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. I opened the door slightly peeking around. “Terry,” I said whispering into the room, “I don't like this.” I walked into the room, staying close to the door. I walked towards the center of the room facing the bed. The master bathroom door was cracked open with the light on. There was a smaller puddle at the bottom of this door. I wasn't liking this at all. My anxiety was pushing my heart through my chest. Every breath was feeling like swallowing razor blades. I inched closer to the door as panic was setting in. What if Terry was on the other side of this door? What if he was hurt, what if he was dead?

As I approached the door, I noticed faint marks leading from the puddle and into the bathroom— drag marks. No! I tried my hardest to level my breathing. I placed my hand on the door and pushed it open slowly. I opened the door to find blood splatter all over the bathroom and the tub covered in it. I almost screamed but covered my mouth. I started to back out of the bathroom. My foot stepped into the puddle by the bathroom door, soaking the bottom of my stockings. Tears were starting now.

As I lifted my foot to remove the stockings, there was a loud thud at the bedroom window. I didn't want to look out, but I had to know if it was Terry. I slowly crossed the room. The window had no blinds just a sheer white curtain. I pushed the curtain open lightly to peek but hopefully not be seen. I looked out towards the field at the rear of the house. That's when I saw him— a man. He was holding an axe over his shoulder. He looked like a lumberjack. THIS WASN'T TERRY! I stumbled away from the window unsure of what I just saw. There was no way this was happening. We didn't come way out here for this shit! I slowly leaned back towards the window to look again. This time I didn't touch the curtains.

He was still there, but his head was tilted up facing the window this time. The axe was resting by his side. He slowly raised the axe and slung it onto his shoulder. I could see there was something in his other hand. Before I could investigate further, he pointed towards the window. He could see me! He raised his hand above his hand and slung whatever was in his hand at the window. I ducked behind the wall. The object hit the window with a splat.

I eased away from the window to see blood splatter dripping down. I backed up towards the bed while still facing the window. Holding my chest, I tried to sort out what was going on. Then, I heard the sound of heavy boots thumping on the back porch. He was closer now. That's when I remembered the backdoor couldn't be locked from the inside. Terry had told me this earlier that day. But if the door couldn't be locked, he could just—. Before I could finish my thoughts, I heard the backdoor open and slam against the wall. The last place I wanted to be was in the room he last saw me in because this would be the first place he searched.

So, I slipped out of the bedroom door and hid in the guest room. I could hear his footsteps hitting the stairs as I closed the door. The closer he got; the louder it became. He paused at the top of the stairs. I heard his footsteps lead towards the room I left. While holding my breath, I heard him slowly open and close the door. I instantly began weighing out all my options. I could hide here like the typical dumbass— under the bed, in the closet, or behind a door. Or, I could sneak and hide somewhere else before he sees me.

Fuck it! I was trying my luck with the second option.

I stood near the door and slowly opened it. Peeking out into the empty hallway towards the other room, I turned around and tried to close the door slowly so it didn't creak. I turned back around and began tip-toeing towards the top of the stairs. Before I could get far, I noticed the bathroom door in the hallway open. I had this odd feeling that I was being watched. I didn't want to look, but I was too afraid to make any sudden movements. I pressed my back against the railing while closely watching the opening and the bedroom door of the room I left.

As soon as I reached the banister, I felt a presence behind me. I was right! He had never gone into the bedroom. He rushed from the open bathroom, coming straight towards me. He tossed the axe to the opposite hand with ease. The mask he wore covered his head entirely, so I couldn't see his hair, face, or eyes. I tried to run away from him, but he managed to grab the back of my top. I yanked away from him, causing it to rip. I stumbled down the stairs with him close behind me.

I knew better than to run out the backdoor. There was nothing but acres of open fields. The kitchen wasn't an option either as it was in the back of the home. I ran towards the front door, leaping off the porch. I sprinted for the barn across from the house. It was far, but I had a better chance of finding a weapon to use. The barn door was open. There wasn't an ounce of light inside. Fuck it! It was too late to turn back now. I ran into the barn and hid behind a mountain of hay.

He was cocky. He didn't even run after me; he casually walked. He treated this like it was an everyday encounter. There wasn't an ounce of worry in his demeanor. His shoulders were squared, and his stance was wide. He stood at the barn entrance, searching for any signs of where I went. He knew I was in here.

He rolled his shoulders and neck. He swung the axe back and forth at his side. He turned around, facing the barn door. He walked to the side and pulled the handle for the door. He slid it across the entrance. He was sealing me inside. There was nowhere to run, but the other door. It was closed, but I only needed an opportunity to run and enough gap to squeeze through.

Walking to the corner, he pulled a metal chain across the bar on the door and locked it. Now, I was LOCKED in. I had to get to that back door. I looked around me, but there was nothing. Had I really gotten locked in here with nothing to defend myself?

I eased along the slide of the bales, trying not to make a sound. I was short enough to stay concealed as I moved. I made it to the other end of the barn before he made another move. He was at one end and I was at the other. I realized that I could go for the door. It didn't look too heavy for me to pull.

All I had to do was get to the door, push it open enough to slip through and run. That's it.

I stood as close as I could to the wall. I took a silent deep breath. I peeked around to make sure he was still on the opposite side. I slipped past the hay and ran for the door. I could see him turn to face me. I grabbed the handle and pulled it as hard as I could. It wouldn't budge. I tried to push it again and again. Nothing.

I turned around to see him walking towards me. Oh no! That's when I heard it— the sound of a chain. This door was locked from the outside. There was no way I had just done this. I kept pulling at the door. I flattened my back against it, turning to face him. He wasn't moving any closer. He stood in the middle of the barn with the axe over his shoulder. I knew for a fact that I couldn't outrun him. So, what do I do?

“Please, just leave me alone. My boyfriend's here somewhere!” I yelled holding my arms in front of my stomach. He barked out the most sinister laugh I had ever heard, before stopping abruptly and going silent. “He's dead, you dumb bitch! You didn't get that from the mess upstairs!” he yelled. The world around me began to spin. He had said the quiet part out loud. Terry was dead, and I just didn't want to believe it. “What? I gotta show you his body for you to believe me?” he said walking closer. “No!” I yelled. “No!” he yelled mocking me, “You sound fuckin' pathetic.” I was crying even harder now. No amount of breathwork or grounding would save me from this. I was about to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “So, is this the part where you run again, huh? Save yourself the trouble, pretty girl. Just come here!” he said pointing in front of him using the axe. “Fuck… fuck you!” I said crying.

His body stiffened immediately. His hand gripped the handle of the axe tighter. “I said to c’mere. Right the fuck now!” he barked. I stood where I was frozen in fear. “If I gotta come getchu or you make me chase you, so help me God!” he spat. I pushed away from the door while slowly walking towards him. I had to try something.

As I moved closer to him, I shifted my path to the side of him. I didn't want to get close to him, but did I have a choice? I stopped a few feet from him so I was out of reach. “You do know that if I swing this fuckin' axe I can still hit you?” he said frankly. I looked between us. He was telling the truth. I wasn't stopping shit. If he wanted to get me, he still could. “Come on, pretty girl. Help me, help you. Stand right here,” he said in a calmer tone.

I still didn't move— I couldn't. No matter what I did right now? I was going to die anyway.

I looked down at my feet. “Is it the axe, baby girl? Tell me,” he said tilting his head. I looked up at the axe and trailed my eyes up to his face. I could sense that he was staring at me. “Look at me, lil’ mama!” he snapped. He seemed agitated with my antics, but I didn't know what to do. He was tall and appeared muscular. My short thick ass couldn't outrun him or fight him.

He waved the axe around wildly, slinging it away. It soared through the air and landed on the barn’s upper level. “See. I'm nice,” he said raising his hands. They were empty, but I wasn't stupid. I knew a man like this didn't need weapons when his hands could do damage and kill.

I wasn't any less scared, but oh well. I walked towards him slowly, holding my breath. Once I was in arm's reach, he grabbed my shirt by the knot in the front. It tore in half. He yanked it from my body, exposing my black push-up bra. I threw my hands up to cover my chest. He smacked my hand down. “Move your fuckin' hands!” he yelled, raising his hand as if he were about to hit me again. “I fuckin' dare you!” he grunted through gritted teeth. I dropped my hands by my side, waiting for whatever was coming. Why wasn't he doing anything?

“What do you really want?” I asked. I was tired of this sicko's games. “Does it fuckin' matter? It's not like you got anywhere to go,” he said laughing. He was faking his composure. He wasn't calm at all. His hands were flexing and his shoulders were tensing up by the second. Why did I let Terry talk me into coming out here?

“Arghhh… If you don't fuckin' move!” he yelled. Fear took over, causing me to take a step back. “You know what fuck that?” he said pulling out a pair of leather gloves from his back pocket. He pulled them over his hands and wiggled his fingers. His hands filled the gloves perfectly. He closed the gap between us in two quick steps. His chest was right in front of my face.

I dropped my head. There was no point in running. “Just do it already!” I yelled hitting him in the chest repeatedly. He stood there and took every hit. His body didn't move an inch. Nothing I was doing was even affecting this man. Angered because I was tired of being toyed with, I pushed him in his chest. He shifted a little. I pushed him again. He shifted back a little more. Before I could push him a third time, he grabbed my hands. He held my hands above my head. “Stupid girl. Was that fun for you? Aww, you're fighting the big bad man. How cute?” he said mocking me.

He released my arms. I looked down and rubbed my wrists. I was caught off guard by his hand wrapping around my throat. He lifted my body from the ground and pushed me against one of the posts on the barn. “If you ever put your fuckin' hands on me again, I'll snap your fuckin' neck! Understand?” he grumbled. His teeth were grinding, and his grip was tightening. “Yes!” I managed to squeal out. “That's what the fuck I thought!” he yelled, releasing his grip.

My body hit the ground with a thud. I held my neck. I was sure there was a mark or a bruise. I was leaning over on one side. He squatted down so that he was right in front of me. Reaching to touch my face, he stroked my cheek and wiped my tears. “You're too pretty to be cryin’, girl,” he said tilting his head to one side. He was just hovering over me stroking my cheek. It was as if he was in a trance. I took in a deep breath. He let his hand roam my body. First, he groped my breast. Then, he caressed my stomach. This didn't feel right. Why was he all of a sudden being so gentle— too gentle?

His hand went lower and stopped at the top of my skirt. He looked back up at me while his hand moved down to my thighs. He pushed my skirt up and began dragging his hand along my thighs. “Damn, I know he’ll miss this,” he said moving his hand up towards my pussy. I clamped my thighs shut. No way was he about to touch me there. His face shot up in my direction. One of his hands shot up and slapped me across the face. “Don’t fuckin’ try me!” he said grabbing my chin. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could tell his gaze was locked on my face.

While still gripping my chin and focusing on my face, his hand began moving again. His hand stalled and rested on top of my pussy. He hooked his pointer and index fingers around the crotch of my panties, tugging them a little. He tore them off my body, and I screamed as the fabric scratched against my skin.

I kicked him in the chest as hard as I could. He grabbed my ankle and yanked me towards him. I tried to find something to grab onto, failing miserably. My palms burned from being pulled through the dirt. “Stop, or else!” he screamed, holding my legs down. “Fuck you! If you're going to do it, do it! Bitch!” I yelled slapping him across the face.

I turned over onto my stomach and began attempting to crawl away. He grabbed the back of my legs, pulling me back towards him. I managed to snatch one leg away. He leaned forward and jumped onto my back. His hands flew to the back of my head, pulling my hair so my back was flush to his chest. “Yell! Scream! Go ahead! Nobody can hear you, dumbass!” he said in my ear, yanking my head up. “Let me go!” I screamed.

I couldn't keep fighting him. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew only one of us would walk away from this, and it wouldn't be me. “You don't like living do you?” he said pushing me to the ground. My face hit the dirt. A metallic taste flooded my mouth— blood. I lifted my hand and wiped my mouth. I turned over, sitting on my butt. I pushed on my hands to get up. “Sit!” he screamed, knocking me back. I was tired of this shit. I wanted no part of this stupid ass game he was playing.

I pulled my knees into my chest and began crying. “Hell, nah! Shut the fuck up! The fuck is cryin’ gonna do?” he asked while grabbing the back of my head. He used his grip on my hair to pull me down before straddling me. “You know what? Maybe I was wrong. I like the way you look when you cry. Soft. Sweet. Defenseless. Scared. Yeah, I think I like this,” he said cupping my left breast. His hand wandered to my left bra strap. He pushed it down slowly before doing the same to the other side. “Take it off slowly. No need to rush. We got all night,” he said low. I didn't move. What was the point of doing what he said? Prolonging my ending life seemed futile.

He reached behind him and pulled out a hunter's knife. I stared at the blade, tensing up. I placed my hands on his chest, trying to push him away. He grabbed my hands in one of his and held them above my head. He twirled the knife in his hand before pressing it into the front of my neck. The adrenaline in my body was pumping, and my ears were ringing. “Just do it!” I yelled, sobbing. His focus shifted back to my face. I could almost see his features spread into a smile through the mask. “Okay!” he said laughing. I felt the knife leave my skin. The presence of the blade still lingering behind.

With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes. I waited and waited. Every breath seemed to bring me closer to my last. I felt his grip on my hands tighten but still nothing. What was he doing? I wanted to close my eyes but was too afraid of what I might see.

I felt the knife glide across my stomach. I felt the blade rest on the fabric between my bra cups.

rip

He sliced through the front of my bra and began making quick work of the straps as well. I opened my eyes to see him peeling the pieces from my body. My exposed nipples hardened from the crispness of the Autumn air. He raised the knife to my chest, sliding it across my nipples. The cold blade stimulated the sensitive buds. I squirmed underneath him. This was feeling— I don't know. Was I enjoying this, or was my fear driving me insane?

I moved my hands and twisted my wrists. “No,” I whimpered. “No? You sure, pretty girl? I bet if I rubbed my hand through that pussy of yours, she'd be sayin' something else! Wouldn't she?” he said putting the knife back behind him. “Just…,” I said trying to tug away again. It must have annoyed him because it earned me another slap to the face. “Quit the bullshit, baby! Let's see!” he said, placing his hands on the button of my skirt. He unbuttoned and unzipped it quickly. While grabbing both sides of the zipper, he easily tore the mini skirt in half. “Clean! I like that. You came prepared for me, huh?” he said rubbing the mound of my pussy. The fabric of his leather gloves was like ice against my skin. He scooted back on his knees a little so that he was straddling my thighs more than my waist. He stuffed his hand between my legs, palming my pussy. He cupped his hand, trailing it through my folds. He dragged his hand up and down my slit, grazing my clt each time.

I was shocked by what I saw when he pulled his hand out. Cum! What the hell was going on? “Oh! That's lovely,” he said bringing the wet glove closer to his face mask. He drew in a deep breath. “Now, I might not be the smartest man but that looks like arousal to me. Don't it?” he said bringing the glove to my face. “ Yes… no… I don't fuckin' know!” I yelled. “You might wanna admit it, baby. You like this, huh? You dirty slut!” he said stuffing his fingers into my mouth. I gagged at the force.

“Don't say shit! Just suck!” he said, leaning over me. His face was right in front of mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath through the mask. I opened my mouth wider, telling myself to just do it. I sucked on the glove lightly. “You can do better than that! Come on! The better you perform; the longer you may live. Make me proud,” he said, leaning up.

I sucked on the glove again— a little harder this time. He let his finger roam inside my mouth. I let my tongue slither around each finger, causing his dick to jump. I felt it move against my thigh. I looked down to see a tent growing in his jeans. Shit, it was big! Oh, no. I couldn't be thinking like this. What would Terry think of me?

“Don't worry you'll see it soon!” he said drawing my attention back to him. I realized that I had been unconsciously sucking on his fingers. He pulled the glove from my mouth and smeared my saliva all over my face and lips. “Sloppy. I like it!” he said, lightly tapping my cheek. “Imma let yo’ hands go. Don't do no stupid shit, okay?” he said. I nodded my head yes. What the fuck could I possibly do in this situation?

