#imagine the curse he saw to get him to shout like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slutofpsh · 6 months ago

Text

strip for me.

part three

pairings: hyungline x reader (sunghoon & heeseung)

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 6k

warnings: smut, minor dni, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: next part will be fivesome with the hyungline so it’ll take time. be patient. please reblog and reply to. it is highly encouraged. thank you so much for your support. part one (here) ; part two (here)

your grip over your phone tightens while a text message flashes through its screen. a one sentence text is all it takes for your whole system to feel thrilled.

‘i’ll see you at the locker's room after my morning practice.’ — psh.

that was all it says. sunghoon’s not the texter type. out of all of them, he’s the least you expect to appear on your messages and so to receive something from him makes your stomach churns.

it’s still very early and after you checked your phone, that’s the first thing you saw.

Park Sunghoon is the team captain of your school’s ice hockey team and every thursday morning, they have practice before going to class. today is that day.

you didn’t reply to him and honestly, you’re contemplating whether to go meet him or not. obviously, something like what happened yesterday may occur. And no matter how bad does it sound, a hint of excitement stirs at the depth of your mind.

despite it, worry and agitation overpowers you. sunghoon is a very mean guy. you’ve done it with the four of them, and he’s the roughest when he’s mad or if he’s trying to punish you.

jake mentioned yesterday that it was a punishment. jay may have didn’t mention it, but his odd behavior was enough for you to conclude that something’s going on.

you spent the whole night thinking of what did you do wrong, backtracking over the things happened the day prior today. even no matter how hard you strain your brain, nothing pops inside your head. nothing. none.

still in trance, a new message appears on sunghoon’s chat box.

‘don’t even think of ditching me or i’ll be seriously be pissed.’ — psh.

you can imagine his brows hardly furrowed, jaw clenched and eyes cold as ice burning through his phone screen as he tap those words to send you. that was enough to make you feel scared. sunghoon’s not very nice, what more if he’s pissed off?

so before you even get deeply caught into your thoughts, you pushed yourself up from the comfort of your bed and started preparing to go meet him.

on the other hand, the sound of skates sliding through the ice and nonstop smashing of hockey sticks echoes all around the auditorium. players chants and shouts at each other as they try their best to make a score. if you aren’t too familiar with the members, you’ll think they don't belong in the same group.

but they do. it was just a normal practice session, only park sunghoon, the captain and also the team’s ace, are a little bit more worked up at the moment. his eyes dark and his moves are more aggressive than usual.

his teammates that are currently on his team in this game cheered when he made another score. ice splatters as he abruptly tried to make a stop. he pants as he removes his head gear.

“come on,” one long slide and a newbie made it near him. he was panting so bad as he raises his arms. “its just practice man.” he says towards sunghoon.

the old members looks at him in horror, giving a hint not to say anything else as sunghoon faces him with a placid look on his face.

sunghoon kept silent before advancing towards the newbie. he stared right at his face for a while before grabbing him by his shirt, jaw clenching. the other varsities panics and starts to discard his hold, but he was too strong.

“if you can’t keep up with me then that’s not my problem.” he spat and gave this chilling gaze at the newbie. the obvious fear flickers through the younger’s eyes as his mouth hangs open, unable to utter a single word.

“sunghoon! that’s enough.” thankfully, their coach arrived just in time to stop the fight.

from the chairs outside the rink, one pair of eyes watches closely. his half-lidded eyes stares lazily at the scene unfolding, totally unbothered by it. his back rests at the chair and legs crossed, conveying so much dominance.

heeseung saw how sunghoon kept his grip on his teammates uniform, clearly being stubborn. he's not even surprised. typical sunghoon who never listens and always lets his temper control him.

sunghoon gave the poor boy one cold stare before pushing him off as he lets go of his jersey. he, then slides out of the rink.

“hoon.” heeseung calls that made the younger halt his steps.

he cranes his neck and look at him with blank eyes, waiting for what his hyung is about to say. heeseung trailed his gaze from the rink towards him.

“remember not to be carried away.” he reminds him.

“i know.” he shortly replied, still feeling so heated from the practice.

“and don’t hurt her.” he says in a very low tone.

sunghoon scoffs, “i won’t.” his eyes darkens as his lips stretched into a smirk, showing off his fangs. “at least not in that way.”

your head peeks slightly to look while the players are leaving their locker one by one. it’s been almost ten minutes since you arrived the school. as expected, there’s only a few around and the whole building is still vacant.

you’re still busy checking when the hairs on your neck raised, chills running down your spine. a presence can be felt from behind you. slowly, you craned your neck to look over your shoulder.

wide broad chest is what you saw first. you trailed your gaze upwards to see lee heeseung staring down on you with a deadpan look on his handsome face.

a light gasp escapes your lips and tries to step back once.

“u-uh,” you gulped and lowered your head to avoid looking at his eyes. “sunghoon asked me t-to meet him here.”

you have no idea why on earth are you explaining to him. it just feels right to let him know why you are currently here, early in the morning, when your class starts a bit hour later.

“i know.” he shortly replies.

of course he knew. is there something else that he doesn’t know? what you noticed from lee heeseung is that besides being a very reserved individual, he’s also very observant. if the other boys loves being the center of attention, this tall gorgeous boy prefers to be on the corner, watching.

you tried glancing if he’s still looking and after meeting his gaze for a split second, you folded and glanced away.

he sighs heavily, “you guys have at least 45 minutes until our first class starts. don’t be late.” he says under his breath and starts walking away to the direction of your building.

the further he is away from you, the more your breathing stables. something about him intimidates and makes you nervous as hell. even before you can look at him to check if he’s already far away, he talks again.

“y/n,” in a speed of light, you faced him with flushed cheeks.

“y-yeah?”

his blank eyes slightly softens, “he’s in a very bad mood. if he gets out of hand, calm him down.”

his words confused you right away. first, sunghoon’s out of mood most of the times. second, why is he saying these words like as if you know perfectly what to do?

“b-but how..?”

he kept a placid look before turning his back to start walking again, leaving with, “you know how.”

you’re left standing awkwardly. heeseung’s already gone and you haven’t moved an inch. his words echoes inside your head repeatedly. it still confusing you how there’s a hint of confidence lingering through his words.

a vibration from your phone is what snapped you back to reality.

‘come here.’ — psh.

that was your cue. without thinking twice, your feet moves like it has a mind of its own, walking and leading you towards the locker room of the ice hockey team. sunghoon’s lure.

it was quiet and slightly dark. when you made it to the far end, you saw him sat at one of the benches. his head didn’t even whip to look at your way when you arrive, like he was expecting you and nobody else.

his elbows bore on his knees as he was leaning, head hanging low.

“sunghoon?” you calls him using your soft voice.

sunghoon finally lifts his head and look at your direction. there you are. you look beautiful wearing the school uniform neatly, hair brushed and eyes staring at him with a hint of concern.

he didn’t show any reaction to his face that made you feel agitated. heeseung’s words flashes back on you, that he’s in a bad mood. it scares you even more, adding to the tension.

“why are you standing so far, doll?”

his husky voice slightly echoes inside the wide room. its just the two of you here and that thought was enough to make your heart race. his endearment for you stirs something in you. how he always love to call you doll, in a sexy and taunting way.

you trudges closer, but still keeping a safe distant.

his dark eyes burns as he run his stare over you in a very dangerous way. he looks so attractive wearing his just his sweats and a white plain t-shirt, hair still a bit damp from shower. even from a distance, you can smell his manly scent that always makes you dizzy in a good way.

“kneel in front of me.” he demands.

you can feel your knee wobbling as you make your way towards him. slowly, you kneeled down. sunghoon almost lose his mind by the sight of you like this. he almost lets out a low groan when you follow him without saying any words, complying to him. submitting.

he leans backwards, resting one hand to the bench support his weight, the other palming his hard dick. you can see the outline of his cock through his sweatpants and blood rushes to your cheeks.

“take my cock out.”

his request made you blink and look at him. this shouldn’t surprise you anymore. before you come here, you’re expecting that things can escalate like this. but the fear of one of his teammates walking on you, makes you hesitating.

“what if s-someone comes here?”

“i’ll kill them.” he says those words without hesitation that made your heart drop.

“sunghoon—”

“you know i don’t have much patience, right?” his tone stingy and the crease on his forehead tells you that he’s not very happy on you delaying him from getting his desired blow.

you decided to keep your mouth shut and slowly reaches to his pants to pull it a bit, freeing his hardened cock. it was so hard and the tip so red. the sight makes you blush even more. if someone is asked to describe sunghoon’s manhood, they will probably say that its as beautiful as he is.

“go on.” he spat.

you gulped and licked your lips once before leaning in to wrap your lips to his dick. sunghoon bit his lower lip at the feeling of your hot mouth around him. he misses this. he wanted to curse so loud and to just shove it into you, but he stopped himself from doing so.

“fuck, just like that.” he moans and tried to open his eyes so he can watch you bobbing your head, getting your pace.

he saw how your hair covers your pretty face from his view and so he raised one of his hand to gather them and hold them for you.

“i got you, baby.” he whispers that made your core twitch.

you continued bobbing your head and sucking his dick, tasting sunghoon in your mouth. it was a familiar one, something that got inside your mouth a lot of time. later on, you can feel him thrusting his hips, meeting you. he was always rough and loves abusing your throat. he doesn’t care if you gag, he would even love that.

“fuck, fuck, fuck...” he growls and roughly shove his dick inside your mouth.

“gonna use that fucking mouth.” he says, “so pretty. so so damn pretty.” his compliments rings, but you’re too occupied on sucking him good.

there’s something about the way sunghoon moans. his voice whenever you give him immense pleasure serves as music to your ears. it was so erotic and just how he utters dirty words adds up to everything.

when you feel him almost reaching his climax, you’re so ready to accept and take it all. just a couple more deep thrust, sunghoon shoots his hot cum in the depths of your throat. groaning and moaning out of pleasure.

he lets go of your hair and pants while watching you suck him dry, letting out a faint ‘pop�� as you let him go.

“let me see.” he whispers and you open your mouth to show him how you swallowed every bit of it.

“good doll.” his words sent direct tingling feeling to your core, making you rub your thighs.

“we’re not yet done.” he says and stood up from the bench. he grabbed your arm to make you stand and guided you to sit down.

“strip for me.” that familiar line again.

with trembling hands, you try to take off the buttons of your blouse. sunghoon, as a very impatient guy he is, he curses and yanked your uniform, causing some of its buttons to fly off.

“sunghoon, what the he—” your words got interrupted when he pushed your body flat to the bench, making you lay down.

“shut the fuck up.” he says rudely and hovers above you.

his hand searches for your underwear and you whimper when his finger grazes your clit. he smirks, feeling your wetness.

“so wet for me. you’re such a slut, aren’t you?” he taunts that you answered with a faint ‘no’.

you tried to look away and avoid his gaze out of embarrasment for actually getting aroused for such foul situation. he scoffed and roll his eyes before removing your panties aggressively.