He released my hands. I instantly pulled them to my chest and began rubbing my wrists. “I'm sowwy. I shouldn't have been so rough when you're so soft and…” he said trailing his hands down my chest to cup both of my breasts. The material of the gloves felt smooth against my nipples, causing me to let out a soft moan. He broke from his trance and focused on my face again. I know he heard it. Why was I moaning from this? What the hell was going on with my body?

“Listen to me. If you promise to be nice, I'll let you live. Who knows maybe you can be my sex slave or something!” he chuckled deeply. “As if I have a choice,” I whispered turning my head. “Well, you're right about that. Shall we begin?” he asked clapping his hands. “Begin?” I asked confused. All I could see was his facial features shift under his mask. He was smiling— no he was grinning. A big sinister grin was spread across his face. He was about to enjoy whatever came next.

He lifted his hips and repositioned himself between my legs. He grabbed the back of my knees and pushed them up to my chest using one hand. With the other, he undid his belt buckle and pants. He didn't even care to pull them down completely. I watched as he grabbed his dick at the base. I immediately knew where this was going. I tried to push my legs back down, but even when using one hand he was stronger than me. He leaned over me and slapped his dick on my clit. It was heavy and hard as a brick. “Remember what I said. The better you perform…,” he said letting his thoughts trail off.

In one quick thrust, he was inside me— deep. My arms flew up trying to push his chest. “Don't do that!” he cooed. “Behave. I promise to make it worth your while,” he lulled, dodging my hands. It was like he didn't give a fuck about me fighting back. He was too focused on—. “Fine. Have it your way!” he barked.

He grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. With his teeth, he snatched the glove from his other hand. He threw it behind him. I could feel his dick twitching inside me. He grabbed my neck and began pounding into me. I gasped for air. How was he switching back and forth like that? He was nice one second, then aggressive the next. This man was a fuckin’ psychopath.

His hips snapped into my ass. “If you want me to stop, stop me!” he laughed. I knew I couldn't. I had tried and tried again. “Come on! Do something!” he yelled in my face. I was done. My blood boiled and fear went out the window for a second. “Fuck you! Kiss my fat black ass!” I yelled pushing my thighs down as hard as I could. He falls back onto his hands. I used this as an opportunity to scramble away. “Arghhh, you stupid bitch! Tell me what’re you gonna do? Huh? You can't run. You can't hide. No one can hear you!” he yelled waving his arms around. Again, he was right. What the fuck could I do?

I sat there for a minute with my back turned away from him. I was on my knees crying into my hands. Each sob racked through my body. An idea jumped into my head— this would either kill me or save me. I didn't know what to do, but I did know what I had to do. ONE FINAL TRY.

I turned on my knees to face him. “So, you're saying that… if I… if I let you do it, you'll let me live?” I asked gasping for air in between sobs. “I'm a man of my word, love,” he said sweetly. I covered my body, waiting for his next move. “Fine! Just do it,” I said getting on my hands and knees and slowly crawling toward him. I was a few feet from him when he told me to stop. I looked up to see him twirling his finger. “Turn around. You're pretty and all, but I'm sick of your face,” he spat with disgust. I turned around and sat on my knees.

He climbed behind me. His presence alone swallowed my frame. I was a big girl, but that meant nothing right now. He pushed me forward. “Ass up, face down. Don't make me repeat myself!” he yelled smacking my ass. He was sitting between my knees with his hands by his side. I got on all fours in front of him. I heard him scoff and grunt. “Fix ya’ arch. If I gotta fix it, you're not gonna like it. Let's go!” he yelled.

I arched my back and pushed my ass into the air. Without realizing how close I was, my ass grazed his dick. He growled in response. I looked over my shoulder at him. “What the fuck did I say? I don't wanna see ya’ face. Turn around!” he yelled popping my ass again. I screamed out in pain.

“Oh, shut up! It didn't hurt!” he said laughing at me. I started to sit up, but he pushed me back down. “What you movin’ for? I'm just kiddin’,” he said playfully. This man was confusing the hell out of me. How did he expect me to react? There was nothing funny about this. I moved away from his hand before he could react. “Alright, damn! I'm sorry. You know what? No, I'm not. I'm sick of your shit, you disrespectful bitch! I’ve tried being nice to you, but you don't seem to give a fuck. Why should I?” he snapped while grabbing my hair. His other hand forced my ass to meet his hips. “We're gonna learn that attitudes don't work around here!” he said thrusting back inside of me. I could feel the thickness of his dick inside me. It was clear that this was turning him on.

I felt his hand slide up my back to my shoulder. He was pulling me back on him now. He was pounding into me like I was a sex doll. I could feel my pussy beginning to ache already. As if he could sense my discomfort, he paused. Letting go over my hair and shoulder, he placed both hands beside me. He was on top of me now. Fuck! I needed to get on my back.

He began to grind his hips into me slowly. What was he doing? He leaned over so that his mouth was near my ear. The mask was warm from his breath. “Better?” he asked seductively while fucking into me. It was as if his voice had changed, and lust had taken over. It wasn't raspy anymore. It was deep and soft— smooth like velvet. “Answer me. Is this better?” he asked, pulling his dick out to the tip. “Yes,” I moaned out. It was like I couldn't control it. It was starting to feel good. “Yeah, that's what I wanna hear,” he said, pushing his dick back in. He was kissing my cervix and bottoming out with every stroke. He was honestly fucking so well. I hated this. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this, but I couldn't help it. His dick felt amazing inside me. Every stroke felt like— love. How?

“That's right. Take it. You got it,” he said. My eyes started to roll in the back of my head as I could feel his dick swelling inside me. He leaned back up and grabbed my hips. The movement of his hips was slow and—. “Ahh, shit! Wait!” I said putting my arms out to the side. I flattened my body against the ground. I was yearning for something to grab. My hands dug into the dirt of the barn floor.

“Come on. I'm so close, baby. Fuck!” he said quickening his pace. His hips were snapping into me at this point. I could feel the gentle caress of his balls slapping my clit. “This pussy is mine!” he groaned, fisting the hair at the back of my head. He pressed my head into the floor.

As his hips shifted to pound down into me, he brought one leg up so that he was kneeling. My pussy began to clench around his dick. I could feel my climax approaching. The wetness of my pussy was working against me. He was sliding in and out of me with ease. My pussy was begging for a release. I needed to cum so that I could come to my senses.

His dick was throbbing inside of me. Oh, he was close, and I wanted him to c—. No, I didn't want that. I didn't want him to do that— not inside me, but it was TOO LATE! His hips snapped into my ass with force. He grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him. He held me there, releasing every ounce of his nut inside of me.

“Ahhh, fuck! That pussy was nice. Can I keep you?” he asked letting go of me. I let my body collapse onto the ground. “One more,” I said turning to face him. “What?” he asked confused. “I didn't finish. I wanna cum,” I said pouting. I needed him to trust me because I needed this plan to work. “Can't get enough, huh?” he said, pushing me on my back. I let my legs fall open so that he could see just how wet my pussy was. I needed him to lose focus.

“Oh, you nasty slut. You like this shit! Don't you?” he asked, slapping his dick on my clit. He rubbed his dick through the mixture of our cum that was spilling out of me. He sat his dick at my entrance. “Beg, bitch! You want it so bad. Beg for this dick!” he growled, holding his dick at the base. Pride was out the door at this point. There was no turning back. “Please, I need it. Make me cum. That's all I want. Just make me cum. You..,” I said but before I could finish he forced his dick inside of me. “Ahhh!” I said moaning out.

As much as I wanted to hate this, it felt so good. His dick was hitting every spot and scratching every itch. My pussy was creaming around him, and I was leaking like a faucet. He leaned over me, placing his hands on both sides of my head. I could hear our hips slamming into each other. I rubbed my hand up his chest. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. I could feel every breath he took on my face.

He threw his head back in bliss. I was chasing two dragons at once— an orgasm and the key to my freedom. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. I could feel my orgasm approaching. “I'm about to nut!” I yelled, gripping the back of his head. I placed my head on his shoulder. I could see it. IT WAS RIGHT THERE! I let my orgasm take over and began clenching and unclenching my walls to push him into his. His strokes got sloppy, and his hips stiffened. He dropped his head on my shoulder, letting his weight fall onto me. This was it— my only chance.

I slid one of my hands down his back while keeping the other pressed to the back of his head. “Stay in me, please,” I begged. I didn't need him to move. As my hand got closer to his waistband, I felt it— the knife! I gripped the handle and pulled it from his waistband. I pulled my legs under me so that they were pressed against his chest and kicked him as hard as I could. Knife in hand, I jumped on him before he could react. Pressing the knife against his throat, I began to speak. “Tell me why I shouldn't?” I yelled. “Because…,” he said, struggling to find an answer. “Take off the mask!” I demanded. “What?” he asked. “You heard me! Bitch!” I yelled back, pressing the knife deeper into his neck. I could feel his heart racing. Wasn't shit funny to him now. “Aight, damn!” he yelled while slowly removing the mask. His hands tossed the mask away from us.

What a sight?! I leaned in closer, turning the blade on its side. “Any last words?!” I snarled. He lay there quietly. “None. Fine with me!” I said, fisting the knife. “I just hope you know how special you are, Mama. Oh, and my girlfriend gone kick yo’ ass!” he screamed.

“Terry!” I said pouting. He grabbed my face and pulled me in for a kiss. “All you had to do was keep acting scared. Dammit!” I said pushing away from him. I was straddling his waist with my arms folded across my chest going into full brat mode. “I'm sorry! You said the code word for ending the scene, Mama. How was I supposed to know you wanted to keep going?” he asked grabbing my chin. “You ruined the fun,” I said dropping my arms. “Did I though?” he asked taking one of my nipples into his mouth. “You still got one more in you?” he asked, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “How the fuck am I supposed to say no?” I asked leaning in to kiss him and dropping the knife.

He placed his arm around my waist and lifted my hips. He reached his hand between us, guiding his dick inside me. “Ouu, shit!” I moaned into his mouth. “Come on, Mama. You got it. Make Daddy proud!” he said smiling. I pushed him back onto the ground. “Here comes, Big Mama!” I yelled, giggling. I hopped onto my feet and started bouncing on his dick. My hips smashed down into his. I leaned over and began kissing his neck. “Let me have it, Mama. Let's go!” he yelled, smacking my ass. Terry let out the sweetest moan as his head dropped back. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Fuck, I couldn't help myself. Look at him. Eyes rolling. Toes curling. Moaning to the gods. Yeah, I did that! Me!

“You like that? Huh?” I asked, placing my hand on Terry's neck. I pressed down on the front of his throat. Terry's eyes shot open and his hand reached for mine. “Don't you fuckin' dare!” I said, slowing down my hips and gripping his dick with every grind. “Fuck!” Terry said letting his hands fall. “Nah, look at me. Ain't that what you said?” I taunted while gripping his neck even tighter. “Ahh, fuck. I love you!” he screamed out. “Yeah, I wanna hear that shit. Eyes on me!” I said, mocking him. His eyes opened slowly as his breathing became ragged. I could feel his heart racing under the palm of my hand. I held the grip on his neck with the other.

The sound of my ass colliding with his hips echoed through the barn. “Give me it, Daddy!” I said, releasing his neck. I sat up straight and began to ride Terry like the stallion he is. “Ahh, that's… oh, fuck! Here it comes!” Terry said, grabbing my hips and holding me in place. His hips froze as he squeezed my waist. I felt every drop of his cum paint the inside of my walls. I giggled into my hand and said, “Oh, I'm not done!”

Terry's face was overcome with shock. “You heard me,” I said, rocking my hips. “Fuck it. It's all you, Mama,” he said, collapsing backward. “Oh, I know!” I said cockily. That's when I noticed Terry was smirking. “You just don't know when to stop, huh?” he said grabbing my hips and lifting me off of him. He pushed my body over his chest so that my pussy was directly over his mouth. His tongue immediately found my clit. I was definitely about to cum from this. His mouth covered the sensitive bud as he sucked.

I felt his hands rubbing and squeezing my ass. I fell forward and began grinding against his face. I felt Terry's lips curl into a smile. “I'm about to cum,” I announced loudly. Terry popped my ass and held me down, encouraging me. His tongue slithered along my entrance. He was missing it on purpose, teasing me. I whined like a bitch. Moans were leaving my mouth repeatedly. His tongue finally found its way into my pussy. I clenched as I felt my orgasm approaching. “Ah, fuck!” I yelled, leaning up and straddling Terry's face. He removed his tongue and began sucking on my clit again. That's what did it. I came all over Terry. “Ugh… mmm. Fuck, Daddy!” I moaned through my orgasm. I could hear him laugh from underneath me. “Damn you!” I yelled, climbing off of Terry's face. “I love you, too. Mean ass!” he said. “I guess I love you,” I said, laughing while leaning over to kiss Terry’s lips.

Taglist: @brattyfics @avoidthings @cocooned-butterfly @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo @ariiijestertheklown

@armandosbabymama @gg-trini @skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @iburias @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld

@blyffe @helloncrocs @amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris

@qtmkenedy03 @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

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kaidabakugou · 2 years ago

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y’all already know i need to make it you guy’s problem as well when i’m sick so here you go :)

i love the idea of eijirou threatening you with telling on you to katsuki when you want to ignore your health

just imagine being sick or on the early stages of catching a cold when your nose is congested and you’re sneezing here and there but you have places to be and things to do so you just take some medicine and make your way downstairs to the kitchen where eijirou is making a quick to-go breakfast for you

but once he hears your groggy voice, heavier than your usual morning voice when you have to be out of the house this early, he’s immediately reaching for you and drowning you in questions to figure out what’s wrong

his lips getting all pouty and concern written all over his face when you shrug him off and tell him you’re fine

“morning beautiful”, he chirps as soon as he hears you walk into the kitchen behind him, while he continues to flip and press down on the the grilled cheese on the stove

“morning”, you answer back softly, congestion evident on your voice

“hey what’s wrong?!”, turning to you as he quickly wipes off his hands on a kitchen towel before reaching for you, gently pressing the back of his hands to the sides of your neck and on your forehead to check for a fever

“it’s nothing, just a little congested that’s all”, you say as you reach up to wrap your hands around his wrists while he stares down at you worriedly, feeling the warmth radiating from your palms around him, not boiling hot but warm enough to hint you’re starting to get a fever

“you can’t go out like this”, he finally says after staring you down for a bit

“i have to, i have reports from our last mission that need to get done quickly”, you argue as you make your way around him to grab your lunch bag

“what are you gonna do when kats sees you then?”, he says, eyebrows raised as he crosses his arms against his chest while leaning against the kitchen island

“he won’t, he’ll be out on patrol all day and i clock out before him today so by the time he returns i’ll be gone”

“not if he finds out before that”

“and who’s gonna tell him”, at this point, regardless of how bad you feel, your matching eijirou’s teasing smile as you both taunt back and forth

“listen i need to get to work, whatever you do is on you, okay?” you say as you grab the last of your lunch before giving him a kiss and heading for the door

“oookayy then, whatever you say but don’t say i didn’t warn ya”, he waves you off before going back to the grilled cheese on the stove, one that was made for you but he didn’t worry about it too much considering he waited until he heard your car leave the drive way to quickly reach for his phone and hit the call button, grin on his face since he knew you’d probably be back soon enough to be able to enjoy your breakfast

and he was right, because not even 30 minutes later he could hear your car pull up on the drive way and the sounds of your fuzzy voice accompanied by the angry blonde’s bursting through the front door with you over his shoulder

stomping his way up the stairs as you made eye contact with a laughing eijirou on the couch, flipping him off before you disappeared from his sight

returning a few moments later, this time in your pjs but still over katsuki’s shoulder as he made his way towards the couch to deposit you on eijirou’s lap

“watch her while i’m gone, and don’t let her out of your sight”, katsuki grumbles before sneaking a bite of the grilled cheese waiting for you on the table

“i won’t”, eijirou laughs as he wraps his arms around your center, laughing harder when you glare up at him

pouting at katsuki next when he leans down to give you a kiss

“yeah yeah, glare at me all you want shitty woman, it’s for your own good”

sighing before retuning his kiss, the taste of the grilled cheese on his lips making you forget how annoyed you were as you looked over to grab it, taking a bite out of it as katsuki gives a kiss to eijirou before heading for the door

both of you wishing him a good day before snuggling up to each other on the couch, rolling your eyes at eiji’s smug grin and ignoring the low ‘i told you so’ that followed against your ear

#kai.rambles #kats.eiji.kai #you guys should already expect these everytime i get my hair done bc the chemicals fuck up my nose :((#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kiribaku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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ginxyy · 19 days ago

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Becoming a family

(Ok kinda a long one. Legit just pure fluff. I would make this man a dad immediately if i could!)

The snow began to fall softly as I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck, relishing the gentle bite of winter air on my cheeks. Seoul transformed overnight into a whimsical winter wonderland, a magical blanket of white covering the bustling streets and twinkling lights that draped the city like a fairytale. I glanced sideways at Mingyu, my heart fluttering at the sight of him. He was bundled up in a navy blue parka, his dark hair tousled in the wind, yet every now and then, a few strands managed to fall across his forehead, making him look all the more charming.

We had decided on this late-night walk not just to embrace the beauty of the first snowfall, but also because it felt like the last chapter of an unspoken story one that had begun weeks ago amidst stolen glances and tender, whispered conversations. As we strolled hand-in-hand through the quiet streets of Gangnam, illuminated by the soft glow of street lamps, I felt as if the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in our own bubble of happiness.

“Do you think this is too cliché?” Mingyu joked, his warm breath visible in the cold air as he turned to face me. His eyes sparkled like the stars scattered across the night sky, and I could feel myself blushing, a quiet smile playing on my lips.

“Maybe, but it’s our cliché,” I replied playfully, tightening my grip on his hand. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

For a moment, we walked in comfortable silence, the sound of crunching snow beneath our feet accompanying the distant melodies of street performers welcoming the holiday season. With each step, I felt more alive, more at ease in his presence. Mixing the fresh, crisp air with the thrill of being with Mingyu, I had never felt so free.

The snowfall intensified, swirling around us like little shimmering dancers, and I couldn’t help but laugh as a few flakes landed on Mingyu’s nose. “Look!” I exclaimed, pointing the tiny ice crystals. “You have snow on your face!”

He mockingly pouted, wiping at the snow like a child, and I laughed even harder. The sound filled the air, punctuated by the occasional twinkle of distant bells, and I knew then that I never wanted this moment to end. Just as I was about to lean in for a quick kiss, the sound of excited chatter nearby jolted me back to reality.

A throng of fans had appeared out of nowhere, their delighted gasps filling the air, eyes wide with disbelief and joy. “Mingyu! Is that you?” one girl shouted, pointing at us.

Suddenly, we were at the center of attention. Mingyu paused, his brows furrowed as the realization of being spotted settled around us like a dark cloud. For a brief moment, I felt a spark of anxiety. Would the reality of us being seen change everything? But as I looked into his warm brown eyes, filled with the same mix of surprise and excitement, I couldn’t bring myself to feel afraid.

“Yes, it’s me!” he called out, his voice echoing with a charming zest that made my heart sing. There was something mesmerizing about how he embraced his fans, how he beamed with pride and love for them. It was what endeared him to so many, and it only deepened my feelings for him. I felt a serene joy knowing that even in our unexpected moment of vulnerability, Mingyu was still the same genuine person I had come to adore.

As the girls screamed and took pictures, I stood slightly behind him, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. I never expected to be part of his world, and now, suddenly, I was at the very center of it. Whispers cascaded around us, the energy electrifying. Scrolling through the social media site later, I’d find countless posts speculating about our relationship the seventeen heartthrob was officially off the market.

Mingyu turned back to me, brushing his thumb gently across my hand as the crowd began to disperse, realizing they may have interrupted a precious moment. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

I nodded, attempting to shake off the nervousness of the sudden press of attention. “Yeah, just a little overwhelming.”

“You know they’re gonna talk,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m sure they’ll concoct some wild stories,” I retorted, grinning back.

That night, we walked longer than intended, navigating through beautifully lit parks and over quiet bridges until the world seemed to relax around us. We talked about everything and nothing our hopes, dreams, and silly little things we loved about each other. Despite the chaotic interruption, there was an undeniable connection that wrapped around us, stronger than the chill of the winter air.

When I returned home later that evening, my heart was still fluttering, dreamlike and impossibly buoyant. The glow of the lights around Seoul lingered in my mind, reminding me of our unforgettable walk. I drifted to sleep that night, imagining the happiness woven into our moments together.

Then everything changed. The next morning, something felt off. Dizziness washed over me as I prepared breakfast, and a deep-seated sense of anxiety settled in the pit of my stomach. I brushed it off as post-excitement jitters from my late outing with Mingyu, but something urged me to take a test.

As I stared at the small window revealing those stark two lines, everything came crashing down my heart raced, and for a brief moment, I felt time freeze. I was pregnant. Tears welled in my eyes, a mix of joy, fear, and confusion flooding my senses. How do I even begin to tell Mingyu something so monumental, so life-altering?

I could already envision how his eyes would light up with disbelief and then pure joy; he had always said that family mattered most to him. But everything felt so sudden, so unexpected.

The beautiful night we shared now felt like the beginning of an entirely new chapter. I knew there would be challenges ahead, but as I held that realization close to my heart, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope. This wasn’t just a romance that blossomed amidst secrets; it was a love story paving the way for an adventure, one I hoped Mingyu and I would navigate together.

That morning, I could barely hold my phone without my hands trembling, but I knew I had to tell Mingyu. My mind raced with a thousand ways to break the news, but none of them seemed right. How do you casually tell someone that their entire life is about to change? That our lives were about to change forever.

I decided to keep it simple and heartfelt. Mingyu had always loved silly, sentimental moments, so I leaned into that. I grabbed a plain white mug from my kitchen cabinet and a black sharpie, my heart beating fast as I began scribbling across the ceramic surface.

On one side, I wrote, Best Boyfriend Ever, and on the other side, World’s Best Dad.

I grinned as I imagined his reaction. It was cheesy, but it felt perfect for us. I also added a little doodle of a baby on the bottom, just for an extra touch of fun. With the mug in hand, I paced the kitchen for what felt like hours, waiting for him to arrive. I had texted him earlier, asking if he could stop by, playing it off like I just wanted to see him.

When he finally knocked on the door, I felt like I might faint. My heart leapt in my chest as I opened it, and there he was, looking as handsome as ever with his familiar, boyish grin, bundled up in a grey sweater that made his broad frame look even cozier.

“Hey you,” he said, stepping inside and pulling me into a tight hug. I breathed him in, letting his warmth melt away the nervousness that had been building all morning.

“Hey,” I whispered, my face buried in his chest.

“You okay? You seem… different,” he said, pulling back to look at me, his eyes searching my face. “Everything alright?”

I forced a smile, trying to contain my excitement and nerves. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just well, I made you something.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, and followed me into the kitchen. I handed him the mug, watching closely as he turned it over in his hands, his eyes lighting up as he saw the first side: Best Boyfriend Ever.

He chuckled, giving me a teasing glance. “This is sweet, but I already knew that.”

“Turn it over,” I urged, my voice shaky with anticipation.

He turned the mug around, and I saw the exact moment it clicked. His eyes widened as he stared at the words, World’s Best Dad, then his gaze shot back to me. For a second, he was frozen, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to form words but couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“No way,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “No way. Are you…?”

I nodded, tears already welling up in my eyes. “Mingyu, I’m pregnant.”

For a split second, I worried about how he would react would he freak out? Would he be scared? But all my fears dissolved when his face broke into the brightest, most beautiful smile I had ever seen. His eyes shimmered with tears, and before I could even say anything else, he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe.

“I’m gonna be a dad?” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re gonna have a baby?”

I nodded against his chest, tears spilling over as I laughed through my sobs. “Yeah, we’re gonna have a baby.”

Mingyu pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands cradling my face as his thumbs wiped away my tears. “This is… I can’t believe it. I’m so happy,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

I could see the love, the joy, and the overwhelming emotion in his eyes, and it made my heart swell. He kissed me softly, over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough, and I melted into him, feeling a warmth and a peace I had never known before.

But then, just as quickly, his expression shifted. He pulled back and gave me a serious look, his hands dropping to my belly as if he were already protecting the life growing inside me.

“Are you okay? Have you been feeling sick? You need to rest more,” he said, suddenly serious. “Do you need anything? We should go to the doctor—no, wait, I’ll make you tea first. Sit down, you shouldn’t be standing too much.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly he shifted into overprotective mode. “Mingyu, I’m fine. Really. It’s early, and I’ve been taking care of myself.”

But he was already bustling around the kitchen, grabbing a blanket from the couch and wrapping it around me before insisting I sit. “I just want to make sure you and the baby are safe,” he said, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I know, and I love you for it,” I replied, smiling as he fussed over me. “But there’s something else we need to talk about.”

He paused, looking at me with wide eyes. “What? What is it?”

I grinned, feeling a mischievous excitement bubbling up. “We need to tell the rest of the band.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened again, but this time with excitement. “Oh my god. How do you think they’ll react?”

“I think they’ll be thrilled, but we need to tell them in a fun way. You know, something memorable,” I said, already brainstorming ideas.

Mingyu lit up at the thought. “Yes! Let’s do it! We can tell them all differently.” His enthusiasm was contagious, and soon we were coming up with a plan.

For Seungkwan, we decided to get him a shirt that said Uncle Boo in big, bold letters. Mingyu figured he’d be so caught off guard he might actually cry.

For Jeonghan, the plan was to wrap a baby pacifier in a fancy box and give it to him, saying it was a “VIP gift” for him. I could already imagine the look of confusion that would spread across his face before he put the pieces together.

For Joshua, we planned to take him out for coffee, casually dropping the news in between sips like it was no big deal, just to see how long it would take him to process.

We spent the rest of the afternoon planning every detail, laughing and crying in equal measure as we imagined their reactions. Each moment felt like a new step toward something incredible, something bigger than either of us had ever dreamed.

By the time Mingyu left that evening, his protective instincts had kicked into full gear. He made me promise to call if I needed anything, even if it was the middle of the night. I watched him leave with a heart so full it felt like it might burst, already counting the minutes until I could see him again.

That night, I lay in bed, my hand resting on my stomach, imagining what the future would hold. It was still overwhelming, still terrifying at times, but with Mingyu by my side, I knew we could handle whatever came our way. This was the start of our greatest adventure yet, and I couldn’t wait to see where it would take us.

A few days later, Mingyu and I put our plan into action. The anticipation had been building ever since we decided how we’d break the news to the rest of the band. I could tell Mingyu was beyond excited, though he tried to play it cool, his nervous energy spilling over as we prepared for each of the reveals.

The first to arrive was Seungkwan. He burst through the door, as usual, full of energy and his signature dramatic flair. “I’ve brought snacks!” he announced, holding up a bag of chips and candy. He tossed them on the counter, then plopped down on the couch without missing a beat. “So, what’s the big deal? Mingyu said I had to come over, but he’s been all cryptic about it.”

I exchanged a glance with Mingyu, and he grinned. He handed Seungkwan the gift bag we had prepped earlier a simple white bag with Uncle Boo written across the front. Seungkwan furrowed his brow as he took it, peering inside with curiosity. When he pulled out the shirt and read the words, it took a moment for the realization to hit.

“Uncle Boo?” Seungkwan muttered, confused. He looked up at Mingyu and then at me, still not piecing it together. “What is this supposed to mean?”

Mingyu could barely contain himself, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Think about it, Boo.”

I watched as Seungkwan’s eyes flickered from confusion to shock, and then, in one swift moment, everything clicked. His jaw dropped. “Wait… no… Are you serious?!” His voice pitched higher than I’d ever heard, and he scrambled to his feet, his hands flying to his face. “You’re pregnant?!”

I nodded, tears already threatening to spill as Seungkwan’s eyes filled with emotion. He rushed over and hugged me so tightly I almost lost my balance. “Oh my God! You’re having a baby! I’m going to be an uncle!” He stepped back, staring at me like I had just given him the most precious news in the world. “I’m going to spoil this baby rotten! You two have no idea what you’ve done. I’m going to be the best uncle ever!”

Mingyu laughed, pulling Seungkwan into a hug as well. “We know, Boo. You’re going to be the most extra uncle, and we love you for it.”

As Seungkwan wiped away tears, I could already sense his protective side kicking in. “You need to sit down. Do you need water? I’ll get you some water.” He hurried off to the kitchen, his voice trailing behind him. “And no more stress! From now on, you’re not lifting a finger, do you hear me?”

Mingyu and I exchanged a look, laughing softly. “One down,” he whispered, and I nodded, already feeling the wave of emotions that were sure to follow.

Next, Jeonghan arrived. Mingyu greeted him with a casual, “We got you a VIP gift, hyung,” and handed him the fancy box. I watched as Jeonghan slowly untied the ribbon, his face full of suspicion.

“A gift? What’s the occasion?” Jeonghan asked, smirking as he pulled off the lid. When he saw the baby pacifier, his expression shifted from amused to completely baffled. He picked it up, dangling it between two fingers, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“A pacifier? You guys are weird,” he said, shaking his head.

Mingyu just crossed his arms, trying to suppress his laughter. “Why do you think we gave you that?”

Jeonghan blinked a few times, his eyes darting between the pacifier, me, and Mingyu. Then, his eyes widened with realization. “Wait… No way. Are you…?”

I nodded, grinning through the tears that had started to form again. “Yeah, Jeonghan. I’m pregnant.”

His face softened immediately, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his lips. “No way,” he whispered, stepping forward to give me the most tender hug. “You’re going to be a mum?” His voice cracked, and I could tell he was holding back tears. “I’m so happy for you.”

For the next few minutes, Jeonghan just stood by me, his arm protectively wrapped around my shoulders, as if he were already taking on the role of the older brother. “You guys better take it easy. She needs to rest, and I don’t want to hear about you doing anything crazy.” His protective instincts kicked in faster than I expected, and I had to smile.

Soon after, Joshua showed up for coffee. Mingyu and I sat across from him at a quiet little café, where the Christmas lights twinkled in the windows. Mingyu casually dropped the news while Joshua was mid-sip, and I watched in amusement as Joshua froze, the mug hovering just inches from his lips. He stared at us, processing the information in complete silence for a solid ten seconds.

“You’re… having a baby?” he finally asked, his voice soft and reverent. When we nodded, Joshua set his coffee down and gave me a gentle smile. “That’s incredible. You’re going to be amazing parents.” His words were so full of warmth and sincerity that I felt my heart swell. Joshua, ever the calm and collected one, didn’t react with the same fanfare as Seungkwan, but the deep emotion in his eyes told me everything. “Whatever you need, I’m here,” he said quietly, reaching across the table to hold my hand. “This is going to be such a special journey.”

As the days went on, we broke the news to the rest of the band, each moment filled with more joy and more emotion than I ever imagined. Vernon’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement, and he immediately asked if he could be the “cool uncle,” while Woozi’s face turned bright red as he offered us a quiet congratulations, though I could see the pride in his eyes.

Hoshi, of course, made it his mission to outdo everyone else with his excitement. He nearly tackled me in a hug, lifting me off the ground, despite my protests that he shouldn’t be so rough. “I’m going to teach the baby all the best dances!” he declared, already imagining how he would choreograph future performances with our little one.

But it was when Seungcheol found out that I completely broke down. He had always been the leader, the protector of the group, and when we told him the news, his reaction was everything I didn’t know I needed. He didn’t say anything at first, just pulled me into a long, tight hug, his chin resting on top of my head. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “You’re going to be an amazing mum. You know that, right?”

I nodded, unable to stop the tears that flowed freely now. “I hope so.”

Seungcheol pulled back, wiping at his own eyes before smiling at me. “We’re all going to take care of you,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “From now on, you’re family, and we protect our family.”