“i’m going to fuck you until you’re unable to think straight anymore.” and he aligned his head on your hole.

your brows furrowed, eyes shutting tightly. he traces your slit using his head before finally sliding it all in one go, making you gasp.

“fuck, look at my cock disappearing inside you.” he said and even ask you to lift your head so to see.

he was definitely right. he is fully buried inside you, and the pleasure it too much. you feel so full with all of him. he started pulling it out, only to slide it all back in again.

“u-ugh,” you let out a moan that clicked something in him, making him rut his dick rough and fast.

“s-sunghoon,” you whimpered, lips shaking as he continues to abuse your hole. “p-please slow down.” you plead.

he didn’t listen. in fact, he acts like as if he cannot hear any of your words. he placed both of his hands on your side, face above you as he continue relentlessly fucking you. his silver necklace hangs out from his shirt and now started moving along with his movement, slightly slapping to your pretty face. his brows sexily furrowed, jaw clenching while he utters low curses.

“i’m going to fucking breed you. you want that, doll?” he asks in a taunting way that made you whimper even more.

he scoffed at how you look beneath him. trying so hard not to let out your moan, when he can clearly see how much you’re enjoying and feeling so good from how deliciously he fucks you deep.

“you already have four dicks to fuck you and you still can’t be contented? what a bad girl.” he clicked his tongue and you opened your eyes to met his. it darkens as he started to roughly fuck you.

“you just never learn.” he growls and you can see the hint of anger in his eyes.

it scared you and your hand held his arm in attempt to push him away. but he was too strong. he didn’t budge and yank your hand, dismissing any chances of stopping him.

“who’s my pretty doll?” his grin grew wider, eyes full of nothing but lust for you.

you kept your mouth shut while still looking him straight at his eyes, tears brimming your eyes. he’s dominating you from above and you look so helpless beneath him.

when he didn’t heard an answer from you, he halts his hip from rutting you that made you whine slightly. he gripped your arm tight that you’re so sure it will leave a mark later, eyes piercing.

“who’s my pretty doll, y/n?” he asks in a very low tone, like a warning.

“answer me.” he commands that sent shivers to your spine.

you whined, “m-me.”

a smirk spreads across his face and leans in to connect his red luscious lips to your swollen ones, giving you a messy kiss. a string of saliva stretches when he leans away.

“you belong to me. you belong to us.” his words with so much emphasis that you can really tell how serious he is.

“i will fucking kill whoever tries to take you.”

“sunghoon, wait...” you can see how he’s starting to move in faster pace, almost making you see stars. one of his hand moves and reaches for your neck, slightly choking you.

“hoon—”

“that fucker, who do he think he is?! he’s nobody!”

you gasp and tried to take heavier breaths, trying not to be too distracted by how much pleasure sunghoon’s dick is giving you.

heeseung’s words then flashes through your mind. he said you can calm him down. how? obviously, this is the right time to show that skill.

instead of feeling scared of him, you snaked your hand on his nape and pulled his face closer. his forehead touches yours as you glance straight to his eyes, trying hard not to roll them up due to the imminent orgasm you’re about to have.

sunghoon was caught off-guard at your action. his eyes widen while still rutting his hip deep and rough. you look so beautiful from this distance, your pretty eyes filled with tears, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. all because of him. all for him.

“i’m s-sorry.” you mumbled close to his face.

he was at daze, his movement getting slower but his thrust remains deep, reaching all the good spots of your insides. almost making you crazy. you trap your lower lip in between your teeth, getting totally distracted.

“i’m so s-sorry, hoon.” you repeat your words, this time a little bit more softer.

while your foreheads still attached, you placed a gentle kiss on his face then flash a smile.

“i’m here.” and you heaved a sigh, “i’m yours. stop being mad, please.”

and with that, sunghoon relaxes, his breathing becoming more calm and his eyes softening as they stare at you.

he leans away to drop a kiss at your forehead before connecting them again as he start fucking you roughly. he groans and kisses your lips from time to time, moaning your name along with your sweet whimpers.

“f-fuck, baby. i’m close.” he whispers.

“me t-too.”

sunghoon dicked you down even faster trying to chase that climax. he kisses you, tongue dancing with yours, salivas mixing up. both of you are unbothered, mind filled by nothing but your lust and want to release.

“shit.” he curses as he shoot his cum inside your dripping cunt, your legs starts to shake, cumming as well.

he continued sliding his cock in and out, chasing both of your highs while making out. he moves away and watched how his dick slides out of you. his stares wandered all over your body, eyes full of desires.

“i’m sorry.” he mumbles as he caress your arm that he hold too tight a while ago. it was so red, his hand left a print.

your mouth gapped in amusement. did you just heard thee park sunghoon say sorry? he’s not type to do that. and when did he ever talk in a soft tone?

“does it hurt?” he asks, using that foreign tone again.

you smiled a little, shaking your head to assure him. he stares right at your eyes for a while before dipping his head down for another kiss. your eyes shut as you accept his kisses with no complains.

the bell from the next building is what snaps you back to your senses. his kisses moves to your chin then down to your neck.

“h-hoon, its almost time for our class. we need to go back.” your fingers run through his soft hair.

you wait for him to hiss at you for actually touching it as you are well aware how sensitive he is when it comes to his hair. but none. no complain or side comments about it.

he gave you a few more pecks before finally letting you go.

“you broke my uniform.” your lips pursed while staring down.

he just finished cleaning you up and you’re making yourself look presentable when you remembered how he broke the buttons of your blouse after pulling it hardly.

sunghoon smirks and opens his locker. he retrieves a uniform then handed it to you.

“here, you can use mine.”

the boys and girl’s top uniform is pretty similar, the only difference is the girls are shorter. some even had theirs cropped to style it in their own preference.

you accepted it and removes your broken uniform. he trudges closer then gently took the blouse from your hand so you can wear his easily. his eyes watches you closely making you feel a bit shy.

he helped you wear his uniform. “thank you.” you said, blushing.

he smirks and dips his head for a quick kiss. you’re too surprised to even say anything. you’re just too shock how he's acting right now.

“let’s go. we’re already late. heeseung hyung will be pissed.” and he grabs your things to carry it himself.

you knocked twice at your classroom when you arrived. the two of you are late and you’re silently praying the teacher's not in a bad mood today.

she cracks the door open and your homeroom teacher scans you up and down. her strict eyes watches you, eyebrow raising.

“ms. y/n. you are late.” she says.

“i’m s-sorry, ma'am.”

she was left with no choice but to let you inside. everyone’s eyes are darted at you and its very uncomfortable. your hand unconsciously plays through the edge of your uniform— more like sunghoon's. they gave you a look of curiosity. why you’re late when you’re someone never late for a class and whose uniform is that? clearly, it wasn’t yours.

before you reach your chair, you have to walk pass jake’s. his piercing and playful eyes are darted at you, grin so wide because he knew exactly where you’ve been.

“lips so swollen, sweetheart.” he stated that made you blush even more. some students who seats near him, heard it and gave you this look.

“mr. park.” is what your teacher said the moment you sat down to your chair.

when you look over the door, park sunghoon walks inside at ease. not even bothered that he’s late. his bag hangs over his shoulder while one of his hand holds yours.

“practice.” he reasoned shortly before heading your way, not even sparing your teacher a glance.

he ignored the eyes watching him and focused his stares right at you. the three other boys shrugs their shoulder off and boredly face front. jake’s smirking, jay rolled his eyes and heeseung watches carefully

sunghoon placed your things on the side of your table and leaned down to look through your eyes.

“here, baby.” he says casually then messed your hair before walking to his chair.

lips of some girls from your class are gapped open at the scene they just witnessed. they cannot believe it and wondered what’s between you and park sunghoon. they are beyond surprise and you can’t help but to just shrug it off. what more if they finds out his three other friends are involve too?

the classes continued normally, or that’s what you try to make yourself believe. the stares from your classmates are often darted at you. still not over about the scene a while ago. it was slowly getting annoying.

while writing down on your paper, you heard a chair being dragged to your side.

“hey,” your head looked over jake who just sat down.

“yeah?”

he tilts his head, “did you have fun?”

your mouth hangs open, what happened a while ago flashes back to your mind instantly because of his question. jake saw it and he grins before scoffing.

“you did.” he touches your chin to make you look up, “your face says it all.” he added and grins, masking the emotion slowly igniting inside his chest.

you gulped and licked your lips.

“j-jake,” you called him.

he raised one of his brows, waiting for what you’re going to say.

“about beomgyu...” your word halts.

the instant change on his mood just proves you that he has something to do with how the boys are treating you. his eyes turned cold, jaw clenching slightly.

“what about him?” his stingy tone rings your head.

“its not what you think—”

“jake.” both of your heads whips to the direction of the voice who called him.

lee heeseung stood by the door, watching you both with his heated gaze. his eyes shifts to yours and it sent direct chills. your head lowering as an automatic response.

“y/n, can you grab these workbooks and help me take it to the student council office?”

envious eyes darted at your direction when he ask you that. you can even hear someone commented that why should it be you. his dark gaze he gave you indicates that you have no other choice but to follow him.

you stood up, jake's eyes stayed and never left you. he watch how you walks towards the table, near his friend. jay and sunghoon seems uninterested as they bicker over something he doesn’t care at all.

“which one should i carry?” you asked heeseung.

he used his chin to point the fewer stacks of workbooks, he took the heavier stacks. he’s the first one to leave the room and you stalked behind him. students in the hallways greets heeseung with amusement through their eyes. they don’t even notice you at all. they’re too focused on him.

when you arrived the student council office, he stops beside the door then glance at you with serious eyes. your stomach churns and suddenly felt agitated.

“place those books here so you can open the door.” he instructed that you obeyed right away.

he didn’t even budge from his position when you place additional weight to what he’s carrying. totally unbothered.

you opened the door for him and hold it so it wouldn’t be on the way. he smoothly walks inside and you remained standing by door, looking at him placing it neatly at the table.

his eyes trailed towards you.

“get inside and lock the door.” he says and you saw him loosening his school tie.

you gulped and instantly felt on edge. he watch how you closed the door and he only looked away after hearing the sound of the lock clicking.

“sit down here, angel.”

angel.

you blushed so hard and its a little crazy how one word affects you so much. the somersault inside your stomach added weigh on your emotions. his heated gaze totally not helping.

“heeseung, about beomgyu...” you started.

his face remained blank. unlike jake, he didn’t show any foul mood or anything. but that slightly bothers you more. heeseung is always calm, very reserved. his mysterious demeanor pulls you more into him, digging a bigger space for your curiosity.

“it wasn’t what you guys think. i know what’s happening these days is somehow connected to him.”

he sighed heavily and tilts his head, “we already warned you and sent him a message.”

the way he talks sounded so calm. like nothing can ever make him nervous or anxious. he never stutters and speaks with so much confidence. he knows what he’s saying and that’s makes him more attractive in people’s eyes. what’s sexier than a man who knows what he wants in life?