It wasn’t long before the entire group had fully embraced their new roles as overprotective “uncles.” Everywhere I went, at least one of them was by my side, whether it was Seungkwan insisting I eat more or Seungcheol making sure I didn’t carry anything heavier than a glass of water. Mingyu, of course, had taken his protective instincts to a whole new level, constantly checking in on me, making sure I was comfortable, and catering to my every need.

There were days when the attention was overwhelming, when I felt like I couldn’t breathe without someone asking if I was okay. But through it all, there was an overwhelming sense of love, of support, of family. Each of them had wrapped me and the baby in a cocoon of care, and I knew without a doubt that this child would grow up surrounded by more love than I could have ever imagined.

As I lay in bed that night, Mingyu’s arms wrapped around me, I thought about how lucky I was. This baby hadn’t even arrived yet, and already, they had so many people who loved them so many people who would be there, every step of the way.

“I think this is going to be the best adventure yet,” I whispered, my hand resting on my stomach.

Mingyu kissed the top of my head, his voice soft and full of wonder. “I know it will be.”

Nine months passed in a whirlwind, and true to their word, the entire band treated me like an absolute princess. Each day brought a new wave of attention and affection, whether it was Seungkwan bringing me homemade snacks, Woozi composing lullabies for the baby, or Seungcheol taking on the role of personal chauffeur, insisting I didn’t exert myself too much. Even the most mundane activities were taken over by one of the boys—they handled everything with a mix of humor, seriousness, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

Mingyu, of course, had been the most attentive of all. He doted on me constantly, running out in the middle of the night to satisfy every odd craving, massaging my feet, and making sure every appointment with the doctor went smoothly. But underneath his excitement, I could tell he was nervous. The thought of becoming a dad thrilled him, but the weight of it all made him anxious too.

We were down to the final stretch, and the nursery was ready, the baby clothes neatly folded, and all the hospital bags packed. Everything was set, and yet nothing could have prepared us for that moment.

It was late at night well past midnight when I woke up to a sharp, twisting pain in my lower abdomen. At first, I tried to dismiss it as Braxton Hicks, something I’d grown used to over the last few weeks, but when the pain came back stronger and more intense, I knew something was happening. My heart raced, adrenaline coursing through me.

I nudged Mingyu, who was snoring softly beside me. “Mingyu, wake up.”

He stirred, groggy and confused. “Hmm? What is it?” His voice was thick with sleep.

“I think it’s time,” I whispered, my voice shaking with both excitement and fear. “The baby’s coming.”

Those words hit him like a shockwave. He shot out of bed, his eyes wide with panic. “Wait, what? Now? Are you sure? Oh my god okay, okay, okay what do we do first? The hospital! Right! We need to get to the hospital!”

I watched in amusement as he stumbled around the room, trying to pull his pants on while simultaneously grabbing the hospital bag and his phone. He was muttering to himself the entire time, his usual composed demeanor completely gone in the chaos. “Where are my keys? What about the car seat? Do we have snacks? What if we forgot something?”

“Mingyu, breathe,” I said, trying to keep myself calm despite the increasingly sharp contractions. “We have everything ready. Just get me to the car.”

He nodded frantically, still fumbling with his phone. “Right, right. The car! Let’s go.”

As soon as we were in the car, he began speeding through the quiet streets of Seoul, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Every few minutes, he would glance over at me, his eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot? Oh my god, you’re so strong. We’re almost there, okay? Just hang on.”

Between contractions, I managed a weak smile. “Mingyu, calm down. I’m okay… just focus on driving.”

By the time we reached the hospital, Mingyu was practically vibrating with energy. He jumped out of the car, running to my side to help me out, though his hands were shaking so badly that I had to reassure him again. “I’m fine, really. We’re going to be okay.”

Once inside, the nurses quickly got me settled into a room, and Mingyu, who was still visibly freaked out, finally stopped pacing long enough to sit beside me. He grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly as I breathed through another contraction. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “We’re about to meet our baby.”

It was in that moment despite the chaos, the pain, and the panic that a sense of calm washed over me. This was it. We were about to start the next chapter of our lives, and I couldn’t have asked for a better partner by my side.

But just as I was beginning to settle into the rhythm of labor, Mingyu’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced down, his eyes widening. “Oh no. I forgot to tell the guys!”

He quickly answered, and I could hear Seungkwan’s voice on the other end, frantic and high-pitched. “WHERE ARE YOU GUYS? WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR NEWS!”

Mingyu fumbled with his words, trying to explain the situation between checking on me and answering the nurses’ questions. “Uh, yeah, we’re at the hospital. She’s in labor. It’s happening now.”

Apparently, that was all Seungkwan needed to hear, because within minutes, the entire band was blowing up Mingyu’s phone with messages and calls. They wanted updates, details, everything. And then, of course, they all announced that they were on their way to the hospital.

“What? No! You don’t need to come wait, okay, fine!” Mingyu blurted out, clearly overwhelmed by the chaos already erupting on the other end of the line.

Sure enough, not even an hour later, I heard the telltale sound of commotion in the hallway. The boys had arrived, and from the sounds of it, they had caused quite the stir at the nurses’ station. Voices carried through the corridor as Seungkwan tried to charm his way into the delivery room, while Seungcheol attempted to explain to a nurse why they needed to be there right now.

When the door finally swung open, the chaos came spilling in with it. Seungkwan, Hoshi, Seungcheol, and Vernon all burst into the room, breathless and wide-eyed, each of them talking over the other in a rush to see how I was doing.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Seungkwan asked, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting something catastrophic to be happening. “Do you need anything? Do you want me to sing to calm you down?”

Hoshi, ever the performer, chimed in. “I brought a playlist of relaxing songs! We can play it while you give birth.”

Vernon looked genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed as he glanced between me and Mingyu. “Do you need water? I’ll go get some water.”

Seungcheol, of course, was the only one trying to maintain some semblance of order. “Alright, everyone, calm down. Give them some space,” he said, though his own voice was strained with emotion. “This is a big moment.”

I couldn’t help but laugh through the pain, grateful for their chaotic love and concern. “Guys, I’m fine,” I managed to say, though my voice wavered as another contraction hit. “It’s just… a lot right now.”

Mingyu, who had been pacing again, stopped and came to my side. His face was flushed, and his eyes filled with both awe and terror. “She’s doing amazing,” he said, as much to the guys as to me. “But… maybe you should all wait outside until it’s time.”

Reluctantly, the group agreed, though not without promises to be right there the moment the baby arrived. “We’ll be in the waiting room,” Seungcheol assured me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Just yell if you need anything.”

As they left, the room grew quieter, and I turned to Mingyu, who was now holding my hand with both of his, his gaze locked on my face. “You’re so strong,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “I can’t believe we’re about to meet our baby.”

The hours blurred together in a mixture of pain, anticipation, and excitement, but through it all, Mingyu never left my side. His hand was a constant source of comfort, his words of encouragement carrying me through the toughest contractions.

And then, finally, the moment came. After what felt like an eternity, the cries of our baby filled the room, and everything stopped. Time seemed to freeze as the nurses placed the tiny, squirming bundle in my arms. I stared down at our baby, tears streaming down my face, unable to comprehend the depth of love I felt in that moment.

Mingyu was beside me, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch the baby’s tiny fingers. “We did it,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “We’re parents.”

As I looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears, I knew that no matter how chaotic, how overwhelming this journey had been, it was all worth it. We had created something beautiful something that connected us in a way that nothing else ever could.

In the hallway, I could hear the muffled cheers of the band as they celebrated the baby’s arrival. Even though they weren’t in the room with us, I knew they were part of this moment, part of this family we had built together.

We were a family now a chaotic, loving, overwhelming family. And as I held our baby in my arms, surrounded by Mingyu’s love and the band’s excitement just outside, I knew we were exactly where we were meant to be.

It’s hard to believe how much time has passed. Our little Lia, once so tiny and delicate in my arms, is now a walking, talking whirlwind of energy and sass. At three years old, she’s already mastered the art of wrapping everyone around her tiny fingers, especially her dad and the rest of the Seventeen boys.

Lia has them all under her spell, and she knows it.

“Mingyu-ya!” her little voice calls from the living room one morning, her pronunciation still adorably toddler-like but clear enough to demand attention.

Mingyu, who had been washing dishes in the kitchen, immediately drops everything at the sound of her voice, sprinting toward her as if his life depended on it. “Yes, princess?” he asks, kneeling down in front of her with a grin that shows just how much he adores her.

She scrunches up her face in mock seriousness, crossing her arms over her chest. “Daddy, why is my elephant not dancing?” She points to the stuffed toy on the floor with a pout.

I stifle a laugh from the doorway, watching as Mingyu immediately picks up the plush elephant and starts doing a ridiculous dance routine with it, making exaggerated noises as if it’s singing along. Lia bursts into giggles, her laughter infectious as she claps her hands in delight.

“See, I told you! Daddy can make the elephant dance,” she declares proudly, as if she had orchestrated the whole performance. And, in a way, she had.

It’s not just Mingyu she has wrapped around her little finger, though. The entire band falls over themselves for her.

There was the time we visited the studio and Hoshi had come running over with wide eyes after Lia demanded he help her “roar like a tiger” while she was playing with some animal toys. Hoshi, ever the dramatic performer, immediately crouched down and gave her the loudest, most exaggerated roar. The two of them then spent the next hour roaring back and forth at each other, while the rest of the band just watched in amusement.

“Hyung, you’re seriously getting schooled by a toddler,” Vernon had teased, but even he wasn’t immune to Lia’s charms. Within minutes, he’d been roped into playing “jungle” with them, crawling around on all fours while Lia rode on his back, giggling uncontrollably.

The best part? Lia’s bossy, sassy side was almost always on full display, especially when she felt things weren’t going her way. One day, she had the audacity to sit Seungcheol—the Seungcheol—down and tell him very seriously, “No, no, Uncle Cheol, that’s not how you build a castle. You’re doing it all wrong. Watch me.”

Seungcheol had looked utterly baffled but also completely charmed. “Oh, really? I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?” he asked, genuinely listening as she showed him how to properly stack the blocks.

“I think I need some lessons,” he muttered to Mingyu later, laughing at how Lia had taken control of the playtime.

Even Woozi, usually so serious and focused in the studio, couldn’t resist Lia’s pull. Whenever we visited, Lia would inevitably waltz in, head held high, demanding to sit on his lap while he worked. Woozi, who didn’t like being interrupted during his creative process, was a complete pushover when it came to her. He’d let her press a few keys on the piano, giving her an approving nod as if she had composed a symphony, while she smiled up at him proudly.

“You’re my assistant now,” he’d say in his deadpan tone, but there was always a glint of affection in his eyes as Lia “helped” him with his work.

And of course, there’s Mingyu, who has turned into the most doting dad I could have ever imagined. He’s completely smitten with Lia he’s always been loving and protective, but when it comes to his daughter, he’s on another level. I often catch him watching her with the softest expression, like he can’t quite believe she’s real.

One night, after Lia had been particularly bossy during bath time (“No, Daddy, you’re not washing my hair right! Use more bubbles!”), I found Mingyu sitting on the edge of her bed, brushing her hair gently as she fell asleep. He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and whispered, “I love you, my little princess.”

It’s moments like these that make my heart swell. Seeing him so in love with our little family it’s everything I could have hoped for.

There was also the infamous “band meeting” Lia had hosted when she decided she wanted to put on a fashion show with her princess dresses. She marched into the living room, hands on her hips, and announced to the guys, “Everyone, listen up! I need you to watch me. Sit here!” She pointed to the couch, directing them as if they were her loyal subjects.

Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Joshua sat dutifully, clapping every time Lia twirled around in one of her dresses, their cheers loud enough to rival an actual concert. At one point, Joshua even got up and pretended to be a fashion show announcer, describing each of her outfits in detail, much to her delight.

Seungkwan had tried to outdo him by grabbing a feather boa and twirling it around as Lia’s “assistant.” “You’ve created a monster,” he’d joked to Mingyu, but the proud dad just shrugged, grinning ear to ear.

“She’s perfect,” Mingyu would always say, his voice filled with pure adoration. And I couldn’t agree more.

One of the funniest moments came just a few weeks ago. Lia had overheard me talking to Mingyu about a show Seventeen was preparing for, and in typical Lia fashion, she decided that she needed to be involved too.

“Dad, I need to be on stage!” she said with a serious expression, tugging on her dad’s shirt.

Mingyu, ever the indulgent father, crouched down to her level. “Oh yeah? What would you do on stage, princess?”

She looked at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ll sing! And dance! And you can dance behind me.”

At the next rehearsal, true to her word, Lia showed up in a sparkly dress, marched right onto the stage where the guys were practicing, and demanded to have her moment in the spotlight. The band had stopped everything to let her perform her own little routine, complete with a very enthusiastic rendition of the ABCs and a dance that mostly involved spinning in circles. The guys cheered like she was performing in front of thousands, and Mingyu’s eyes shone with pride the entire time.

Every day with Lia is filled with moments like these moments where she’s the center of attention, where she commands the room with her sass, her bossiness, and her irresistible charm.

And through it all, Mingyu and the rest of the band are completely wrapped around her finger, never hesitating to indulge her every whim.

I love watching them together the way Mingyu’s face lights up every time Lia walks into a room, how the guys drop everything when she demands their attention, and the way our little girl has filled our lives with so much joy and laughter.

As I sit back and watch Mingyu helping Lia color outside on the balcony, her little legs swinging from the chair, I realize how blessed we are to have this family. Mingyu is in love with every moment of fatherhood, and I can see it in the way he looks at her his world revolves around her and, by extension, around us. The band, too, has become more than just uncles to Lia.

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punksocks · 9 months ago

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Astrology Observations: No.28

*just based on my observations, only take what resonates

(Sorry it’s been a minute, I got my time back then I got sick- like same day! I’m good now, thank god, but it was absolutely insane and everything has been going on in the world, my God)

-If your moon opposes your ascendant you may be known for making the wrong impressions on people (especially first impressions) at some point in your life

-Not the first time I said this but I feel like Libra Asc tend to need to balance out aspects of their life more bc of their houses having the opposite signs over them.

-On the other hand I feel like Aries asc have a very straightforward, sometimes less complicated world view bc of their houses lining up with their traditional rulers.

-Mars in determemt and fall (Libra, cancer, 12th house) really gives you a finite amount of stamina

-I feel like cancer venus/moons tend to wax the most poetically and romantically about the nostalgia they feel. Even stronger for Venus.