“he just told me that he’s sorry—”

“if he’s really sorry then he should just stayed away.” he cuts you off.

you licked your lips and was about to talk again when he lets out a strained sigh.

“enough.”

“i j-just—”

“strip for me.” your mouth hangs open and stared at his eyes.

he looked serious as usual. his eyes silently conveying a message that you’ll get in trouble if you don’t obey him right away. without much of a choice, you start to take off sunghoon’s uniform.

he looked at it with no emotion and brows slightly twitched at the sight of a bruise by your arm. it doesn’t really hurt, but it was evident.

“does it hurt?” his tone full of concern.

you’re quite amused at him, blushing.

“no. don’t worry.”

“he lost control, didn’t he?” his hand reaches for it, caressing it gently like it will aid it. he looks at your eyes, waiting for your answer.

“just f-for a short time...”

he sighs and nods his head. this isn’t the time to talk or think about sunghoon’s bad temper. he tilt his chin, asking you to continue. when you’re left with your underwears he stood up then stared down at you.

“lay down on the table.”

your eyes grew big, hesitant to his request.

“won’t they come here? i thought the student body are busy today...?”

he glanced on your eyes once and it was enough to shut your mouth then do as he says. he offered his hand for assistance. his hand are warm, unlike sunghoon’s. he helped you step on a chair so you can climb on the table.

it feels so awkward sitting on it and having heeseung stand in between your thighs.

“lay down. i want to eat you.” he said so casually that made your core twitch in so much anticipation.

you wanted to curse yourself for how your body reacts to them. this isn’t how it suppose to be. you should protest and tell them off. or even get mad because you thought they’re already interested to a different girl. but... why do you find yourself laying back on the table while lee heeseung is gradually taking your panties off?

“breath, angel.” he smirks and you glanced away feeling guilty. he knew you’ve been holding your breath since you climb to this table.

the feeling of being this naked in front of heeseung is so overwhelming, both in good and bad ways.

“eyes on me.”

his command made you lift your body so you can see him dip his head and spit on your already wet pussy. you pursed your lips, doesn’t want to let out a moan.

he lifts his hand and slide one finger inside. you can feel it so long and warm.

“did he stretch you enough for me?” he whispers so close to your cunt, his hot breath fanning to your wet core.

“heeseung...”

“shh.” he glared at you then added another finger.

“god, this pussy.” he groans and leans in attaching his lips, lapping your cunt.

“heeseung..” you moaned and covers your lips, feeling shy by how you whimper. it sounded pathetic.

the feeling of his hot long tongue grazing and slightly getting inside your hole drives you crazy. your thighs automatically closes, caging his head in between.

he looks at you over his eyelashes, one hand pushed your thigh open. he leans away, “keep it open for me, angel.”

he smirks and placed a kiss on the insides of your thighs, “i know it feels so good, but i want your legs open.”

he grabbed both of your hands, making you hold your legs. you whimpered, feeling frustrated that his lips are not latched on your aching core. he glanced at you and smirks after seeing your desperation.

“patience, angel.”

he then dips his head again and started eating you. it felt so good, he was doing it expertly, making your head all fuzzy.

“oh my gosh,” you moaned and throw your head back after feeling a knot forming inside your stomach.

“i’m c-cumming,”

“really? give it to me.”

and with that you released, legs shaking and eyes tightly shut. heeseung made sure he gets all of your juices, nothing spills. you tried to open your eyes to look at him and the scene was so erotic. heeseung put his lips on your hole and suck it.

“uggh.” your eyes shuts and lips shakes in so much pleasure.

he kept sucking and gave your slit one last long lick. after that, he stood up and wiped off his chin. he looked so satisfied. he helped you get up, head still all clouded with the intense feeling he just gave you.

he then took off his clothes and went to sit down at the sofa. the same couch where jay took you yesterday. he rests his arms and watch you intensely.

“ride me.”

with wobbly legs, you walked towards him. once in reach, he slides his hand on your waist and helps you to get in position. your straddle above him, knees bore at the sofa. he hold you and watch how you reach for his hardened cock. you gave it a few strokes before placing its head near your hole.

“oohh,” you can’t help but to moan.

“slowly...” he whispers, face already on your side. his lips grazes your ears dangerously.

the lust took over you completely, taking control of your mind and actions. you are losing it, just wanted to have him deep inside you. lower lip trapped in between your teeth you slowly sat on heeseung’s long thick cock, moaning as it reaches all the right spots.

“u-uhhh,” your stretched moan made heeseung grin. satisfied at how you’re so eager to have him inside you.

“move, angel. fuck my cock into you.” he whispered full of lust like hypnotizing you.

you started riding him, at first with slow pace until you feel more desperate for him. moaning and gasping as you continued bouncing, not caring if someone from outside hear your shenanigans.

“feel so good.” you mumbled.

“oh yeah? ride faster.”

you obeyed, but your poor stamina and the overstimuation makes you feel so weak. you slump on his lap, cock buried deep inside. your head rested on his shoulder, panting.

“tired already?” he asks softly that you responded with a short nod.

he chuckles and placed a swift kiss on your cheeks. “all right. place your hand on the sofa and lift yourself a bit, angel. i will fuck you myself.”

pulling yourself together, you do as he said. eyes half-lidded drowned in your own desires. heeseung watches with a grin and kisses you once at your lips before starting to rutt his cock to your cunt, his hips moving so fast that you make you a moaning mess.

“o-oh my gosh...” and your forehead rests on his shoulder.

“my baby so weak that he needs me to fuck you myself, hmm?” he bit your earlobe once that made you whimper.

the slapping sounds of your skins so erotic. enough to make you feel the knot inside your stomach once again. your grip on the sofa tighten along with your hole, making the man under you groan in pleasure.

“cumming already?”

you nod while biting your lips so hard. he smirks and kisses you eagerly, feeling himself reaching his climax as well.

“cum with me, angel.”

with a few more hard thrusts from heeseung, you came all over his length and not long after, he follows. groaning so hard while kissing you with furrowed brows. he kept fucking his dick in you while supporting you so you won’t fall.

he pulls away to focus on sliding his cock in and out as you rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling at crook of his neck.

“you’re such a good girl for me. for all of us.” you heard him whisper before placing a sweet kiss at your forehead.

“okay class we will have a group research project and i want you to participate properly in your group. i don’t want to hear some complains.” your teacher in your last period said.

the class reacts and gave their own comments. some already rants, the others being happy to do a group project and even say the people they wanted to work with.

you, on the other hand is resting your head on your table. too tired to even give a care about it. thankfully, the teacher after the lunch break didn’t attend and so you had the chance to take a nap after what you and heeseung did.

the thought itself made you blush so hard.

you teacher started announcing the groups. you tried hard to listen, waiting for your name to be called.

“park jongseong, jake sim, lee heeseung, park sunghoon and (surname) y/n).”

you slowly raised your head, blinking while staring in front. confused if you heard that right. did she just call your name? whose your group mates again?

“damn, she’s so lucky. why does it have to be her?” one of your girl classmates whispered to her friend while giving you a glaring look.

you noticed that the class are now moving seats to gather around by groups. still spacing out, you glanced around. waiting for someone to call you.

jake sim then raised his hand while jay pulls a vacant chair near his. the four pairs of eyes darts at you.

“y/n, come! we’re partners!” jake says excitedly.

your mouth fell open slightly while eyeing their direction. jake’s smile is wide, jay’s smirking along with sunghoon while heeseung eyes you seriously.

‘oh no...’ you thought to yourself.

since you don’t want to be scolded by your teacher, you stood up and slowly head to their direction.

“we’re going to have so much fun...” jake stated meaningfully before winking at you.

tag-list:

@shawnyle @kpopslays

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen hyung line #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen park jongseong #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake smut #enhypen park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon smut

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cressidagrey · 4 days ago

Text

Such A Mystery - Part 9

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

It felt like forever. He knew it wasn't. It must have been minutes until the car door was ripped open and Charles slipped in right next to him.

It wasn’t until the doors were slammed shut behind Charles that Max dared to look at the Monégasque.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Charles was still in his racing suit just as him, the suit itself streaked with sweat.

The moment the car door closed, the car started riving.

"Merde," Charles cursed. Max could only agree. "I am sorry, that it took this long."

Max gave a sharp, jerky shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize," he somehow managed to get the words out. "I’m just..." he trailed off, a shaky exhale escaping him. "How could you make it here so fast?" he asked, casting a quick glance in his friend’s direction.

Charles snorted. "Your press officer had a shouting match with Ferrari's,“ he said simply.

If Max wasn’t so focused on not completely losing it, he might’ve been amused with the mental image. But at the moment, he could only shake his head.

Next to him, Charles let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"No. You?" he gave back.

"I don't have a bad feeling," Charles said quietly. “Not worse than it has been for days at least.”

Twin Telepathy was apparently a thing as far as Charles and Colette were concerned.

Quite frankly, till this day, it still weirded Max out. They just seemed to know when the other one wasn't feeling well. 95% of the time, they got sick at the same time. They communicated more easily with each other than with anyone else, and regardless of what game they played...they needed to be put on opposite teams, because otherwise nobody had a chance against them.

Max was well aware of Colette and Charles' strange connection. Even if he didn’t fully understand it. They both had some sort of sixth sense when it came to the other one, and it sometimes felt like they were talking in secret code.

"What’s it telling you right now?" he asked, his voice barely above a rough whisper.

Charles turned to him fully at that, and Max saw the way his eyes swept over him, taking in every aspect of his appearance.

Max could only imagine what Charles was seeing. He felt like a walking wreck, and there was no doubt his appearance was mirroring that.

"Colette is in pain," Charles finally said, his voice strangely quiet. "She’s scared."

That answer felt like somebody shoved a knife into Max’s stomach. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat. “Of course, she is,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Charles seemed to sense what he was thinking, even without being telepathically connected through whatever the hell Colette and him had going on. The Monégasque reached out and took a firmer hold of his hand, the grip almost crushing.

"Don’t," Charles said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Don’t go there. We’re gonna get to her as fast as we can."

There was a brief moment of silence, as Max tried to collect himself. He focused all his attention on the pressure of Charles' hand on his, and somehow, it actually helped.

"I feel so goddamn useless," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to be with her."

"You want to try calling her before we are in the air?" Charles suggested.

That was not a bad idea, not at all. Max let out a low and slightly shaky exhale, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I…” he had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I’ll try to call her.”

His hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone out of the backpack that somebody had handed off to him, already packed. Regardless of all the drama that had gone on in the RedBull garage during the year… if it really mattered, the people in there pulled off minor miracles.

Within minutes, his entire day - hell, his entire week - had been packed for him, with all the essentials of clothes and everything else he would need.

He had almost forgotten about the phone in his shaking hands, but now he just stared at the screen for a moment. His fingers were trembling so badly that just unlocking the phone was a challenge in itself.

Jimmy and Sassy were on his lockscreen...a picture that Colette had once sent him when he had been away for one of his races...the two of them laying on top of her on their couch...