-Men with cancer placements be like: I didn’t know I was manipulating you into being nice to me until it was already happening (lmao oof)

-I noticed Aries and Scorpio Sun men/masc folks can get romanticized a lot, I think this is bc their identity is ruled by mars traditionally, so they tend to be assigned more masculine traits/act their traits out in a more “traditionally” (or even just comfortably) masculine way

-Aqua Sun/asc/venus usually have some features that makes their face really stand out I noticed (unique brow/nose/head shape etc) (idk why I haven’t seen this with moons as much)

-Signs in your 8th house may come off as mysterious or hard to understand

-You may find it really easy to vibe with people that have Sun conjunct your Asc

-I’ve noticed that a lot of Virgo mars may eat like really spicy or punishing foods (especially if the mars is in a fire house)

-Saturn aspecting your big 3 can help you age really well- depending on how well you take care of yourself (extreme example: dick van dyke, he’s almost 100 and he’s still jumping around with so much energy)

-Pisces placements can be like incredibly intelligent and yet still come off as a bit spacey (one of my favorite YouTubers used to head extra credits and he is SO SMART, like just a seriously huge capacity for knowledge but he sounds spacey when he does his chill gameplays and pieces things together unscripted lol)

-Jupiter square/opposition Sun can make you come off as overly pessimistic, it can also make you come off as optimistic at the wrong times (laughing at serious moments, etc)

-Taurus placements are so motivated by food, it’s so real (the amount of times I’ve had a Taurus sun/moon/mars not hear a word I was saying bc they were scoping out a restaurant? Countless lol)

-I notice a lot of rappers & musicians (especially the innovative ones) have major Pisces placements

-Aries moons get emotional fulfillment by winning what they chase after (Aries in big 6 tends to make you go after things in general too imo)

-I noticed sometimes Leo moon can make you a bit self centered, like in the most literal sense, you may have trouble understanding perspectives outside of your own

-Virgos and Geminis and 3rd/6th house placements have great memory but they tend to forget certain aspects. They tend to forget or mix up details. (My ex took like 3 years to remember my middle name beyond the first initial lol god; also, I always remember zodiac signs but not birthdays lol)

-I love how Joe Pera has a cancer Mercury and his comedy is like the coziest comedy I’ve ever heard, he even got his following bc his helping people fall asleep and just talking through his chill podcast (did not expect him to have like the most fire in his chart tho?? Wouldn’t have guessed lol)- Pisces Mercury and Mercury with hard aspects to Neptune probably have a cozy affect on others when they communicate with them too

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notjustjavierpena · 9 months ago

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His

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This has been on hiatus since July. I have finally decided to finish up another chapter. I have no idea where this is going but I am just going with it at this point. They’re fun! Enjoy part 4 of mean!joel ❤️💖

Summary: After Joel kisses you, something shifts. You find out a hard truth and take matters into your own hands.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, a mishmash of feelings, dubcon-ish themes, a hint of sub!joel (?!!!!?!!??) but he is not happy about it, a hint of edging, handjobs, degradation, humiliation, riding, unprotected piv, slapping, dirty talk, empty threats

Word count: 3.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48179338/chapters/135617983

His

Something shifts after Joel kisses you and leaves. Especially because he did it in a way that made it seem like he was bolting out of a burning building, leaving you inside for the walls to come tumbling down around you. You hardly blame him for reacting like he did that night; he is the most emotionally unavailable man you have ever had the (dis)pleasure of meeting, and you doubt that he even has the vocabulary to put words to why he fled your bed like it was the scene of a crime. It isn’t like you’re going to ask him though, not even despite being curious about his reasoning and intentions.

For you, it is not a mystery what the shift is. The arrangement between the two of you used to be anticipation, fury, and lust. Now it’s a gentle tug at your heartstrings when you catch a glimpse of him in the streets and he doesn’t look your way, knowing you should not want him in the way you do.

How you want him is harder to pinpoint. It’s not wedding bells, it’s not children padding around on the wooden floor of your home, it’s not doing laundry for him and watching him do the dishes after sharing a meal. It’s something less complicated than love. You don’t want him to love you, but you wouldn’t mind being his only and his favorite.

Though irony would have it that it turns out you are indeed not his only source of whatever fucked up thing the two of you exchange once in a while.

During a short break from a late-night meeting of your patrol group (Joel had decided last week to switch to another), one of the newcomers to Jackson snickers girlishly as she tells the rest of you about how Joel Miller had made her come four times last weekend. It makes something uncomfortable swirl in your stomach, makes it drop as you feel foolish about thinking you were special. Additionally, it takes all the willpower in you to not blurt out that he had made you come seven times during one of the nights you’d spent together.

To your surprise, It isn’t that he has slept with someone else that hits you. It’s the little piece of information that your new patrol member lets slip with a giggle.

“Such a gentleman,” she says, basking in the attention of the circle of women standing around her. Their collective sigh makes you wonder what they’d say if you let them know that Joel forced you to suck him off the first time you were together. A part of you suspect that she is lying as she continues, “They don’t make ‘em like that anymore, girls. He was just so attentive and sweet.”

After the meeting, you feel like you’re about to suffocate if you don’t leave the building quickly. The tightening in your chest makes your heart feel caged, desperate to come out into the open and bleed all over the place from making its way past your ribs. Desperately, you push past anyone who does not jump out of your way immediately.

Once outside, you find a quiet spot behind the community center where people only come to be alone. You rest your forehead against the side of the building, breathing deeply in through your nose and exhaling shakily as you suppress the tears that threaten to roll down your face.

“Fuck,” you say bitterly as a droplet still manages to escape from the corner of your eye. You wipe it away with a quick swipe of your hand as if to hide the evidence from the world and yourself, “Fuckfuckfuck. What the fuck are you crying over him about?”

However, the single tear seems to have opened the floodgates because you find yourself properly crying a few seconds later. It is ridiculous, you know this, but you cannot help the shaky breaths that leave your mouth as your cheeks stain with tears.

Joel is not anything special. Joel is rude and arrogant, bordering on narcissistic and psychotic. You’re not even sure if he can smile, if he’s funny, or if he’s capable of not ruining things when touching them. He sure has ruined you, ruined both your nights and days because they’re spent wondering about him.

Then again, surely he must know this because he looks at you from across the room the way he does. He must know what he is doing to you, and it makes you fucking furious because how did he ever think that he had the right to pursue you? Make you want him? And, to top all of it off, how does he think he has the right to not appreciate you?

Rage slowly builds in your chest. Your heartbeat is threatening to make you pass out with how fast it is going, but you ground yourself by taking a few deep breaths that eventually stop your tears as well.

I’ll fucking show him, you think, and it’s the white-hot fury in you that is talking.

You stalk across the streets of Jackson, earning a few concerned glances but no warning words. It’s a relief that you look angry enough for people not to bother you, because you wouldn’t be able to articulate your reasons for wanting to implode with how furious you are.

Your legs take you all the way to Joel’s house. You stomp angrily up the porch’s stairs, but it’s only when you burst Joel’s front door open that you realize that you actually haven’t been in his home before. It’s also only then that you realize that you have no idea what you’re going to do now that you are here, too angry and out of your damn mind to explore the many pictures on the walls, the wooden carved figures on the shelves and… is that a guitar?

You mentally shake yourself.

“Focus on the task at hand,” you say quietly with exasperation, and then the search for your betrayer begins.

You walk through the house with determination, but you soon realize that he is nowhere to be found downstairs. It doesn’t surprise you that he hasn’t locked his door (nobody in Jackson does), but you still feel disappointed that you can’t make a big dramatic scene of throwing a plate in the kitchen or a cushion in the living room. You feel slightly like a rage-filled balloon that’s slowly losing air.

So you decide to go upstairs whilst still clinging to your rage, planning on waiting in his bedroom for his return but realizing that Joel is already in and sleeping in his bed. It’s late enough, you suppose, and you know he has a series of hard labor tasks on certain days.

You try your hardest not to feel too intoxicated by the smell of him on the sheets, need your head clear as you slowly start to undress right in front of his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful and so unlike his usual stoic self, and so vulnerable that the opportunity is too great to miss.

You freeze the times he stirs slightly but he never wakes up, and soon, you are down to your underpants and nothing more and you are so wet with the anticipation of both sex and power in the room, even more with Joel being so unaware of it.

The bed creaks as you crawl onto it. You manage to straddle Joel before he wakes up fully, immediately lifting his arms to grab you and defend himself but when he realizes it’s your body on top of his, he falters.

“What’re ya doin’ here?” His voice is filled with sleep but he is nowhere near panic as you had hoped.

You lean down over him and grab at his chin with the hand that’s not holding you up. You smile down at him but Joel is already staring down at your chest as you hover above him. You shake his head slightly, “Eyes up here, you bastard.”

“Shouldn’t look so pretty then,” he retorts.

“Heard you were screwing around with that new bimbo. I thought you liked a challenge,” you tighten the grip on Joel’s jaw, push him back into the mattress, and catch the way he is connecting the dots in his head but the time it takes him makes you realize that there has been more than her. You growl, still hovering over him, and leaning down to ghost your lips over his whilst your eyes roam over his face, “It’s a damn fucking privilege to be breathing the same air as me.”

“Cute,” he says quietly and brattishly.

You push down briefly before letting go. Your eyes look down at his lips but you don’t kiss him like you want to, don’t want to give in when it would seem so vulnerable to give in to that temptation.

Instead, you reach up to hold your palm in front of his mouth. You smile innocently, “Lick it.”

“What?” He chuckles in disbelief.

“Go on. Do as I say.”

Joel lets out his tongue and wets his lips. He gives in faster than you have anticipated, licks a long stripe from the start of your wrist to the middle of your palm, and coats your hand in disgusting, hot, and dirty saliva.

“Did she do that?” You ask. You feel behind yourself to slide a hand down into Joel’s jeans and then past the waistband of his underwear, “Put you in your place because she knows how disgusting you are?”

Joel is already half-hard as you take him in your slicked palm, and his cock comes alive fully not a moment later. He gasps into the bedroom but still looks cocky as ever, “Which of ‘em?”

“Fuck you,” you stroke him slowly and his breaths come out in small puffs that hardly make him seem calm and composed. You realize how much you’ve needed, craved, to put your hands on him.

“That can be arranged,” he says, trying to catch a glimpse of what you are doing to him. He starts to move, makes an effort to flip you around but you catch him before he can follow through. You tighten your grip around his cock, squeezing him around the base until he gasps softly.

“No one but me,” you say, “Okay?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart, what is this?” He rolls his eyes and moans when you stroke him once and then twice.

“Are you going to behave?” You ask with a harsh grip again. You let your lips touch briefly now.

“What?” Joel looks slightly disgusted.

“I asked,” you begin and now you start to stroke him properly, mimicking what you have seen him do to himself when he has wanted to come on your face, “Are you going to behave, Joel?”

“No,” he teases.

“Don’t make me ask once more, baby,” you move your hand up and down quickly, almost forcing him to near orgasm before you squeeze around the base to edge him. He hisses, neck blushing with how his heartbeat must be on overdrive.

“Fuck,” he groans, throbbing in your hand, and with his snark, you almost just want to spend hours tracing the vein along his length with your fingertip, “Whaddaya want? You want me to be your little boyfriend or somethin’? Don’t be dumb, it don’t suit ya.”

“Listen,” you say, scooting back slightly and leaving a stain of your slick on the bottom of his t-shirt, “I’ll stick your big cock in me right now and let you come in me if you say I’m your only girl. You’ll never need another pussy than this.”

He says your name as you straighten on top of him again but you let him know it doesn’t mean anything to you. Your free hand reaches to pull your panties to the side, and then you hold his cock in place as you slide down onto it and let it stretch you by bottoming out inside of you. You try your best to look motionless but he has a girth that stings.

“Say it,” you demand, slightly out of breath at the feeling of sitting on his thighs now.

Joel is silent. He stares up at you, looking as if he has won because he is already inside of you but when you don’t hear an answer, you start lifting yourself off of him again. Joel grabs your hips in protest, holds you down, “No.”

“Then say it,” you reply, “Now.”

“You’re my girl,” he moans helplessly as you reward him with a roll of your hips. You make a noise as well, something closer to a tiny cry for him but you aren’t going to give in just like that.

“The only?” You inquire when you regain your composure.

“My only girl, even if she’s a fuckin’ pain in the ass,” he groans. You flex your thighs to grip him around the middle and then you squeeze his length, letting your walls clamp down and it sends his eyes rolling backward. He bucks up his hips and you moan.

However, you still have more to say and do. You don’t move yet, “I don’t believe you.”

Joel rolls his eyes, his grip on your hips tightening but he still doesn’t force you to ride him, “Jesus Christ, what the fuck now?”

“I think you’re a liar,” you inform him, trying to ignore how much every instinct in your body is telling you to use his dick for yourself. You squeeze around him again, “I think you’ll say anything to get pussy.”

“No one’s got a pussy like yours, sweetheart. You think I don’t know that?” He bares his teeth like an aggressive, cornered dog and he groans at the feeling of your soft, wet walls, “You’re like fuckin’ cocaine. Need more each time or I’ll never recover.”

“Don’t go finishing in me, Joel,” you scold.

“I ain’t gonna,” he bites back, “I do have some self-control.”

“With the way you’ve been whoring around?” You tut, experimentally rocking your hips forward to feel him slip almost all the way out of your cunt. You move back to let him bury himself deep once more and whine, “Riiight.”

“Watch it, we’re only doin’ this because I allow it. I could break ya spine like a fuckin’ toothpick,” he breathes, hands going up along your thighs until he lets them glide up your back as if he is going to make truth of his threat, “Don’t forget who has the upper hand here.”

You relish in his rough hands on your lower back and finally start up a pace to ride him properly, not caring about how your thighs start to burn as you seek out pleasure. It’s a fun contrast to what Joel has just told you because his eyes glaze over in a way that shows you that he wouldn’t even know how to snap you in half if he wanted to.

His breath has quickened, each intake and exhale becoming airy, whilst he holds your soft sides in his calloused grip. You rest your palms on top of his forearms, undulating your hips until his eyes roll back. He seems like he might lose his mind this time around, so submissive in his own way now that what you are doing to him has hit him by surprise.

He shamelessly groans your name. Its roughness spurs you on, making you lean forward a little further to give him more. You ride him as if your life depends on it until something burns delicious in your belly and his pelvic bone grinds into your clit.

Your first proper moan leaves you, high and squeaky. The angle has you baring your teeth, your breathing shaking, from how his cockhead stabs at your front wall repeatedly. You start spitting filth to not sound pathetic even further, “Fuck, Joel, your big cock is enough to make a girl lose her sanity. Makes my eyes wanna roll back.”

But Joel says nothing as he seems pissed off by what you have made of him. Instead, he breathes hard through his nose and occasionally lets a moan fall from his mouth. It pisses you off too. He had such a smart mouth just moments ago, and now he has resorted to being spiteful.

You make a rash decision then. You move steadily on his cock, rhythm not faltering once, whilst reaching down to his face with your dominant hand. You smack his cheek hard enough to make a point and a noise, eyes narrowed, “Snap out of your ego tripping.”

Joel responds not with words but by curling his hand around your wrist and yanking it away, and then he takes hold of your smaller body once again and starts snapping his hips upwards, crashing them into yours until you nearly topple off of him after crying out. He tightens his hands on your body whilst you hold his forearm with one hand and have the other firmly planted on his chest, and suddenly you are working together towards a crescendo.

“Give it to me!” You yell with your eyes screwed shut from the pressure against your clit and g-spot. Joel is swearing and his chest is glistening with sweat but he gives in to your command, making you bounce in his lap until he throws his head back and yells with you.

“Fuck, honey,” he grits out, “Gonna make me come inside ya tight pussy.”

“Oh, it talks?” You quip, trying to hold back a pathetic string of cries but to no avail. Joel smooths his hands up to cup your body just below your breasts, digging his thumbs into your rib cage.

“Shut the fuck up,” he retorts.

“I’m gonna come,” you say instead and furrow your brow.

“Yeah?” He mocks but then his face goes slack and you feel him twitch inside of you, impossibly close to the edge too, “Fuuuck, I can feel ya. Choke my cock real good, Doll.”

You come hard, unable to catch your breath as you keep moving back and forth on his length. Your whole pussy pulses, tight walls gripping him even further. The fingers holding onto his forearm make little indents and your nails on the other hand scratch into his chest until red lines form. And you cry. Oh, you cry and cry for him whilst singing his name.

The clenching of your cunt around his dick makes him reach his own point of no return a moment after. He does a sharp intake of breath and when he exhales even sharper, a groan follows, and his cock releases come inside of you.

You use your last bit of energy to ride him through it. Your delirious mind, hazy with pleasure, makes your mouth run as you slowly drag your hips to match each twitch of his length, “See? She can’t love you like I do. Is that really what you want, Joel?”

Joel pants underneath you. He tenses up when he hears those words but instead of pulling away, he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you down, “What the fuck did you just say?”

Your eyes widen slightly at the realization. In your chest, your pulse beats rapidly, “Just ‘cause I said it, doesn’t mean that I meant it.”

Joel tightens his grip briefly but then lets go. He sighs, then reaches up to rub his forehead in frustration, “I don’t have the strength.”

“What’s so bad about it?” You ask, figuring that you might as well jump into the conversation now that you’ve been stupid enough to start it.

“Don’t,” he warns, letting out a noise as he moves to pull out of you. Your panties move back into place, causing you to shiver.

“Please,” you know it is weak of you.

Joel says your name, mimicking the tone of a parent who is tired of hearing their child pestering them about something. He finds your eyes but doesn’t say anything else.

“Just let me try something,” you continue and earn a raised brow. He stops trying to move. You swallow thickly but decide to be brave.