Every other time Max saw the photo, it made his heart do a little funny jump. Now though, it made his chest ache. It felt like a sharp stabbing pain, and for a moment, he just sat there and stared at the picture.

Then he called her.

It rang. And it rang, and it rang again. With each passing second, that horrible knot in his stomach tightened a little more. With every ring of the bell, it got harder to breathe.

Finally, to Max’s immense and enormous relief, the line connected.

"Hey, Maxie. I put you on speaker," Victoria's voice came over the phone, sounding surprisingly calm.

A shiver of something resembling dread ran through Max, at the sound of Victoria’s voice. But he pushed past the feeling.

His thoughts were once again running wild - was it a bad sign that Colette wasn’t the one speaking to him? Or was he just overreacting..?

“Hey,” he forced the word out past the lump in his throat. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pleading for Colette's voice. Was it selfish that he just wanted to hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay?

"Better now," Colette's voice came, sounding slightly hoarse.

The words were like a shot of adrenaline, and for a moment, Max actually felt a little lightheaded. “Liefje.” He closed his eyes, just hearing her voice sending another wave of relief through him. “Are you okay? How is Bébé?”

"Bébé has decided that they would rather be born today, so I would suggest you hurry up," Victoria said drily.

"Seems like the kid already inherited Max's need for speed," Charles quipped. "How are you doing, Coco?"

"I'm good," Colette's voice replied, and Max could only imagine the eye-roll that was currently happening. He knew his girlfriend, and he had no doubt that she had been glaring at Victoria ever since the phone was put on speaker.

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly turning much softer. "You're coming, right?"

"Coming," he assured her, his heart aching. "We're coming, I promise."

"I know. I’m not worried." She sounded like she meant it, but Max could easily imagine the anxiety in her eyes.

"You'd better not worry," Charles said, and then added, "I’m keeping him from doing anything dumb."

Max shot Charles a dirty look at that, bt he swallowed down the annoyed protest and focused back on Colette instead. “Just…hold on a little longer, okay?”

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Colette replied, her voice slightly amused. "I’ll keep our little speed demon in there a little lo...." She broke off and let out a quiet hiss of pain, her voice once again cut off by what Max suspected to be a particularly painful contraction.

“Colette,” he said sharply, all kinds of emotions washing over him, one by one. “Liefje, just…just breathe through it, okay?”

There was a second of panting, then, he heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she finally said. “Just…hurts like hell.”

He swallowed and clenched his free hand tightly into a fist, fighting against the urge to just jump out of the car and start running towards the airport.

Colette being in pain was not something he could deal with.

He heard her take a few more deep breaths, and he just sat there, waiting and listening and feeling absolutely useless.

"How long until you get here?" she asked after a moment, her voice breathless. He could see her in his mind, his sweet girl, sitting on the bed and clutching her belly as another contraction hit her.

"We're not even at the airport yet," he told her, and damn it, why were his eyes suddenly burning. "We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just...hold on a little longer."

"What your dad said..." Colette said with a shaky voice.

"I know," he said simply, the grief raw in his voice. Neither of them were ever really going to get over the two babies they had lost. They had learnt to live with the pain, they had dealt with the heartbreak an grief...but it was always going to be scar for them.

"Max, if something…" she began, her voice a little wobbly. He could tell that she was crying, by the way her breathing got a little more hitched and ragged.

But she suddenly cut off and gasped, letting out an even breath. Another contraction..."Hey, nothing is gonna happen," he quickly said, trying to soothe her. "Nothing. I'll be there soon. I'll be there before you know, and our child will meet their parents. We will be fine, we will get through this. You, and me. Together."

"If something happens," Colette continues. "If..."

"No," he cut her off, the word coming out as a growl. "Nothing is gonna happen. You will not talk that way. You’re going to deliver a gorgeous and healthy baby, and I won’t hear anything else."

"Max..." she protested, but Max wasn’t having it.

"You’re not going anywhere," he said firmly, putting as much steel in his voice as he could. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine, and I will be there soon and I will hold your hand and you can threaten to geld me and all of it will be okay. Just breathe.”

He could hear the sound of her breathing, deep and even. She was trying to steady it, and Max gripped his phone tighter. He didn’t know if he was trying to hold himself together, or if he was trying to hold on to the sound of her voice.

The seconds ticked by, and then another contraction hit, and he heard her gasp out another ragged breath. Max felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. The idea of her in pain was like an invisible knife twisting a little deeper in his gut, each time.

"We need to go," Charles said suddenly. "We need to get into the plane." The car slowed down at that moment. "Coco, listen to me. I am going to be absolutely fucking furious with you if something happens to you," Charles told her fiercely.

"Trust me," Colette’s voice said, sounding slightly tired. "I am very, very motivated to stay alive."

That was good. That was a good sign. If she was still being sarcastic and even a little bit cheeky…it was good.

"Just hold on," he told her again, the familiar feeling of helplessness seeping into his bones. "Just keep hanging on, for me. I love you."

“I love you too,” the words were as immediate and as fast as the sunrise each morning. "Hurry up, dammit."

"I’m trying," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m trying. We’re at the airport now. We’ll get there as fast as we can-" he had to stop, when he heard her let out another pained gasping sound, as another contraction clearly hit her hard.

“Goddamn,” he exclaimed, all of his muscles tense with the urge to do something. He wanted to help her, he wanted to be there to comfort her…but more than anything, he was terrified of losing her. "Liefje, just keep breathing, okay? Breathe and stay calm."

"I’m trying to," her voice was breathless, and he knew that she was probably trying hard to fight the urge to cry out. Oh God, he hated that. He hated seeing her in pain, he loathed feeling this utterly useless.

"Go. Love you," she told him.

"I love you," he told her emphatically, wanting to say something more, but then Charles impatiently gestured at him to hurry up and get out of the car. "I...I’ll see you soon, okay? Just hang on, okay?"

"Yeah," he could tell that she was trying even harder to control her voice, trying to put on a calm and steady front for his benefit. "Just..." she cut off and let out a gasp, another contraction evidently hitting her hard. "...just hurry up before this baby decides to make their way out before you arrive, okay?"

"I will," he promised through gritted teeth. "I will, goddammit, I will, just…hang on."

He heard Colette’s pained panting, and each of her breaths was like a stab in the gut.He hated having to hang up on her

Everything in him rebelled at that. How could he, how could he possibly abandon her like that, how could he let her take on this pain and fear all by herself, without him there to hold her hand...but goddamnit, he had no choice.

He took a shuddering breath and pushed past the urge to scream, to slam his fist into something, anything. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from the desperate need to get to her, to overwhelming panic, to anger at the universe for forcing them apart and for putting her through this pain.

Into the plane they went…it was probably the shortest amount of time between entering a plane and taking off Max had ever experienced.

Before too long they were up in the air, flying towards Nice.

The minutes ticked by, each one passing by like a century. Max would sit in restless agitation at his seat, his mind racing back and forth. Every thought and memory came back to Colette. He just wanted to be at her side, he just wanted everything to be okay…

And instead he would be stuck on this plane for 6 hours.

He would be stuck on this goddamn plane for six hours. Six hours, each one of them filled with the knowledge that the love of his life was giving birth to their child, and he was not there to support her, to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was okay.

It was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn’t take it, he just wanted to be there, with her. He could vividly picture her, sitting in the hospital bed and gripping the rails, her face screwed up in pain as she fought through another contraction. And he was not there to comfort her.

"Maman is with her. Your sister is with her. Lorenzo and Arthur too." Charles said at that moment. “We aren't there but everybody else is."

"How can you be this calm?" Max asked him, dragging a hand through sweat damp hair.

"Don't mistake calm for not being worried," Charles said evenly, his eyes tracking Max's restless pacing of the plane. "I am worried. For her, for you and for the little one. But freaking out isn't gonna do anyone any favours right now."

"I know,” Max said, his voice still strangled tight with stress. He just couldn't get any of the images out of his mind - her struggling and fighting her way through the pain, looking more vulnerable and pale than he had ever seen her...and he was not there.

“Besides, I shouted at Ferrari’s PR and got it out of my system, so currently, I am feeling quite calm.” Charles said darkly. “I imagine that’s going to change again when I am sure that Colette and the baby are alright.”

Max just stared at him. Charles had done what?

If there was a religion that Charles Leclerc believed in then it was Ferrari.

Charles Leclerc was their golden boy. Their Il Predestinato. There was no good-natured fobbing to be had about Ferrari regardless of what issues there had been had through the years, and there had been a lot.

Charles worshipped Ferrari like a malevolent goddess. He didn’t want to hear any criticism of his team and Max had given up on that a very long time ago.

Charles and Colette both could be the most stubborn people Max had ever match. The only one who could match their stubbornness were each other.

"You did what?" Max stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Charles was an absolute Ferrari fan and loyal to the very core…why the hell would he yell at the PR people?

"Why...? What did they do?"

"They weren't even going to tell me that something was wrong with Colette," Charles said darkly. "I knew it. I knew that something was off. But they didn't say anything. It was one of Red Bull's PR Staff that got me out of the cooldown room. Ferrari wouldn't have said anything to me. Ferrari didn't want me to leave either. They wanted to debrief, they wanted me to give interviews,"

Max had to resist the urge to swear. He had been so focused on the fact that he was not with Colette that he hadn't even processed the fact that Ferrari had actually kept her labour a secret from Charles, simply to make him stay and do his goddamn job for them.

"You know that that is not normal, right?" he asked him drily. "I am not telling you that everything is perfect at Red Bull but Christian would never fucking stand for that."

"You know I never expected it," Charles told him, his mouth a thin hard line. "We are the drivers. We are the stars. But we come second. First and foremost, we are assets to the team. What Ferrari wants, Ferrari gets. We drive, we get podiums, we hold the trophies, and we smile for the cameras. Everything else comes second. It doesn’t matter to them. To them, only the trophies matter. "

"That's what they want," Max told him, anger seeping into his voice. "But that's not how it should be. Ferrari is wrong. If something is wrong with your loved ones, they have no right to keep it from you like that. Especially not for the sake of a goddamn interview."

"I know," Charles said, his lips thin with bitterness. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there? We may be the top drivers on the grid, but we drive the car that the teams give us. There's only so much that we can do when the team has power over pretty much every aspect of our career. And believe me, I am going to pay a fucking price for doing what I did. I just don't care at all. It's Colette," he said sharply. "I love all my siblings. I do. I love Lorenzo and Arthur. I would do everything for them. But they aren't my twin. They aren't the second half of me," Charles said simply. "Ferrari be damned."

Max hadn't thought that he was ever going to hear these words out of Charles' mouth but here they were.

"What the fuck did Jos say by the way? What did Coco mean?" Charles demanded.

"He gave an interview to Sky Sports," Max said, fury still embering deep in his gut.

"Of course he did." Charles said, not sounding surprised at all. "What did he say?"

"Confirmed the relationship...and the pregnancy," Max said clenching his teeth. "And if that wasn't enough...he made a...comment about how it had taken us long enough to have a baby."