Carefully, you curl your fingers into Joel’s chest hair and reach for his cheek with your other hand. You close the distance between the two of you, finding his mouth with your own and kissing him with a lot less vigor compared to what you have just done.

Underneath your palm on Joel’s chest, you can feel him exhale in something resembling relief. He doesn’t fight the kiss, no, instead he moves his arms and holds your waist. He kisses you back with closed eyes and soft hands, and you try not to ruin it by becoming eager.

A few moments pass. When you finally pull away, he looks like a deer in the headlights of a car but you talk before he can, “Go to sleep. It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything; I can see you’re exhausted.”

You move off of him to lie down at his side instead. Besides you, Joel closes his eyes without hesitation as if he needs to escape any conversation but when his breathing slows down further and you realize that he is drifting off, he looks mostly like a tamed beast.

Ever so gently, you run a hand over his hair. He shifts only a little bit, so you do it again and suddenly you’re stroking the salt and pepper curls repeatedly.

To think that he had been ready to fight if someone touched him just half an hour ago. You continue for a few minutes before leaving the bed, heading for his bathroom to get cleaned up, and when you return again, he doesn’t react this time either.

The next day, you’re back in the same patrol group.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #my writing #mean!joel

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emmyrosee · 1 year ago

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He knows you’re tired. Exhausted even.

Standing in line at the grocery store, you’d been closer and cuddlier to Koutarou than usual, burrowing your head in the nape of his neck and swaying slightly to stand. On the car ride home, you can barely keep your eyes open, leaning over the center console and trying to burrow into him.

He loves it an unhealthy amount.

But he doesn’t know, really, why you’re so out of it today- you say you don’t know either, but he thinks youre full of it, and he can tell by the cheeky look you give him every time he asks.

It’s not your fault Kodzuken’s been streaming at ungodly hours lately.

It does seem to reach a point today where you’re a zombie, barely able to function or move without a massive delay. It took you and Koutarou fifteen minutes to unload the car’s groceries; by the sixteenth, he scoops you in his bulky arms and carries you in.

“Taro, no,” you grumble, not really putting up a fight. “Gotta help you.” Still ignoring you, he settles you on the couch with a blanket and a kiss loving nuzzle to your nose, and tutting softly when you mumble a barely coherent ‘m fine.’

“No, you’re not,” he chuckles, guiding you back down. “I got the groceries. Then we can cuddle and nap and be as close as you want.”

And while your eyes look as if there’s a fight in you, your smile of mercy says otherwise, and you lay your head back down onto the arm of the couch and pull the blanket higher, allowing yourself to drift.

And Bokuto has full intentions of letting you sleep. Honestly! The groceries are being stocked, frozen’s tucked away until there’s an incessant buzzing on his phone.

A flurry of text updates from Atsumu; EJP’s game finally started, and he’d be a liar if he said he wanted to miss it.

“Ah, no way! I thought their game was earlier!” He says aloud, bounding into the living room and plopping down onto the couch, startling you from your sleep. You whine angrily, but he’s already zoned in to the action. He feels your eyes boring into him, and the couch dips under your moving weight as you crawl towards him.

“Who’s game?”

He forgets to answer as his eyes are now focused on the screen, a smile of excitement curling on his face as he lets his eyes dance over the action of the game in the middle of its first set.

“EJP? I thought we missed it.”

“Yeah!” He says excitedly. “It’s Washio’s team- game must’ve gotten bumped, thought it was earlier too.”

“Did it just start?”

“Seems like it,” he says, tossing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in for a hug. You nuzzle and curl against him, but his excitement never lets you get too comfortable in his husky frame.

This, has you silent for a second. Then, you hum next to him and get up, breaking his focus from the television, “where are you going?” He asks softly, but turns back towards the tv when a whistle blows.

“Just have to use the bathroom,” you say, planting a kiss to his temple. “I’ll be back, just keep track of the plays for me.”

“You got it!” He says happily, leaning forward on his knees to watch the match.

Time truly does fly, as within seemingly minutes after turning on the tv, EJP finally seems to sweep the match completely, the post game interviews starting up right after. He pouts, but when he looks at his phone, his brows shoot up as nearly an hour has passed from when he turned on the tv.

He turns his head to ask you what you thought, but when he does, you’re not there. The spot next to him is cold, and he checks his phone again to see if you maybe left without telling him?

No dice.

He has no clue where you went.

“Baby?” He calls, rising from the couch and clicking off the tv to look for you. The house is silent, you’ve seemingly vanished from the vicinity, but you usually are pretty good at telling him when you leave.

He calls your name once again before finally crawling up the stairs to search, but it doesn’t take long for him to peek through the ajar door and smile at your napping form.

You’re curled up on his side of the bed, cuddled into his pillow and resting soundly under the blanket. Your eyes twitch as you dream your extravagant dreams, one he’s sure you’ll tell him about later. Koutarou sighs softly in relief before coming in and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he mumbles lowly, as if to not scare you. “Whatcha doin?” When you mewl a quiet ‘taro?’, he crawls next to you in bed, spooning you into his warm arms and gently taking selfish inhales of your scent. You flip into his embrace and burrow into the dip of his neck as you’ve done countless of times in your relationship.

“Game over?” You murmur, and he shushes you softly.

“Yeah- we won. I would’ve let you nap; you didn’t have to abandon me,” he snickers.

There’s a cheeky smirk that spreads on your slumbered features. It’s obvious to him now that you wanted to be alone to sleep, and while he’s not thrilled you were in here by yourself, or that you tricked him to be alone, he’s gotta admit that you played the game well. “You were busy,” you murmur. “Nice to nap without your snores.”

“Excuse you.” He kisses your forehead and uses one of his massive hands to cup the back of your head. “Go back to bed. I’ll deal with you later.”

“Mkay,” you yawn. The room is silent again, and just before your breathing can even out once again, you giggle from his neck. “Can’t believe you bought it.”

“I can’t believe you tricked me!”

You let out another little snicker before tuck closer to him, letting sleep take over while Bokuto lets his fingers gently massaging the back of your head with soft hands.

He’ll just have to scold you for it later.

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koolades-world · 3 months ago

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inspired by the baby geckos i keep finding in my house (btw if you guys liked this and levi you should totally go check out @lvlup-levizine cause it's all about our favorite otaku :) and yours truly is part of it)

Mc to the rescue!

"MC! MC!" Levi could be heard all throughout the House of Lamentation. The only times he was ever that loud was when he was wrapped up in a game. He almost never realized until Lucifer was banging on his door, telling him to 'settle down' as he always put it.

Of course, with volume and urgency he was screaming at, you flew to his room despite that fact that you were halfway across the house, playing a game of cards with Mammon and Satan. Belphie had attempted to play, but was currently slumped across your lap with his cards just barely in his hand. Unfortunately for him, you had to roll him off unceremoniously to rush to Levi's side. All three of the brothers protested in their own way. Belphie groaned, Satan scoffed, and Mammon whined, but nothing was going to prevent you from reaching your video game loving recluse.

"I'm here! What's the matter?" You hastily knocked a couple times, then threw open the door anyways at the sound of him freaking out within the room. You whipped your head around in every direction, in search of what could be causing him such distress, only to find just him standing there.

Despite being in his comfort place, he looked like a fish out of water in the middle of his own room. He was in a stance you could only describe as part of a fight or flight maneuver, to which he was doing neither. He resembled something closer to that of whatever a baby goat might do when it loses it's mother. ie: tremble and hope the situation will resolve itself. It was odd to see someone look so afraid to take a breath and also look as if they were going to hyperventilate all at the same time.

Instead of using his words, he silently pointed to the center of his face. Sure enough, perched on his nose, was a little something. You got a little closer and saw that on his nose wasn't a something, it was a someone. That someone was a tiny gecko. "Is that why you called me here?" You let out a deep sigh.

"Yes!" He hissed, a newfound urgency creeping into his voice as the little gecko repositioned itself on his face to get a better look at you.

"You had me worried. I thought it was something serious. I left a game of cards with Mammon. You know how he is. He's probably peaking at my cards as we speak." With a knowing smile on your face, you shook your head and crossed your arms.

"This is serious!" It seemed as if Levi couldn't decide whether to look at you or the creature on his face. His orange eyes flickered from the gecko, to you, then back to the gecko.

"Here, I'll get it if that's what you want. Then, I have some questions for you that you better answer." You approached him, and slowly reached out to his face. It started to redden as soon as you made contact with his cheeks, trying to chase the little reptile into your cupped hand. Capturing geckos could be a bit tricky at times. Sometimes, they went with you willingly, and sometimes you end up spending more time than you should chasing it around whatever room you've found it in. For Levi's sake, you hoped it would be the former case.

As soon as the baby gecko hopped into your hand and off Levi's forehead where you'd chased it, he let out a big sigh of relief. Carefully, you trapped it in your hands and had Levi walk you to the front doors to let it free. You saw it off and placed it in a bush, while Levi watched from the doorway: a far enough distance away that he deemed safe.

"You saved me! Thank you! I'm forever in your debt! Your good deed will not go forgotten!" Levi tried to slip away from you and the nonverbal promise he'd made by slowly but surely side stepping his way back down the hall to his room.

"You've got some explaining to do, Mr." You put your hands on your hips and stared at the demon that seemed to be looking everywhere but at you.

"What is there to explain? That little beasty jumped on my face, and you put it back where it belongs. Not in my room, and most definitely not on my face." He said rather unceremoniously.

"I think you're missing the point." You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Here, just start from the beginning." Once Levi realized he wasn't escaping the topic, he visibly wilted.

"Do I have to? It's kind of embarrassing." He mumbled.

"Levi." You said in a stern tone that Lucifer employed often.

"Fine. No judging though, alright? I was playing that otome game that I got the other day. The super cool I mentioned to you. I was having a moment with my favorite LI. It was getting really good. But, I was so focused, I didn't notice that little creep on my monitor. Before I knew it, it was too late and it was jumping at me. My life flashed before my eyes!" He dramatically recounted, clutching his chest.

"What do you have against geckos? They're pretty cute to me." You asked, puzzled.

"Geckos are sooo cute." Asmo, who happened to be walking through the foyer, chimed in before continuing on his way. By the looks of the giant box in his arms, his newest skincare products had just arrived.

"See? Besides, shouldn't you like geckos? They're a reptile, aren't they?" You finally got to the root of your confusion.

"Who ever said I had to like reptiles?" He crossed his arms, turning his nose up.

"You had a pet snake. And your tail. I just assumed you liked reptiles." You gestured to it. Throughout the whole ordeal, it had been out and was squirming about the entire time.

"That doesn't mean anything. I can like snakes without liking geckos. And I'd expect you of all people to be more cultured than that. My tail is clearly not a gecko tail. I have scales, not whatever geckos have. Not scales, I bet. My tail is way cooler than theirs." He started off back to his room, probably to fix everything he knocked over with his tail his tizzy.

"Levi. I think they do." You suppressed a smile.

"LALALA! I can't hear you!" He held his hands over his ears and began running away. He turned a little prematurely down the hall and ran into the wall. As you snickered to yourself, he bumbled away, still running as fast as he could.

Who would've guessed geckos would have been a fear of the Great Levichan?

#drabble #gn reader #obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me levi #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me! shall we date

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theealbatross · 6 months ago

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Sebastian x Reader: come one, come all (One Shot)

Plot | Five years after graduating, two kindred spirits are finally getting married and their friends reminisce on their brilliant histories.

or, Lucas Brattleby interviews their friends on their memories and opinions of the future Mr. and Mrs. Sallow as a little gift for the couple.

Tags | None, fluff, overuse of the name Merlin, mentions of slight torture (hexes), lowkey bullying, lowkey codependency if you squint, obsessive behavior (but it's okay cause theyre in love), cursing, Lucas lowkey has a crush on Sebastian lol

[A/N: A line from this story is not made by me, "I would follow him to hell but I wish he wouldn't go there" so to whoever wrote that first just know your quote is the inspiration for this story!!]

“What is this again?”

The brat, Lucas Brattleby, had grown obscenely taller the last time Imelda had seen him, which was about 3 years ago when he was a rookie reporter covering her latest game. She heard he is now a publisher in his own right but didn’t seem to brush off that annoying lint in his voice back when he was still a Gryffindor matching illegal unsanctioned duels in the Clock Tower.

“A small gift of mine for the couple,” he grinned (still as irritating, she’s seen that grin enough times before she got her ass handed to her so forgive her for not being enamored), pushing the pen (recorder?) to her that she reflexively pushed him by his face. “Sorry.”

“And why should I do this?”

“Oh come on, Imelda. It’s just harmless questions to take us back down memory lane. It’ll be played at the reception and I promise I’ll send you everything before I finalize it just so you can make sure –”

“Alright!” She stopped walking, rolling her eyes when Lucas quickly assembled his camera, even quickly conjuring a chair and putting it at the center of the frame. Clearly, he knew she could change her mind at any moment.

“My lady,” he bowed dramatically, pointing a palm to the seat.

“Don’t call me that. You have 10 minutes before warm-ups start.” Lucas raised both of his hands in the air before quickly running behind the camera and clicking the button to start recording.

“I’ll be out of here in 5.” Lucas flipped a paper in front of him. “Let’s start with your name, a little something about yourself and where did you meet them.”

She took a deep breath, putting on the poker face she usually plasters on her face when talking to the media before her many games instinctively. “Imelda Reyes, Vice-Captain of Puddlemere United, and I had the misfortune of being in the same boat as Sebastian Sallow during our first year. She, however, was a little late to the party and wreaked havoc on my life when I was a fifth year.”

Lucas was meticulously writing notes in his fancy notebook.

“What’s the fondest memory you have of the couple?”

She scoffed, not even needing to think about it. “Sebastian? Definitely when he caught a bludger … with his face.” The memory of the cry he emitted pulled a real smile on Imelda’s face. “We almost lost and I would’ve killed him for it but oh was it glorious.”

He remembers this game.

“Didn’t he fall off his broom midair?”

Imelda waved a nonchalant hand in front of her face. “That girlfriend of his caught him with an Arresto Momentum so no harm done – well, except the crooked nose he sported for a week.”

Lucas chuckled with her, “And for the future Mrs. Sallow?”

“Nothing much, most conversation we’ve had was her beating me – beating me in a race, beating me in a duel, Merlin, she even beat me with the class ranking on her first year in Hogwarts. I had a five-year head start how was that possible?!”

Lucas smiled, reading that as bitter her words were she truly held no grudge over it. He was caught off guard, however, when Imelda suddenly had a small, serene smile on her face, her voice when she spoke softer. “She was … it was like I was always chasing after her. We all were, Sebastian always first in the race but … it was fun. I had fun. She made Hogwarts fun. A true competition, yknow? Didn’t have much at that point in my life.”

“Competition?”

“A friend.”

Lucas couldn’t help but be surprised – not everyone can be considered as Imelda Reyes’ friend as picky as she is, though he quickly fixed his face when she shot him a look that told him not to probe. “Did you ever think they would both get married?”

Imelda scoffed out a laugh, crossing her arms. “I knew the only way they wouldn’t get married is if Sallow got assassinated by one of her many admirers and even then I wouldn’t put it past him to somehow turn into an Inferi just so he can still be the one to marry her. I’m honestly surprised he held on for this long, pretty sure he would’ve popped the question the moment we graduated.”

“Technically, he did. They just decided to get married this year.”

That one made her laugh out loud, shaking her head at her old friend’s antics. Of course, she knew those two would get married, basically tied to the hip, always getting in and out of trouble with each other and for each other. Bloody hell, they’d been married since fifth-year and just didn’t know it.

“Typical Sallow,” she caught herself. “Well, Sallows now, Merlin help us all.”

Lucas rechecked everything on his notes, making sure to mark any and all important details of the words his enchanted pen has written for him as he spoke with his former Senior, Garreth Weasley, who was once a thorn on the side of Professor Sharp but was now a renowned Potions Master actively getting scouted by Hogwarts, his blends sought upon by the most respectable wizards and witches all over the world.

“Did I think they would get married? Mate, Sebastian almost bit my head off when I tried to ask her if she would like to be partners for one potion class. One! And we were sitting next to each other! I’m sorry if I thought I was being friendly?!”

Lucas has heard and has unfortunately been a victim of Sebastian’s … tendencies. You, despite being the top duelist in Hogwarts was always, more often than not, partnered with Sebastian in every duel. The one time Lucas had agreed in a quiet solo duel without letting Sebastian know his senior had caught him on his way to his potion's class and nailed him to the wall by his cloak while threatening him to never let it happen again or he will turn him into a pretty outline in the walls of Hogwarts with Bombarda.

He thinks that was the closest thing he had been to peeing his pants.

“Yeah, Sebastian doesn’t have the best track record with friendly males around his girlfriend.”

“They weren’t even courting by then how would I bloody know that –”

“Ready, Poppy?”

Surprisingly, the sweet woman in front of him has been the most difficult to track down. Amongst their mutual friends she was the one he had no idea where to start, especially after his only lead, her grandmother, had no other information to give him aside that the last she heard Sweet Poppy was down South Clagmar Coast ‘doing Merlin knows what’.

Thankfully, the citizens of Cragcroft were a bit more helpful and he was able to send her an owl about his little project.

“Where should we start?”

Lucas made sure she was framed perfectly in the shot before nodding to himself. “Nothing complicated Poppy, just first impressions or any memory you have of the young couple.”

She pursed her lips in thought, nodding to herself, “The two of them have always been terrifyingly intimidating, especially for someone like me. Seemed to just attract attention and trouble on their own – I mean, killing a troll in Hogsmeade on the first day – just a bunch of troublemakers they were. Brilliant troublemakers – which only made them scarier in my eyes.”

Lucas nodded in total agreement but he couldn’t help but squint at her.

“You aren’t exactly innocent, Ms. Hid-a-Hippogriff.”

Her eyes widened, blushing at the accusation. “In my defense, future Mrs. Sallow helped me take care of Highwing.”

Poppy recounted the memories with a smile on her face. Her dainty smile grew bigger as she recapped happy memories she had with her classmates.

“But they’ve always been lovely. Lovely people and an even lovelier couple. Sebastian has always been bright and charming and surprisingly kind for a Slytherin and she … she’s always been unapologetic of who she was. It also meant she never judged anybody for who they are either.”

The woman paused, the smile on her face remained frozen as if she was in deep reflection.

“A true friend – one of the truest I had.”

Lucas was never in their circle, hell, aside from each other and maybe Ominis nobody was truly ever in their innermost circle despite their popularity. At every explosive trouble the two were always caught in he couldn’t help but wonder just what they get up to when they weren’t caught. Even back then he knew he would’ve risked his life and followed them no question asked if it meant his young self got to go to one of their death-defying adventures with them.

But being two years younger was a barrier he could never overcome.

It is refreshing to hear of stories from their friend’s perspective and not in passing in the Central Hall in Hogwarts where it’s all half-true, fabricated, or painfully hyperbolic. Maybe that’s why he had thought to do this, a reporter’s disease of needing to know the truth, the dark side of the coin they hid with their secrets and anonymities passed only in hushed whispers and clandestine meetings with each other.

“Are you excited about the wedding?”

Poppy nodded eagerly. “Oh, I’m extremely happy for my friends! It’s not every day two souls find each other and just not let go. I’m glad they didn’t. After all they’ve been through, they deserve to have each other.”

He couldn’t have agreed more.

“That they do.”

Mr. Lucas Brattleby,

I have received your owl, unfortunately, I will not be able to go back there till the night before the wedding as I still have a business to wrap up here in America. For the questions you sent, I shall send this Howler and you may record it.

I have nothing good to say about Mr. Sebastian Sallow, that boy had done nothing but torment me in my youth. It’s a bloody miracle he had managed to snag the Hero of Hogwarts as his girlfriend – terrible lack of judgment on her part I must say, we all have our flaws – much less agree to be his wife. If there’s one good thing he did do, it was willingly become a lowly servant to such a lovely witch. Least he could do, really.

However, despite their blatant differences and unfortunate similarities I, for one, knew immediately that not even Death could sever such a connection – not if Sebastian Sallow had anything to say about it, and trust me I speak from experience. They’ve fought through detentions, goblins, dark wizards, and a damned troll – I’m sure marriage will be a breeze in a park.

Well, if I’m wrong, then let the future Mrs. Sallow know I would be more than willing to offer a comforting shoulder.

Leander Prewitt Department of International Magical Cooperation

PS. To my darling wife Leonora, light of my life, the last part was a joke and If I somehow disappear it was Sebastian Sallow who did it.

“They give Sebastian too much credit when my dear friend was equally as obsessed about him. Do you remember Allia?”

Lucas snapped his fingers when he finally put a face to the name he hadn’t heard in a while but made sure to look around lest one of the younger students managed to hear such … delicate matters in the DADA classroom. “Didn’t she transfer during your 6th year? Something about personal … complications?”

Natty laughed out loud, doubling over with tears in her eyes. “Oh, that excuse was all thanks to Ominis swinging around his name. Our dear witch hexed poor Allia while she was asleep for trying to poison Sebastian with Amortentia! Sneaked straight into the Ravenclaw tower and cursed her to grow the features of a rat every time she even thought about Sebastian! The only way Ominis could convince our friend to take back the curse and avoid expulsion was at the condition of her transferring and never letting the couple see even her shadow again.”

He never even noticed that his jaw was hanging off his face.

“Oh, if everyone only knew that fights I had prevented if a Junior so much as fluttered their lashes at Sebastian,” she shook her head, still laughing to herself.

Now all the pieces he hadn’t realized were part of the same puzzle clicked on his head. The flat smile on her face that never quite reached her eyes every time they were surrounded by strangers, the grip she always held on Sebastian’s arms no matter where they were going, the ‘promise ring’ Sebastian also wore when traditionally it was just the girl who had it, and the absolute absence of Sebastian’s name when girls talked about boys they fancied in the common room when he was undoubtedly better looking than most students in Hogwarts.

“A jealous witch she was, thinks she’s good at hiding it,” Natty chuckled.

Lucas realized in horror that she had scared off the entire female student body.

“But by the gods was she better at hexes.”

When Lucas had heard that Ominis Gaunt had been working closely with the Minister for Magic and was undoubtedly being groomed to be his successor, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Everyone knew he would be someone important someday so Lucas had damn near lost all hope as he sent an owl to the man.

When he received a reply in a fortnight brought by a regal-looking owl, Lucas thought he must have some soft spot for his fellow alumni. But it would seem the man just had a lot to let out of his chest.

“Oh, the stories I could tell! If I had a knut for every time I had to rescue one of those idiots out of a horrific situation they found themselves in I would be richer than the Blacks!”

He’d never seen his hair this undone in the 7 years they had been on the same campus. Maybe Lucas was just that good of a journalist or maybe it was the half-empty bottle of expensive whiskey that was the reason for his loose lips.

“I mean, Sebastian was bad enough, but once he found someone who would willingly dive with him to whatever dangerous expeditions he found interest in and I was outnumbered it was a bloody nightmare.”

For the first time in his life, he felt pity for the man. It was never really a secret why Sebastian didn’t serve half the detention he deserved nor why neither of them had ever been expelled when a trail of evidence led to the both of them red-handed and always at the scene of the crime. But he has to give it to Ominis … a lesser man would’ve cracked at their mischiefs.

“And Sebastian … everybody knows he would’ve willing let himself be target practice for all sorts of curses if she had asked.”

Lucas can’t even defend his childhood hero. Especially, of the things he had learned from his previous subjects. It would seem even the mightiest of men would always buckle in the face of their true love.

“I-I’m sure they’ve done the same for you,” Lucas winced.

“Oh, they better, with the flaming hoops I had to jump through to make sure we graduated alive,” Ominis waved him off indifferently. “They are my best friends. I would follow them to hell but I just wish they would stop going there for one damn semester.”

Lucas snickered, unfortunately unable to hold it in with just how stressed the memory of the mischiefs his favorite couple got up to has brought Ominis. He was sure the older man would choke him but he just sighed out a laugh until the two of them were laughing to each other.

“I guess they have always been the perfect person for each other.”

Ominis nodded, leaning his head on his fist. “Yeah …”

He threw Lucas a look.

“Do you think they won’t make me their children’s godfather if I begged?”

Lucas bit his lips. “My money is on the eldest getting named after you so …”

Ominis groaned.

Lucas refilled his glass.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc

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deafsignifcantother · 4 months ago

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alastor just being weird

♥ summary: alastor wanting you solely for the fact that you smell delightful so he starts searching your room ♥ relationships: alastor x [deaf] woman reader, deafness not a major point ♥ word count: 600 ♥ notes: reader wears makeup, she likes photography, she also doesn't really gaf about alastor being snoopy and weird LOLZ

Now that you're not in here, he can look around. He's welcomed himself into your empty room, eyes roaming everywhere except the attached bathroom, of course. He's immoral but not indecent. Where should he even start?

As the hotelier, it is his job to meet and make the guests comfortable. To be able to do that, he needs to know more about you, which is out of kindness and does not relate to how good you smell or how he would enjoy making you his next meal, most be mistaken.

Your dresser's drawers are a good start.

Just a standard assortment of socks and underwear, some salacious as any demon would have, neatly arranged. One pair of fishnets, a small collection of photos, a camera, a notebook. Do you always keep things like this? Or did you develop a new habit after the sudden move-in. He is hoping to find a clue as to who you are, and notebooks have saved him a lot of times before. He lightly picks it up and flips it open. Blank pages. Do you write in invisible ink? His claws finger through the pages one at a time before he bends them and watches them fly by. There's nothing.

He's wasting time. He places it back and lifts up the photos. The red sky above. One is a long shot of the pentagram with the Hazbin Hotel in the center.

In the next drawer there are no clothes, only a single makeup bag and accessories. Mismatched earrings, it seems you have a habit of losing one of every pair and then stashing them away—in case you find the other?

Alastor opens the drawer closest to the ground. Empty except for what he can only guess is a miscellaneous drawer. The brush smells like you from the multiple hair strands wrapped around it. His nose twitches; how delightful. He reaches for it slowly, brain rocking back and forth in his skull. But by the time he grips the handle, it's too late to stop. The bristles meet his nose, and he takes a whiff, savoring the pleasant fragrance that fills his lungs. He puts it back before he gets carried away.

Your room has a lovely and quite large wooden wardrobe. As he expected, when he opens it, there is space needing to be filled. His smile twitches at the soft gust of your smell; the scent assaults his hunger.

His index claw drags down a long sleeve, wrapping around the material and bringing it up to his nose. Even when clean, you've corrupted the cotton.

The moment the door opens, he fades into the shadows. He stands before the bathroom door as you step out in a robe, fresh out of the shower. It's the robe he gifted you, a welcome gift. He'll never tell you it's for capturing the soapy aroma of your wet body.

You look behind him, eyes flickering back. His smile tightens. Ah, he left the wardrobe's door open.

Alastor straightens his suit, shoulders a bit taut from embarrassment. He makes a show of brushing off his sleeves while you stand in the same place; the weight of your stare makes him sweat. "Well, my dear, I'm afraid I must be off, one can't even imagine the things I'm busied with!"

He looks up at you, his monocle hiding one of his eyes, his expression unreadable while he waits for a response. His wavery pupils match the small, excited shake of his hands. He doesn't leave immediately, curious him.

"And 'be off' you may," you walk past him, signing in simple pse to strengthen your point, not acknowledging him further. Your hand rests on the wooden frame, getting a small glance inside the wardrobe before closing it softly. By the time you turn around, Alastor is gone.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #x deaf reader

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motomamita · 3 months ago

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old!moviedirector!könig × actress!reader

warnings: +18, smut, manipulation, abuse of power, sex on camera, no condom, age difference.

Imagine old!moviedirector!König who loves being part of the casting for each of his successful films. He is not only known for his success but also for how perverted he becomes with his actresses.

This time, his next film has as its protagonist a woman who is everything that is known as a femme fatale. Obviously, König was not going to miss the auditions to find his ideal leading lady.

Several girls passed by and tried their best to try to leave a good impression on König and his assistants, but none of them succeeded. Then you arrived. You look totally innocent and naive despite having done everything necessary to look like the main character. You were wearing a tight dress, red lips, and eyeliner that highlighted your look.

König quickly put your presentation folder aside, putting it away next to his belongings. You had no experience in acting and much less idea of how film productions were handled. That's why you didn't find it strange when König called you on your phone and invited you to his house to chat about your audition.

You arrived dressed as the main character because König requested it. He welcomed you into his luxurious home and you shared a couple of drinks. You talked about your life and your desire to act in Hollywood while König only paid attention to your breasts that protruded from the tight dress. Soon he invited you to sit on the couch to talk more comfortably about what he expected of you.

"You know... When you came in for the audition you totally blew me away." König began speaking, your heart racing at his words.

"Thank you. I really want the role of the protagonist, I have worked hard." You explained excitedly, watching as he put his glass aside.

"Yeah? But I have to tell you that I'm not entirely sure you're going to get it..." your worried look forced him to continue talking. "It's a very risky character and I need a girl who is really willing to give it her all."

"Please, sir..." you interrupted him, moving a few centimeters closer to him. "I feel capable of achieving it, I can give everything and more..." you also assured, leaving your glass aside.

König looked at your face and couldn't help but smile at your need, it excited him to know the power he had over you. He slowly placed his hand on your bare thigh, caressing your skin with his rough hand.

"I need you to prove it. I need you to show me that you are capable of anything for the role." He spoke softly, moving his hand up a little towards your center. "Look, there are risque scenes in the movie..."

"I will do it, I will do whatever it takes." You nodded your head, sure of yourself.

"Show it to me. Show me that you're not afraid to suck a good cock on camera." He quickly took out his home video camera and turned it on, recording your face in the foreground.

You hesitated for a few seconds at his direct request but in the end you agreed. You kneel in front of him and König opened his legs giving you access between them, he wanted you to open his pants. Determined, you went to his zipper and soon noticed the hard erection it hid. His cock was thick, uncut and precum glistened at the tip.

"Come on, darling, win the lead role." He encouraged you by pointing his camera at your face and at his cock that was centimeters away.

You started by giving him a few kitten licks while jerking off his cock. König moaned loudly and stretched out even further on the large sofa, enjoying your wet tongue. You soon took him into your mouth, breathing through your nose and trying your best to make him feel good. König brought one of his free hands to the back of your head, forcing you down to the base of his cock.

"Come on, take it all in your mouth.. What a good girl.." he encouraged you as you noticed how your throat squeezed his cock.

When you felt like you were about to faint, König grabbed your hair and pulled you away from him. Your saliva was dripping down your chin and your breathing was labored. König laughed lightly at seeing you like that and made sure he had filmed your expression.

"Enough, now lie down."

You obeyed and lay down on the large sofa. König finished taking off his pants and then focused his attention on you.

"Look at what a beauty.." he commented, bringing one of his hands to your chest, massaging it over the fabric of your dress. "Show me those tits, come on!"

You obeyed and left your breasts exposed for the camera and for König, of course. He brought his hands to you again and caressed your breasts, pinching your nipples making you moan.

"Let me see what you're hiding here.." Now he record your pussy covered by small panties that showed how wet you were. Without waiting for orders you took them off, showing your wet pussy. "This pussy is the pussy of the next Oscar winner."

König massaged your clit with his thumb making you moan at the sensation of his touch. Then, he slowly inserted his index finger into your pussy, pumping it and listening to the dirty sounds due to your wetness.

"You want this job, huh? You're going to let me fuck this pussy?" The camera came to your face, recording your expression and how you nodded your head. "Let me hear you, use your words.."

"I want you to fuck me, please, fuck me!" you begged, hugging him around the waist with your legs.

König placed the camera in a position where only you were in the image. He spit in his hand and masturbated, looking at you with total desire, he was finally going to fulfill his fantasy.

"This is going to hurt a little.." he murmured placing his cock at the entrance of your pussy. Slowly he entered inside you, feeling how your wet walls received his thick cock. "Shit, you're so tight.."