There was a sharp indrawn breath as Charles absorbed that. "...What?" Charles said after a moment, his voice strangled. "...he made that comment in public? Are - are you serious?"

"I never told him about the two...miscarriages," Max said quietly. "I couldn't deal with whatever well meant advice he was going to have...but I...We lost two babies," Max said weakly. "My father went out there and confirmed our relationship and the pregnancy without talking to either of us. He just made that decision because it's "ridiculous" that we kept it a secret for so long. An it’s making me furious. This wasn't his decision to make. This was ours."

"Yes," Charles said, his jaw clenching. "It was. Your decision. Nobody else’s. He had absolutely no right to do that. Goddamn it, I have never liked that man, but I've never had the urge to punch him as much as I do this very moment."

"You and me both," Max said. The anger he was feeling would have been burning through him like a damn inferno if he hadn't been so worried about Colette.

"This should have come from us," Max repeated quietly. "Not from anybody else."

"It still can come from you," Charles said.

Max paused, looking up at him. "Are you saying we should..." he began uncertainly.

"You want to tell the entire world that you love my sister and that she is having your baby? You have an Instagram account and a phone with an internet connection," Charles said drily. "Tell them the truth. Your truth."

Max opened his mouth and then closed it again. Charles had a point. It was obvious what the news was going to be now if people had seen Jos's interview.

But he wanted to be the one to tell the world. He wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted it to be public but on his public terms. Not his father's.

"Are you ever going to ask my sister to marry you?" Charles asked him suddenly.

The question caught him completely off guard. "...What?" He said blankly, stunned by the change of the conversation.

"You gave her a ring when you were both 18 that you both insisted was only a promise ring," Charles said drily. "Are you ever going to replace it with the real thing?"

He thought back to that ring that still sat on Colette's finger to this day. A simply gold band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond.

He had given it to her in 2016, after his very first Grand Prix win in Spain. He had gone out and bought it that very same day to be exact.

He had bought Victoira a handbag the first time he had scored his championship points...but the first time he had won...he had bought Colette that ring.

"Apparently the baby is only going to have your surname too, because you have an agreement," Charles continued. "Do I actually want to know what that agreement was?"

"We were 18. Both our father's would have probably killed us, if we came to them and told them that we were engaged," Max said with a sigh. The Leclerc's had always been supportive of their relationship but Hervè Leclerc had very much thought that both Colette and him were far too young to get married.

Jos on the other hand...Max didn't even want to imagine that screaming fit. "So I gave her that ring and we agreed that..."

"You agreed that..." Charles repeated slowly, silently urging him to continue.

Max let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand through his already messy hair, mussing it up even more. "We agreed that we didn't really need a piece of paper to tell us what we already knew," he said simply. "Colette and I had been together for 6 years at that point, we already knew and accepted that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. It was just a matter of when. So we decided that we didn't need a damn piece of paper to know that we were committed to each other. We already knew that, without a doubt," Max said simply. "It was a promise ring. To love and to cherish, till death us do part. One day we would do it properly, but till then...that ring was a promise."

Charles stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You have been married to my sister for 10 years?" he asked him sharply.

Max winced. Okay. Put like that, it sounded kinda bad. "We never had the actual wedding," he said sheepishly. "We both know it wasn't necessary for us, so...we kinda just...never got around to it."

"I mean, I did ask your father for her hand in marriage when it was clear that he wasn't going to be there...when we eventually did it properly...but...for us that ring was… It was more than enough," Max said quietly. "I knew damn well that I would be with her for the rest of my life. She knew it. We both knew it. And that ring was a symbol between us that sealed the deal. We both knew that it was going to be for forever and always. It was a promise. A promise to always stay by each other’s side. No matter how badly things fell apart around us. No matter how much the world wanted to tear us to apart. We were going to stay together, come hell or high water. We didn't need a paper to prove that to us or the rest of the world," Max said firmly.

Charles stared at him for a couple of long moments, processing this. Max was well aware that, from an outside perspective, it might sound weird. That they had been so young, but so utterly certain that they were going to spend their lives together.

But he and Colette had been together for years. And he had seen how strongly they had bonded over the years, seen what they had been able to deal with as a team, as one, and how they had come through every single thing that the life had thrown at them together.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Charles finally said drily. "You didn't get engaged because as far as you two were concerned you already got married years ago."

Max winced a little bit and couldn't really refute it. If he were to be honest, he'd have admit it did sound utterly ridiculous, when Charles spelled it out like that.

But that just...that was how badly they had known right from the very beginning that this was it for them. They didn't need a piece of paper to tell them what they already knew.

"I'll ask her properly," he promised Charles. "I already got the ring. But Colette doesn't want to overshadow Lorenzo and Charlotte and I knew that she wasn't going to want to have a big party while pregnant so I figured I would just wait."

Charles was slightly taken aback by his words, before he gave a small smile. "She'll definitely say yes, you know," he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.

Max smiled in return. His heart ached with the thought of her. "I hope so," he said quietly, feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. "I really, really hope so."

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galactic-magick · 1 month ago

Text

I Love You, I'm Sorry: Viktor x Reader

Based off of this reply on my last Viktor fic:

@lillycore : Duddee, imagine after the final scene between Viktor and Jayce they just disappear (I refuse to believe they both died, I’m just going believe, until it’s confirmed, that they simply teleported somewhere else), leaving reader alone without a chance to confront Viktor and believing they both died. So now, reader is left to pick up the pieces of her closest friend and love of her life gone, while believing Viktor no longer loves her (he does though, he was just a little confused with everything, but he still loves her)

Words: 1.2k

Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for the notes and kind words on my last Viktor fic, it truly means the world to me as a writer to see so many people touched by my writing. I hope you enjoy this equally devastating part 2.

They’re gone. They’re really gone.

No family, no friends, not a single loved one of yours survived this damn war. All this world has done is take, take, take.

You’re haunted by the last time you saw your beloved Viktor—completely unrecognizable. He had turned himself into a monster, disappearing with Jayce trying to save him. You didn’t even get to say goodbye, you didn’t even get to tell him you still love him.

Or ask if he still loved you.

You don’t know what would hurt less, believing he stopped loving you, or believing he did everything he did while loving you.

“Why can’t she hear me?” Viktor shouts into the void. He’s been calling your name for what feels like an eternity, his voice no longer carrying to your world.

Jayce puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You don’t have vessels to speak through anymore. She probably thinks we’re dead. Well, maybe we are…”

“No, no, this can’t be the end,” Viktor shakes his head vigorously. “I have to get back to her. She...she needs to know I love her. She needs to know I’m sorry.”

He falls to his knees amongst the stars, cursing himself for everything. How could he choose the hexcore over you? Why didn’t he seek you out when he survived the explosion? How did he let himself descend so far into madness that he forgot about your importance to him?

He’s now desperate for you to hear him, pleading the forces that bind his consciousness to this astral plane for another chance. He searches this dimension he’s come to know so well, looking for a loophole or tear in the fabric, but it’s no use. Everything has been closed—his supposed eternal consequence for his abuse of power.

Jayce saved him from himself, a feat he will forever be indebted to him for, but what is the point of redemption if he cannot live it out in his own flesh?

Would there have been a body left for him anyway? Would you still have loved him as the monstrosity he became?

Why must he still be cursed with the full vision of the universe? He sees you continue your life so clearly, but he can’t touch you, can’t speak to you. Your form shines the brightest light he’s ever seem in this dimension, an achievement that is not easily matched. He wonders if you can feel him reaching out to you, some sort of spiritual pull back to him. He will do anything to find a way to talk to you again.

You’ve been having dreams—dreams you can’t explain. Ever since Viktor’s disappearance, he’s tormented you day and night, constantly occupying your thoughts without mercy. You can hear his voice, but it sounds so far away you can never make out the words. You just wish it would all stop. You wish you could just erase him and all of the pain from your memory.

Sometimes you still feel a presence, the feeling you used to feel when he was in the same vicinity with you, admiring you from across a room. It’s a familiar warmth that used to wash you with peace, whereas now it makes your heart ache. You suppose it’s a normal symptom of grief, subconsciously denying that he’s really gone.

You start to go through his things he left at your house, beginning with his various textbooks and notebooks he would bring over for studying. Seeing his scribbles and handwriting again brings tears to your eyes, a single drop falling onto the paper as you read.

You blink a few times, seeing a couple of letters on the page start to glow. You must be seeing things, hallucinating from sleep deprivation. You close the journal and open it again, but the glowing letters are still there.

You grab a separate piece of paper and write down each glowing letter, finding fifteen total.

“I - L-O-V-E - Y-O-U - I-M - S-O-R-R-Y”

This isn’t happening. It can’t be.

“It’s working! She got my message!” Viktor exclaims.

“How...how are you doing that?” Jayce asks.

“Tiny rips in space—not big enough for either of us to escape through—but certainly big enough to briefly touch that reality,” Viktor pauses, still waiting for a response from you, but it doesn’t come.

You close the journal and sob, praying for an end to this misery. Your mind is playing tricks on you, deceiving you to a level you never thought possible. Must you be haunted by this forever? Must you endure the aftermath of this trauma?

You open it once again, the letters still glowing, but they start to fade right in front of your eyes. A new set of letters begin to glow, so you write those down as well.

“I-T-S - M-E - D-A-R-L-I-N-G”

And then another set of letters.

“P-L-E-A-S-E - T-A-L-K - T-O - M-E”

Maybe you’re not imagining.

You’ve heard of magicians who can converse with the dead, and the possibility of other dimensional planes and universes. Viktor himself had some theories about it, although he never pursued proving them. Could it really be possible that your beloved was speaking to you?

“Viktor?” you say out loud. “Are you...are you alive?”

“I - D-O-N-T - K-N-O-W”

The pencil drops from your hand again as your head falls to the table. His consciousness is somehow alive, clearly, but there’s no way he can explain to you where he is and how to get him out one letter at a time. You’re nowhere near his level of intellect—even if he explained how to rescue him like you’re five years old—you fear you still would mess something up.

“Viktor...I can’t do this. You can’t do this to me,” you sigh, daring to look at the words again. “You abandoned me, and now my life is a living hell because of the destruction you helped cause. I want nothing to do with your war and stupid glorious evolution. So if you’re not here to take me away from this life, please go away.”

The same original words start glowing again, brighter each time they sequence:

I love you, I’m sorry.

“Love doesn’t do what you did. Love doesn’t abandon its humanity for power.”

Please forgive me.

“I do forgive you for everything, Viktor. That’s exactly why I need to forget about you, because I will never stop loving you and hurting for it if I don’t.”

With blurry eyes, you close the journal and throw it into the fireplace, regretting it almost immediately. You grab a stick and pull it out, your tears falling onto the soot-stained cover.

“Please, just...find a way back to me.”

I will.

#viktor arcane x reader #machine herald x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #machine herald

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r3starttt · 3 months ago

Text

STAY SOFT

PAIRING: Hunter! Ellie x vamp! reader

CW: blood. fighting. oral. knife play. unfinished, hurried, horribly written, I WILL DO IT PROPERLY AND DECENT LATER ALRIGHT

SUMMARY: you're obsessed with each other. and alone!

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @s4pphic-myth @levilvrr @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @softlikesilk-chiffon @grey-jedi12 @slut4ellienabby @roos4lm4 @elliezlils11utt @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @roos4lm4 @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles @0court @dinakisser @lott6i

| ELLIE TAGLIST: @ilovetaylorrr @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages @aouiaa @chlobearsworld @crispers @bruhhtsukjf @twopeoplee

Blood glistened through your pearly teeth as a guttural moan escaped the man’s lips. You feasted on him, ravenous, devouring his neck without mercy, your fangs drinking deeply from his veins.

He thought he’d finally get to feel your body, to sense the curve of your hips in the intimate closeness that had filled his mind since the moment he first saw you. His grip was firm and leading, but unsteady, and the urgency in his touch felt—was—disrespectful.

Your laugh was captivating, almost like a siren’s song—an immaculate melody that echoed men’s worst desires. When you hummed against their skin, lips just inches away, it drove them mad. With your flawless skin, soft hair, and those eyes holding something dark and mysterious, men were too drunk or too lustful to notice or care. Red or not, it didn’t matter to them. Each time you danced for them, held them close, and led them into some shadowy corridor with your soft voice, you’d ask them to share—did they do this often? They’d always say no, swearing you were the only one, or the forever one.

With women, it was different. You’d hold them gently, push their neck aside, and kiss their tender skin. Sometimes, you imagined men might feel this way about you, and the guilt would almost fade. But when you were feeding on men, you realized how different it truly was. They didn’t submit; they gripped. They didn’t murmur; they shouted and commanded. They didn’t seek eternity like the women did—they sought to drain you, leave you discarded. Women, on the other hand, would quietly thank you with soft whimpers. If they were too weak, you’d look into their angelic eyes, see their pretty lashes flutter, and kiss their last breath away with your cold hands.

Men? They would curse you to hell—if they had the chance.

This one, though, wasn’t your usual prey. He was cruel, harsh, and nasty, and the way he treated her—it sickened you. So you begged for his attention, holding him against the wall the moment you had him alone, sinking your fangs into his vile neck. His sweat, dirt, and alcohol assaulted your senses, lingering on your tongue, teeth, and skin until it was all washed away by his blood. Even that tasted sour.

“Look at me,” you commanded, casting a sharp glance at his fading form. You dug your nails into his cheek, nearly tearing the skin. His eyes, glazed with alcohol, barely registered the pain. He was too weak to fight, but even if he tried, your strength far outmatched any human's. You sneered at his mustache, disgust evident on your face.

“Hey…” you hissed, your fangs glistening in the dim light. He obeyed with a pathetic whimper.

“Good boy,” you taunted. “You like being called that, don’t you?” You laughed as blood dripped from his cheekbones, down his neck, soaking your hand and his filthy clothes.

“Fucking—” he tried to gasp out his last breath, but before you could finish him off, a dagger pierced your body.

The pain was unreal. It wasn’t the sharp agony you inflicted on your victims but something deeper, burning and itching as it spread through your veins. The scream that tore from your throat was inhuman, loud enough to make the walls tremble. The man fell limp beneath you as you clawed at your own skin, trying to rid yourself of the unbearable sensation.

Footsteps echoed, heavy boots against the concrete. A quiet, almost smug “got you” drifted through the air. You forced your eyes open, vision blurred, but you saw her—a woman dressed in black, her face obscured by metal, weapons strapped across her body, a dagger in one hand and a blade ready in her pocket.

A gunshot rang out. Your arm ripped open, burning more fiercely than any bullet wound should. Your eyes flashed red, pupils dilating with a rage that surpassed anything you’d ever felt toward a man. But before she could come any closer, you vanished into the shadows, slipping from her grasp.

Ellie groaned, glancing up at the dark night, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. She lived for you, craved you more than any man ever could. Her mind was as twisted and perverted as a man’s, driven by a selfish desire to own you, to hear you scream her name in agony and hang you on her wall like a prized trophy. She wanted to see the eternal fear etched on your face.

She longed to touch you—just once. If she never captured you, someone eventually would. Her lips parted in a quiet curse as she crouched over the dead man’s body, searching his pockets for anything of value. She found nothing but alcohol, cigarettes, and a few worthless coins. Maybe it was time to quit, become a full-fledged alcoholic—not like she wasn’t halfway there already.

You, the elusive vampire of this small, forsaken town, were her obsession. You were the only reason she kept going, the excuse for her drinking, her nights in underground bars, and her constant hunt. If she caught you, she’d have everything—money, fame, recognition. That’s what every woman wanted, wasn’t it? To be seen, to be known. Ellie was no exception. She had nothing but the hunt and the little money she earned, most of which went to booze or was stolen by the men in her life.

She didn’t hate you, though. She didn’t even want you dead. She just wanted to possess you, to have something that was truly hers, to see her name carved into your skin.

You didn’t hate her either. You understood women—all of them. You knew their desires, their cravings for what they couldn’t have. It wasn’t wrong, but you knew many of them would never get what they wanted. Killing them was a mercy, a twisted proof of love. But you wouldn’t die for them. Not that you could anyway.

You had seen Ellie before, days prior. She was at a bar, sitting beside you with alcohol in hand, staring blankly at the wall. She fiddled with a bracelet, glancing at it over and over, until her thoughts drowned in the liquor. When she finally left, your heart had broken the next night when you found her curled up on the street, hugging herself for warmth. You hid her money, moved the alcohol out of sight. Men would take advantage of anything that moved. You protected her before you knew who she was.

Then the rumors spread. She was hunting you? Your ego swelled, but she didn’t try as hard as the others. Not like the men who occasionally came after you, men you easily dispatched. But Ellie gave you something no man ever could: fear. And it was delicious, as satisfying as any blood.

If she ever killed you, it would be worth it—to die in her arms. A woman would claim her place without her own death involved. You had nothing to lose, but why make it easy? You weren’t used to pain—not like this.

Once, you had loved.

Now she rests somewhere in this town.

You’ve never dared to go near her grave. It would be disrespectful. She was the one victim who didn’t die by your choice but by mistake, by love. It was dangerous, and it was the only time you ever felt regret, any real pain. You can still feel the scratches she left on your skin, the way she held onto you, hoping to be saved—but you didn’t.

She’s merciless. She doesn’t just kill—killing is too simple, too vague, reserved for those who want it quick and clean. Williams shares that distinction with you: she murders. She takes her time, studies her prey, follows silently in the shadows. When she strikes, it’s deliberate, calculated, and brutal. There’s no safety, no mercy in her actions. She makes sure her victims feel it—the pain, the horror. You can hear the screams, the desperate pleas for life, and you can feel the warmth of their blood soaking into your hands. Their eyes, wide with terror, stay with you long after it’s done.

It’s almost admirable, really, to witness a human capable of such atrocities. What money can drive someone to do, you suppose.

Williams is staying in a small, rundown house. A family lives there—large and struggling. The man of the house is gentle, more so than the rest. Williams got lucky with her choice of refuge, but they barely have enough to feed themselves. Children seem to appear with every turn of the seasons, as if the universe—or God—was intent on making life harder for them. A cruel kind of providence, giving just enough for survival, but never enough for comfort.

Ellie wakes up most days around four in the morning, haunted by nightmares. If she’s too drunk or lucky, they’ll wake her at two instead. She drifts back to sleep when her body allows it. On those rare mornings she wakes feeling halfway rested, she showers, though only every other day. She pulls on her boots, layers herself in worn clothes, and hides beneath the massive hood of her coat. The children have seen her a few times, though they keep their distance. Once, the youngest girl, barely old enough to walk, approached her and offered a small cup of milk. It wasn’t much, and it certainly wasn’t good, but Ellie accepted it anyway.

She starves herself as long as she can, holding off the hunger until it gnaws at her insides. That’s when she heads to the woods, and that’s where you’ve seen it—the way she hunts. Whatever animal she can catch, she grips it with ruthless force. Her once-gentle hands turn harsh, unyielding as the creatures scream in terror. They hiss and writhe, but she doesn’t care. She silences them swiftly, consumes whatever she can, and moves on.

For her, there’s no room for sympathy, no room for mercy—only survival. And somehow, that made you feel a strange compassion for her. Even when her touch was harsh and painful, when she haunted you with the sole purpose of owning, hurting, and killing you. Her steps sent fear racing through your veins, her hands struck your skin with cruelty, and her bullet tore into you, leaving you weaker each time. Her belongings, her weapons—they were all designed to burn you alive, to inflict endless pain. Even with every bloody, messy encounter, every vicious fight, where her blade threatened to pierce your skin, and her gun was always aimed at you, it was impossible not to admire her.

She never stops until she has you. She wants you just as much as you want her. It's a twisted obsession, mutual and consuming. Your hisses send shivers down her spine, her bites stir a hunger in you, not for flesh, but for something deeper. You can hear her heartbeat as if it were your own, the steady thud of her boots on wet ground, her breath catching when she knows she's close. You notice how her sweat gleams on her skin, how the freckles on her face fade beneath the flush of red that colors her cheeks after every fight or a night spent at the bar.

And Ellie? She loves everything you give her, even when she's the one taking, using you as her excuse. She loves the thrill of being caught in your grasp, the scratch of your nails on her skin, a reminder that she's alive and has something left to fight for. She loves the drunken moments when she sees you, even if she's too intoxicated to act, when she watches you from afar, helpless as you disappear before her eyes. She loves the chase, the dirt, the failed attempts to capture you. She loves that you fight back. She loves that it never ends.

The forest was a living maze, dense and impenetrable, devouring every sound. The air felt heavy, suffocating beneath the thick canopy, where the moonlight barely dared to enter, casting only faint ribbons of silver along the narrow path. Ellie had been tracking you for days, her desperation mounting with each passing hour. This was her last chance. Your fangs were buried in the tender flesh of what had once been a small bird, no more than a brief indulgence, a fleeting snack before the real prize.

You sensed her before you saw her—her presence was a ripple through the stillness. The faint echo of her boots seemed closer than they were, her breath uneven, laced with quiet mutterings as she spoke to herself. The scent hit you next: human blood, sharp with adrenaline, soaked in determination. She was close.

From the high branches, hidden in shadow, you watched her with quiet amusement. She moved with careful precision, every step calculated. The bow slung over her shoulder bounced lightly with her movement, and at her side, a switchblade caught a gleam of moonlight. Tonight, she wasn’t just hunting—she intended to finish it. The way she carried herself told you everything. She needed to end this. She needed to end you.

But you were ready for her. If all went as planned, you would make her task far easier. If it failed, she would get what she had been hunting for so long—her victory, and you. But if it went as you had envisioned—no more than a hasty thought formed when you first saw her step into the woods—you would claim what you desired most. You would give her a reward, one that would last forever.