You placed your hands on his shoulders and bit your lip trying to cope with the pain between your legs. When König was inside you, he moved slowly while massaging your clit. You moaned his name loudly and dug your nails into his shoulders, turning him on even more.

"Do you like it? Uh? Fucking your boss to get the lead character?" He asked, bringing his mouth to your ear and sucking on some of your sensitive skin there.

"Yes! I love it, fuck me harder!" You moaned, hugging him even more with your legs and feeling how his cock moved against you.

König obeyed you and increased the speed of his thrusts, hitting his skin hard against your pussy. Your moans increased in volume and you hugged him even tighter, feeling his balls slap against your ass.

"Fuck, baby. I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum!" König moan and, without stopping moving, grabbed the camera again and pointed it at you. "Show me, show me that beautiful face while I cum inside you!"

You made your face look more pleased and you let yourself be carried away by his hard thrusts. Soon, König came in front of you, filling you with his thick, hot liquid.

After a few weeks, you received a call from him. You had earned the role.

#könig cod #könig call of duty #konig call of duty #könig smut #könig x reader #könig #konig fanfiction #konig x reader #konig smut #konig cod #old!könig #old!konig #moviedirector!könig #actress!reader

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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leveling the playing field VIII

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: omg so this is the final part of the first like, section of this story! i probably should have not called them parts bc idk what to do for the second like.. bit. season? maybe?) yeah sure, season two coming soon!! lol

thank you guys so much for being here and reading this and enjoying it as much as i have enjoyed writing it! it truly means so much to me :)

next part

You hear footsteps and turn around in the seat, hoping desperately that it's Coryo, and you are relieved to see that it finally is. He had been gone for close to an hour. You stand quickly, going to meet him halfway, what you had to tell him couldn't wait. "Coryo," You say quickly, before launching into the full story. "Lucy Gray came back, the others were chasing her and she hid in that vent and she's still in there, they're trying to figure out how to get in. She's stuck."

You follow him back to the desk, his eyes wide now too. "That's good... I think that's good." He's scanning the arena again, as if there's any inch of it he hasn't committed to memory, trying to see if there was any way Dr. Gaul's snakes could reach her in the vent you pointed to.

"No, no it's not good because I don't think there's another way out of that one except the way she came in." You dig into your bag as it hangs at his side, pulling out the notebook that you drew the map in. "Yeah, look- it's pinched off about thirty feet in." You point to the page, holding it out for him to see.

"She just has to wait them out." He insists, pushing your hand down. "Put that away- you shouldn't have that."

Why is he so calm about this? Lucy Gray was trapped, and this time there was nothing either of you could do to help her. "Yeah, but that's not going to work for much longer." You say, watching as the three make a plan to push her farther into the vent and try and get her out from the bottom.

Hurriedly, you close your notebook and put it away so you don't have to look away for long.

"Just a little longer, Lucy Gray..." Coryo mutters to himself and grips onto your hand at his side. At this, you reach across your body and rub his arm with your free hand. His whole future could collapse in a matter of moments if Lucy Gray doesn't survive. Yours could too. But as you watch Coral thrust her weapon up into the pipes that you know Lucy Gray is inside, you flinch, not knowing how much longer Lucy Gray can hold out.

You can't even process what is happening to Treech and the outcries of his mentor and people in the theatre, wondering what happened to him as he collapses with a bloody nose. You knew, so you avoided even looking in their direction as Lucy Gray tumbled from the now shredded vent, landing directly on top of Coral before making a run for it. You're sure Coriolanus isn't even breathing.

You aren't either when every one of the tributes freezing and the wind starts whipping Lucy Gray's hair around her face and her dress around her sides. Everyone watches as a large tank is lowered into the arena and dropped delicately on top of the pile of debris in the center.

"What is that?" You wonder out loud, and Coryo just shakes his head as you look up at him.

"C'mon Lucy Gray, get out of there..."

"Wouldn't it be funny if it was candy?" Lucky jokes and you stifle a laugh.

At this moment, the young girl from District Eight wanders out into the clearing, pale and skinny. "Is it over?" She asks no one in particular, making your smile fade.

"Wovey..." Reaper warns her from where he's kneeling next to the bodies he had covered with the flag.

"Can we go home now?" You clutch your hand back to your chest as she walks toward the tank- you don't know what was in the tank, but you know it wouldn't be good.

"Wovey." He warns again, more stern this time with a slight shake of his head.

The tank starts to splinter, cracking steadily along all sides until it bursts open. You gasp at the amount of snakes that come out. A wave of moving, rainbow destruction crashes over the floor and completely engulfs the little girl in a fraction of a second, as everyone else starts to run.

As Lucy Gray and Coral make a break for the walls, trying to get up to the stands, Reaper seems to just accept his fate. You feel... bad. He could have taken your offer made days before, he could be winning right now. At least he and Wovey didn't suffer.

As Lucy Gray pushes herself backward up the pile of rubble away from the fast moving snakes, Coral starts speaking to her. You can't hear what she's saying, but you can see she's crying- maybe pleading for Lucy Gray's help, maybe just saying her goodbyes to this world. It didn't matter, Lucy Gray was the last one alive as Coral's body got surrounded by the snakes.

Please work. Coriolanus begs the universe, hoping that the cloth he had used to wipe her tears and the one she used to wipe away the dirt from her skin before the interview, which he took from your bag and shoved into slots in the tank would be enough to save her.

"She won!" You grin, shaking Coryo's shoulder as he stands beside you, eyes still locked on Lucy Gray.

That's when she starts to sing, just as the snakes catch up to her. Why aren't they letting her out? It was over.

"Why aren't they getting her out?" You ask him, confused as everyone watches intensely, entranced by her voice.

"I'll be along, when I've finished my song..."

Coryo and you both turn, facing the audience now and all eyes immediately lock on Dr. Gaul. "Dr. Gaul, she won." He says, as if somehow she's missed it- surely she had. Surely she's not watching the same thing you are.

"When I've shut down the band, played out my hand..."

"It's over, let her out!" You shout, attempting to draw her attention.

"Paid all my debts..."

"Why aren't they attacking her?" You hear someone ask, noticing the snakes are almost entirely covering Lucy Gray's shirt now.

"Have no regrets, right here..."

"It must be the singing," Coryo replies, and you look up at him. You don't know that that's true, but you won't ask. "It's calming them."

"In the old therebefore..."

"She can't sing forever."

"Then let her out!" You yell, looking pleadingly up at Dr. Gaul in the stands. "Dr. Gaul!" You demand her attention now, stomping your foot down.

Your blood is boiling when she still won't look at you and the sound of Lucy Gray's voice fills the theatre. "Look at me!" You scream, and clearly, people are getting annoyed at you for interrupting Lucy Gray's song. "Look at me now or let her out!"

She does neither, not until Lucy Gray's song moves everyone else to match your cries for her to be released. Only then does Dr. Gaul look at the two of you, and you drop Coryo's hand.

The doctor sighs, leaning over to her assistant. "Get her out. Now." She says, and cheers erupt in the room previously filled with emotional tears.

"I did it." Coryo says, and you have to lean close to hear it over everyone's delight.

"You did it!" You laugh, throwing your arms over his shoulders. You scream in excitement as he hugs you back, lifting you up and spinning you around as people crowd the two of you. You don't think you've ever been happier.

As he lets you down gently, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your forehead, you wonder if your parents are watching. You can't wait to get home, to see your family and let them sing your praises for Coriolanus's success in the games. Well, Lucy Gray's success that the two of you get to reap the rewards of.

Then, he's gone, leaving you to gather your things while he goes to see Tigris. You smile, sighing to yourself as you watch. It's likely your father has already sent the car to collect you, so you should probably get going. You're in dire need of a celebratory bath, anyway.

Last night, you had the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. A full eight hours- a privilege you didn't know you missed so bad. Even when you had to get up for school around six, you felt so well rested you knew you could take on the world.

That was until you walked downstairs for breakfast. "Good morning." You grin, skipping down the last couple of steps only to be met with your father hanging up the phone, storming over to you, and shoving you back onto the staircase.

"Sit down. Listen to me." He spits as you groan, holding your head from where it hit the railing and adjusting yourself so you are sitting properly on the stairs.

"Ow... What did I do?"

"You know what you did, Y/N." He hisses, pacing in front of you. "Un-fucking-believable! They went out on a limb for you, and this is how you repay them? Do you even realize what you have done? To me? To this family?"

The poison.

"Dad, I didn't do anything! I had no say in it! Coryo gave her the compact empty- it wasn't our business what she did with it!" You argue, standing up only to earn yourself a slap across the face.

"You were to give her nothing. You knew that." You hold your cheek while he lectures you, and you just nod.

"Yes, sir." You sniff, rubbing your jaw to soothe the sting of your already burning skin. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me- you will apologize to Dean Highbottom first thing this morning and hope he's smart enough to forgive you. Now, go."

You pull your bag back over your shoulder, avoiding eye contact with your little brother and your mother sat at the table as you walked out the door. It looks like you're walking today.

You make it to your first class, obviously not feeling too excited about the concept of speaking with the Dean. Coryo walks in just a few moments after you, stealing the seat at your side. You can't even look at him.

"Good morning." He whispers, pulling his textbook out of his bag. He's in good spirits it seems, but you know that won't last long. "You left in a hurry after the games yesterday, I was hoping we would celebrate together."

When you don't respond, he furrows his brow. Were you mad at him? Had he done something? "Wow, you're a ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?" He asks, disguising his hurt as a joke. His intention was to come back to you after speaking with Tigris, he wanted to see if you would like to go for a walk or something and discuss everything. He didn't really have a plan, but he didn't want you to leave his side, not yet. The games had ended all too quickly, and you had yet to even discuss what had happened with the kiss you shared. He couldn't let you slip back into a routine of only seeing each other in class and during breaks, he couldn't bear the mere idea of it.

You slam your pen down on the desk, turning to look at him now. "We are in such deep, deep shit, Coriolanus." You hiss, taking notice of everyone looking at you so you quiet down.

"Your... your cheek." He just mutters, leaning in to look closely at the other side of your face and the maroon bruise that now adorned it. Even under your makeup he could see it. "What happened?" He reaches out to gently brush his hand over your jaw and you flinch away quickly.

You sigh, looking around quickly before leaning in closer to whisper to him. "They know, about the poison. We're done for, enjoy your final moments of freedom." You move away quickly as your professor starts speaking and the world begins to crash down around your best friend.

He sits back, face pale as his stomach turns. How could they know? They must have found the compact on Lucy Gray- it must not have been empty. Or was it the cloths in the tank? Those would be easier to find, probably, but how could they be traced back to you?

"We need to borrow Miss Y/L/N and Mister Snow, please." A peacekeeper says as he knocks on the open door frame, eyes quickly finding the two of you.

"It was nice knowing you." You sigh, quickly gathering your things and making your way down to the door.

He follows quickly behind, and for once, your classmates are silent.

A group of three peacekeepers lead you down a quiet hallway of the school, and stop at an open door gesturing for the two of you to enter.

"Ladies first," Coriolanus says softly, stepping aside for you to enter.

"Oh, so now I'm a lady." You scoff quietly, walking into the large open room, the high biology room, with nothing but a table in the center. The table is adorned only with the compact he had given to Lucy Gray, and two handkerchiefs. One of his, and one of yours. How did they get that?

"Kids." Dean Highbottom greets the two of you as the door slams shut behind you.

You open your mouth to speak, taking a breath and he stops you before you get the chance. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I don't want to hear it."

"No, I think you do." You protest, "Because my-"

"Your father?" He cuts you off. "What about him? Because I just got off the phone with him this morning, and judging by the state of your face, I would argue that I am in agreement with him."

You swallow, fighting the urge to look down and avoid his gaze. If you had any chance of walking out of here without being in too much trouble, you had to prove that you were not afraid.

"Don't you think that she's been punished enough?" Coryo argues, looking between the two of you.

"Coriolanus." He ignores his plea, tapping the table next to the compact. "How many times did I see your mother pull this from her handbag to check her face? Your pretty, vapid mother, who'd somehow convinced himself that your father would give her freedom and love. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say."

"She wasn't." Coryo protests, referring to the Dean's insinuations about his mother. You look at him, but he won't meet your gaze.

"Only her youth excused her, and, really, she seemed fated to be a child forever. Just like the opposite of your girl, here." He gestures to you. "Eighteen going on thirty-five, and a hard thirty-five, at that. Your songbird, too."

"She gave you the compact?" Coriolanus asks, the sadness of betrayal evident on his features at the idea of Lucy Gray handing it over.

"Oh, don't blame her. The peacekeepers had to wrestle her to get the thing. Naturally, we do a thorough search of the victors when they leave the arena." Dean Highbottom explains, tilting his head as he looks between the two of you. "So smart of her, to poison the water Dill drank and dust it over Treech the way she did. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I was watching you, Miss Y/L/N."

You take a sharp breath, making an effort to straighten your posture.

"She claimed that the poison was her idea, that the compact was nothing but a token." He adds.

"It was." You state, though he is likely speaking to Coriolanus.

"Oh, I'm glad to see you got your story straight." Highbottom nods at you, voice dripping in sarcasm. "But I don't believe you. Even if I did, what am I to make of these?" He taps next to the handkerchiefs now next to it. "One of the lab assistants found these in the snake tank last night. Everyone was baffled at first, checking to see if it was one of their own that they had dropped. Until we noticed the initials. Not yours. Your father's. So delicately stitched into the corner..."

You look at Coryo, who is fighting to keep a straight face through his urge to vomit. "Why haven't you made this public?" He asks.

"I know why." You say, crossing your arms and looking the Dean up and down, who just rolls his eyes.

"I was tempted," He ignores you. "Believe me, I was. But the academy, when expelling students, has a tradition of offering them a lifeline. As an alternative to public disgrace, Coriolanus, you may join the peacekeepers by the end of the day."

Coryo's heart drops, as does yours. "The other one, it's hers." He points suddenly to the other cloth, next to his father's. Your jaw drops. How dare he throw you under the bus like that?

"I was getting to that." The Dean sighs as you shoot glares into the side of Coriolanus's head.

"I didn't do that! He took my bag, he took it and put it in the tank- I didn't know anything!" You argue, and he once again raises a hand at you to shut you up.

"Coriolanus, you better hurry. The office closes in twenty minutes, if you run you can make it in time." Highbottom says to your classmate, who just nods and turns for the door. "Oh, and what's that?" He asks, looking up at the skylight. "It's the sound of Snow, falling."

Coriolanus glares at him, pacing quickly out of the door and slamming it behind himself.

You're in shock still over why he would do that to you, but you don't have the time to process it before the Dean is scolding you. "Now, what will happen to you, huh?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "Be honest, did you know?"

"No, sir." You reply, giving a firm shake of your head.

"That's a shame. He really threw you under, huh?" He laughs, mocking you. "After what I saw the other day, I was expecting he would defend you tooth and nail... but no. I mean, he is a Snow, after all."

You don't say a word, just glaring at the man in front of you and waiting for him to tell you your fate.

"Anyway, if it was up to me, you would already be undergoing the necessary procedures to become an Avox. Oh, how I would love to see you without a tongue." He muses, sighing in disappointment. "But I know your father would be embarrassed so I think it best to leave your punishment in his hands, would you agree? Outside, of course, your expulsion."

"You can't expel me!" You shout, fists clenched around the sleeves of your coat.

"Enough of your tantrums, Y/N. You're too old for this. But, alas, you're right. I'm obligated to extend you the olive branch too." He concedes. "You are allowed to graduate under the condition that you work in service for the next ten years. Although keep in mind, your father won't like that."

"Fuck your olive branch! How dare you threaten me like this! I did nothing wrong, we won!" You fire off, practically twitching with anger at this point. "If you won't go public with it, I will! I've got nothing to lose now, the whole country will know what you and my dad are doing! What you're selling! I'll tell everyone! You'll be executed for treason!" You didn't even notice when you started grabbing anything you could reach and launching it in his direction until the peacekeepers were grabbing the back of your arms and dragging you away kicking and screaming. "You'll hang for this!"

You hardly make it to the door before you feel a stab in your neck, and the world fades to black around you.

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