With deliberate slowness, you brought your fingers to your lips, wiping the blood with your thumb, though it did little to clean the stain. You took your time, running your tongue over your sharp fangs, savoring the last traces of blood. The small body of the bird lay beside you, its once-beautiful brown feathers now scattered, broken by your touch.

A crack in the distance shattered the stillness, and before your mind could react, your body moved instinctively. There she was, as you had expected—clad in that familiar black coat, boots sinking into the soft earth, and her white blouse, filthy and torn, revealing the delicate lines of her clavicle beneath the grime. Her hair was a mess, pulled into a careless bun, stray strands framing her face, damp with sweat. She was armed—too armed, really, for the task. The blade at her side would have been enough, or so she had assured the man whose house she’d passed through. The arrows, the extra gear—they were to frighten the "creature," to keep herself from being caught off guard.

But now, you were closing in, slipping through the trees and onto the soft grass, your movements silent. She was right there—just within reach, waiting for you.

William's breathing was steady but strained, her focus on you- yet elsewhere as she moved cautiously along the narrow path, her back exposed—vulnerable. Her grip tightened around her blade, her steps slow and deliberate, but she hadn’t noticed you yet. Not yet. Her eyes swore to see you, hear you, but it was just the leafs and the hunger for you, she needed to catch you this night. The moon was bright enough to lighten the path and the ambience was quiet enough to hear and distinct any atrocity, any anomaly- you.

Pale skin beung hit by the breeze while it guided you through the underbrush like a shadow, silent, swift, steps and tones attuned to the rhythm of the forest. The woman's heartbeat was loud in your ears, a steady thrum that guided your every step. Her scent guiding you. You could practically taste it.

It was moved silently- your body through the brush, the pads of your feet barely disturbing the soft beneath you.

Her silhouette was clear now—taut muscles beneath her worn clothes, hair falling loose from the messy bun at her neck. You could see her weapon at the ready, but her pulse was vulnerable, beating steadily just beneath the surface. It betrayed her how calm yet unsteady she was. When she'd attack her grip would be stiff- not now.

The feet of your own guided you to pray from behind, not even the rustle of leaves betraying your presence. The hunger thrummed in your veins, not just for her blood but for the chase, the fight. Feel her teeth sink into your skin, her nails digging and her blade itching. Hear her scream and groan- Your hand reached out, fingers barely brushing the fabric of her coat.

In an instant, you were upon her. One hand clamped over her mouth to stifle any cry- quickly bitten as you'd prevented. the other gripping her wrist, forcing the blade from her fingers. Her body tensed immediately, muscles coiling as she struggled against you, twisting with a ferocity you admired.

She wrenched her head to the side, managing to break free from your grip, her body spinning around in a blur of movement. Her eyes locked onto yours, shining and with a dark undertone, wide and wild with adrenaline, her chest heaving as she swung her fist. You dodged her aggressive.

Her lips a cacophony of atrocities and profanity against you while her body hit yours and fought to free from your grip- which left bruises with its every touch.

“Stop following me ,” you hissed, voice low and breathless. Without missing a beat, she reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh, her eyes a determination instance- a mirror of your soon death. You barely had time to react as she lunged at you, the blade aimed at your chest.

And it digged, not enough to pierce but to harm, to make a hole in your clothes and taint them with a beautiful red- unhunmman- unlike any blood Ellie had ever seen. Your skin, as tender and soft as it tasted, it was harsh and strong, and along your force impossible to fight, to kill.

You sidestepped her attack, but the edge of the blade now nicked your arm, then to your face. It made you hate her for an instance. A thin line of blood runing on your skin. The pain was sharp, it burned. Your mouth opened wider than any human could. fangs peeking through as if about to spit the venom to her eyes, you hissed- a cry of pain that hurt her ears and left her blind.

The tip of your nails caressed her freckled skin, covered by the black of her clothes which got ripped with the force with with you caught her and slamed her against the nearest tree, her strength no longer serving her to protect herself. The switch of her blade hurting so much and so deep it made you feel blind and feasty. You almost let go.

The impact rattled through her, but she didn’t falter. She moved with deadly precision, slashing at you with the knife, each strike faster than the last. All on your thighs who seemed to be unpierfecul.

Your fangs slipped through your massive wide mouth, your slick tongue sticking out. It was long and burning. You gave a taste to her neck before digging your fangs into her neck.

The grip with with you held her and trapped her became so sofocating, so allurong she dropped the blade. As if a twosted venom had run through her veins and made her weak.

It clattered to the ground between you, forgotten as your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back just enough to expose her throat. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, everything slowed—the pounding of her pulse, the warmth radiating from her skin, the fear that flickered in her eyes despite her resolve.

She bucked beneath you, every muscle in her body straining to fight, but you held firm, your gaze fixed on hers, your breath mingling with hers. Her chest heaved beneath you, her eyes blazing with fury.

She bared her teeth, straining against your hold, she growled, holding on her pain.

"Not fighting back?" you mocked her, a tone grotesque and meant to dizzy her even more. You felt the warmth runing down your cheeks, down your arm and legs, everywhere where her blade had cut, where the dagger had attempt to pierce. As it was minimum scratches, the blood seemed endless in your body, a perfect contrast with the tone of your skin.

You were fierce, more than you'd like it to be. But she wouldn't stay still, her fingers holding onto you to push you away, her feet fighting as you choked her more and more. as your fangs sucked deeper into her skin, opening her skin, leaving her weak and dizzy. "Fucking bitch-" she hissed in pain, her nails digging into the skin of your arms, attempting to push you. Fingers then tangling into your hair, pushing you back with fierce. "You're no better than a man, I see" your fangs pierced your bottom lips, your mouth not drenched with her blood as your eyes grew darker, a weird pupil and red on them. You looked insane, a look that caused her discomfort.

But you didn't care, your hair getting caught on her fingers as she insisted on gripping and you insisted on piercing her skin and sucking her life.

For a moment, you admired her resolve. Her heartbeat hammered in your ears, her skin warm beneath your touch. You loosened your grip just slightly, giving her a chance to fight back, to keep the dance going. But she was too weak for that, too afraid to fight back for the first time in her life.

“Go on,” she struggled to speak, daring. “Finish it.” Ellie’s breath hitched, her eyes locked on yours. Despite the fight, despite the blood and the bruises, there was something else in her gaze—something raw and unspoken. The tension between you was thick, almost suffocating.

“Do it,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, daring you.

But you didn’t. Not yet.

"I thought you wanted me" the words echoed against her skin. Your nails now going down on her skin, riping her coat open. Your other hand trapping her neck against the tree. She knew better at this point, if she attempted to move it'll be suicide.

"You dreamed of me, didn't you..." Your voice was strangely comforting, too quiet for her own good. Williams felt like she'd already died. "Don't you wanna-" her breath chocked at your grip and her sudden movement "rest for once- be with her?" Her laugh was mocking, painful. It changed something withing you, and anger you haven't felt in years. "And you, Williams? don't you want to see him?" but you knew how to attack as well.

It was a matter of threatening some people, the vulnerable drink women who've been with Ellie in late nighrs at the bars- A drunk woman who had nothing to loose but all to win was more vulnerable than else. And she herself had allowed a see through of her brain to you, with that obsession she craved to much. All these years alive haven't been in vane, you knew better.

Her face dropped in disgust, a madness that was uncomfortable to see. Scrunched nose, pouty lips, freckles cheeks covered now in sweat, her pupils dilatation and he rfacr showing all the pain now turned into mad.

"Let me do you the favor..." you whispered with that same soothing tone, your nails piercing on her neck. Now dripped with the blood you've sucked out of her and the holes you were digging. "Please?" you leaned closer, pressing a hovering kiss over her lips.

She cried- Ellie Williams cried. The salty of it almost burning the skin of your fingers wrapped around her suffocated neck.

“Look at you,” you whispered, your voice soft, an intimate taunt as you admired the fragile beauty of her surrender, her pulse fluttering like a moth beneath your touch. And as her strength ebbed, her gaze held yours, already resigned.

"Tell me you don't want me, and I'll let go..." Your murmur made her groan. Ellie had betrayed herself and others- she was far too gone to deny herself one last chance, one opportunity to do it all again.

You pressed burning kisses on her throat, quickening to collect her blood and taste the salty of her skin. Her uncovered clavicle gentle beneath your touch. The tip of your fingers held the dagger on your hands, feeling them burn in a blinding pain. Your eyes met hers, barely making it to move. The dirt painted your knees and the fabric of your clothing.

Ellie- catching her breath and her struggling to keep herself standing, either her blurred teary eyes, met your gaze. Her eyebrows furrowing in pain.

She watched the small smoke of your skin at the touch of the dagger, your hisses of pain- It didn't elict the pleasure she dreamed of. Her breath was ragid and unsteady, horrified by the sight on instance.

She took the blade withing her fingers, showing the sharpness to you. Her body felt on the floor. next to you- and your eyes followed.

The tip of it digged into your neck. Your eyes teary with a pain no human could endurance. Her eyes showed so much hate, and you would've loved if she killed you. You'd loved to be hers, for her to have and admire each day, for her to be happy for once and all.

"Let go" she saved her blade on her back pocket, taking the dagger off of your hands. You hissed in pain- relieved. "Take me." Her words felt like the warmth you've been craving on for years and years, billions of them. It was cruel really, but you craved it. You've missed her, the woman you once loved- and this was as if the universe had heard your prayers. She was back again, for the story to repeat itself.

And it turned something in you, whose eyes turned into beast-like. Your fangs guided you close to her. "Why won't you just kill me, Williams?" your nails cupped on her skin gently. "End this... take what you want."

"I'm offering you the same thing" your jaw clenched, heartbeat unsteady for a small second- not supposed to happen. "We'll still die anyway." you scoffed at her words, taking her body with gentleness.

Your lips were cold against hers, as if sucking on her life through the kiss. Her hands were quick to get rid of the thin fabric covering your body.

Her body stood up gently, cupping your face with her hands. Your movements were harsh and sloppy, hungry.

What you've craved for ages was In front of you, to take for once. And you didn't hesitate on doing so.

Your tongue lapping at her pussy with no doubt, looking at her pretty face. Ellie gasped, holding the sides of your head as she looked down on you, as if guiding you with the eyes. As much as you craved to kill each other and own the other, the connection you shared was almost tangible. An undeniable aura bigger than any love a human could ever experience.

The blood of your hands drenched on her white blouse, undoing the messy tangling of it with your nails. The revelation was so pure, so tender. Her hardened nipples properly displayed for you to touch.

The palm of your hand rested between her breats, feasting on her pussy with eyes closed, admiring each beat of her heart. You could sense every gasp, every breath, every unsteady inch of her skin as if it was yours.

A whine escaped your lips, thrusting your tongue into her tongue, savoring the wet of her pussy. Your fingers gently cupping her tits, making small circles over her nipples with your thumbs. Then moving them down the sides of her pretty stomach, sensing every inch of skin, scratching every scar on her stomach, drenching it with her own blood.

spit pooled down her folds, your fingers massaging the sides of her thighs, behind her to cup at her ass and then to her inner thighs, scratching at the skin there to then play with the sides of her pussy to keep the pleasure intact while your lips got occupied with her inner thighs.

Your lips kissed over her clit. Her stomach tensing at the sensation, so sensitive it almost hurt. the small kisses around her folds slowly growing into a gentle sucking.

at each lick and kiss on her pussy, her hips would buck into your face and her fingers would tangle harsher onto your soft hair, almost scratching at your scalp. She was whining, it was quiet but oh so pretty.

You shoved your face deeper, teasing her drenching hole with your middle finger, almost scissoring her folds while your tongue sucked on her puffy clit. One of her hands came to cup at her own nipples, almost crying to feel more.

her eyes struggled to look back at you. A puppy-like look on her face: gentle furrowed eyebrows, freckles covered in a brush of red. she looked so pretty like this.

Within each thrust of your fingers inside her, bubbly words would gently hit into your ears while abusing- teasing her creamy hole. She tasted sour, a good mix between sweet and salty, nothing you haven't fantasized with.

Your tongue savours every inch of her. Licking, sucking, kissing her arousal. Teasing it with her fingers and tongue. Your fingers curl inside her so perfectly, and she clenches around you. Her lips let out quiet hiccups and blabers, all small pleads and promises. Ellie is already yours.

Her name falls from your lips as quiet prayers. Over and over again. Her arousal grows to fill your mouth deliciously. Too overwhelmed by her pretty voice, her hands on your hair, her hips looking for more, thighs chocking you- your whines overlap into a sloppy wet rhythm. Her bodh searched for more friction, pulling you closer into her Pussy, rubbing herself desperately while your tongue sloppily licks over her cunt.

Your fingers get sucked in by her sliky hole. faster and faster until you can feel it as if your own- you taste it right after.

She's yours, forever to take and you're hers forever to own.

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catherinnn · 8 months ago

Note

I thought of this at work today and I couldn't stop laughing: Imagine Dustin having an older sister who's back from college. So when they need a sub for Hellfire, he asks her because she's the one that taught him how to play in the first place. As soon as she walks in Eddie's brain short-circuits because "Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl?!?!? I would've at least brushed my hair!"

Que Dustin not sure whether he should be disgusted because his sister keeps flirting with his DM all night or excited because there is now a very strong possibility Eddie could become his brother-in-law now.

Roll for Initiative eddie munson x henderson!reader warnings: nothing much really, just fluff overall. eddie self-doubts for just a second, no use of y/n, cursing. a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I really hope you like it. reblogs and comments are very very appreciated. 2.2k words masterlist

“So,” Mike starts talking, Dustin takes notice of his sarcastic tone. “Who the fuck do we know that secretly plays D&D and would want to sub for Lucas”

“Um, well…” but before Dustin can get a word out Mike interrupts him.

“I mean, we’re fucked! Eddie’s gonna hate us and kick us out of Hellfire!”

“Dude-“

“No Dustin, I’m serious! I’m gonna kill Lucas and all his stupid new friends”

“Mike! Do you remember what I told you earlier? About my sister?”

“Uh… no?” he confesses.

“Honestly! Do you ever listen to me?!” Dustin claims angrily. “What I told you is that she’s coming back home. And she used to play, dude!”

“Are you serious?” Mike exclaims, unable to believe their luck. He asks “When does she get here?”

Dustin's heart pounds with anticipation as he waits at the doorstep. It had been months since he last saw you, and he couldn't wait to catch up.

And as your mom’s car pulls into the driveway, Dustin cannot contain his excitement. He rushes to greet you, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You step out of the car, a weary smile on your face as you spot your little brother.

"Dustin!" you exclaim, opening your arms for a hug. "You've gotten even taller since I last saw you."

“You think so?” he asks with hope.

“Oh right? He’s turning into a whole handsome tall man already!” your mom butted into the conversation and you both cringe at her choice of words.

“Ugh, I missed you!” you hug him again and he laughs.

Once you’re inside the house, Dustin wastes no time in bombarding you with stories of his D&D campaigns. He told you about the epic battles and the incredible DM the club has. You make a mental note to tease Steve as soon as you see him since he’s no longer Dustin’s coolest older friend.

“That club sounds so fun!”

"Do you think... would you want to join our club as a sub?" he asks eagerly. "We're short one person since Lucas joined the dark side”

You frown in confusion and he explains. “He’s in the football team”

“Really?” you ask surprised.

“Yeah…” he sounds disappointed. “Anyway, would you help us? Please”

“You’re sure they won’t mind?”

“They would be so thankful if you help us beat Eddie’s ass”

“Okay, sure then” you agree laughing.

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” Dustin shouts from the living room waiting impatiently for you.

“I’ve been ready for like ten minutes, you’re the one who’s taking so long” you answer calmly, not knowing what all the fuss is about.

Meanwhile in the drama room in Hawking’s High…

“Alright gentlemen, are we ready to start?” Eddie says as he walks in.

“Umm no, Dustin’s not here yet” Mike stops him.

“Well, where is he?”

“He’s probably arriving any time now”

“Wheeler, we don’t have all day-“ Eddie starts complaining but the door opening abruptly interrupts him. An agitated Dustin walks in and starts apologizing, but Eddie’s not listening to him.

The club leader still frozen mid-sentence, his brain seemingly short-circuiting as he laid eyes on you, standing by the door. He stumbled over his words, his thoughts are silent but screaming at the same time. Suddenly, the room seemed smaller, the air thicker, as if a spell had been cast upon him.

However, you’re still oblivious to the effect you had over him.

“Soo, who’s this?” Gareth finally asks after waiting for Eddie to ask that question, but he was not even moving.

“Oh, this is my sister” Dustin starts introducing you. Eddie’s trance is broken when he hears your name, the prettiest name he’s ever heard. “She’ll sub for Lucas”

“She will?” Eddie asks with a hint of hope in his voice. All of the sudden hoping Lucas won’t be able to join Hellfire ever again.

The rest of the boys are waiting expectantly for Eddie to ask you all types of question until he finds an unsatisfying enough answer and he’ll decide you can’t sub. But he never does. So Gareth starts asking if you even know how to play D&D.

“Sure she does, she was the one who taught me how to play in the first place” your brother steps in.

You tell the boys your level in the game and for some reason they all seem surprised. They start murmuring among each other. But you notice how the boy on the big throne leans over to your brother to whisper something. You play dumb and walk closer to them.

"Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl? I would've at least brushed my hair!" He whispers-shouts and a smile starts forming on your face.

You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t called your attention. His big puppy eyes, all the rings on his hand. You don’t know why he says that about his hair, you thought it looked really good like that.

At any rate, you take a seat next to your brother, which just so happens to also be next to Eddie. Happy coincidence. And you start playing, Eddie sets the scene. He makes you imagine every single little detail so you feel like you’re actually there. He makes different voices for each character which makes you giggle. He even stands up, or leans over on the table, he talks to every single one of you, not forgetting about anyone. It’s mesmerizing to see him like this.

“I love how passionate you get” you comment and it makes him smile so hard.

He noticed before, every time he would change the tone in his voice to imitate a character, you’d laugh, and now he keeps changing voices just to hear it again.

“Give me the gold! He says. Or I’ll set my hungry wolves free, right this second!” Eddie acts and without failing he’s able to hear your snorts. It distracts him in the best way possible. “You have an adorable laugh” he tells you with a smirk.

This obviously makes you giggle once more, this time with a pink blush decorating your cheeks. “Thanks, it’s just- you’re cute making all the voices”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush and smile once more.

Dustin notices this exchange —all of the other boys did— but he can’t decipher how he feels about it. On the one hand, he feels a little jealous and uncomfortable that you two keep flirting. But on the other hand, it would be really cool to have Eddie as his brother in law.

However, the game continues and so does the places Eddie takes you all to in your minds. So much so that at one point you start getting dizzy.

“Wait, where are we again?” you ask.

“In the mountains near the lake” Gareth answers.

“Are we close to the palace?”

“No no, the palace is behind the woods” Mike explains now. They have more of an advantage than you do, they've been playing this campaign for weeks now.

“Wh- Do you have a map?” You finally ask Eddie and he nods passing it to you.

“Here’s the palace” he comes closer and signals on the map, “and here is where you are”

“Oh, okay”

“You know, if you’re still lost I can stick around to guide you” he whispers giving the closeness.

“Well, you’re the bad guy here,” you argue imagining you’re still inside the game. “How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”

“Me?” he gasps acting offended. “I would never!”

“You already killed Jeff!” you accuse him.

“Yeah, but he’s not half as pretty as you are. I’d miss you too much” he makes sure he’s whispering very close to you now, just because if Jeff heard him he’d start acting offended. Just because of that… no other reason.

“Can we keep playing now? My mom will be here in like ten minutes to pick me up” Mike complains.

Those ten minutes fly by. Before you even realize it, Mike’s mom is honking in her car to hurry him up. And so you finish for the day, starting to gather all your things.

“You know, you owe me a pencil” you tell Eddie.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” he asks playfully.

“I only borrowed it to you! I did not gift it!”

“So you’re calling me a thief? First a killer and now a thief? Glad to know you think so badly of little old me”

“I didn't just called you that!” you say in you defence and he makes confused face, signalling you to continue talking. “I also said you’re cute. You’re a really cute thief and killer”

He starts laughing. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when I'm around?"

“I could ask you the same thing”

“Oh only with you, sweetheart” he promises.

“Me too” you admit a little shyly.

“Yeah?-” he tries to keep flirting but Dustin cuts him off.

“Are you ready? Let’s go”

“Wow, since when are you so eager to leave hellfire?” Eddie notices.

“No reason” he lies, he’s still not sure if all this flirting between you two would be something good or not.

“I think he’s a little jealous his sister is taking all of Eddie’s attention” Gareth teases him.

“No, I’m not!”

“Aw Dusty bun!” Eddie joins in the teasing.

“I’m not jealous! Ask her out for all I care!” he says but regrets it as soon as it left his mouth.

“Really?” Eddie checks in but Dustin is a very proud person, he’s not one to bend. So he nods encouraging his friend.

Good thing you know him like the palm of your hand.

“Let’s go dingus, mom’s probably waiting for us”

Eddie feels this as punch right on his chest. Did he read too much into this? Were you not actually interested? Was it just some playful flirting?

As you walk out the school and into the parking lot. You open the car so your brother can get in but tell him to wait a second, and you walk over to Eddie who was about to get in his van.

“Wait! Thief!” you call him and he turns around. “I think you should, you know… ask me out”

He feels the happiness creeping back into his body. “Yeah? I should?” his playful tone back in his voice. “Would you want to go out with a thief and a murderer?”

“If he’s as cute as you are, then I’d think about it” you make him laugh again.

“How about tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at eight” he proposes.

“I’ll be ready”

“Good”

“Yeah, good” you walk closer to him. “See you tomorrow then” and before leaving, you give him a kiss on his cheek. Hiding your need to kiss him more after seeing his flushed face. You’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow.

Dustin sees you getting in the car with the biggest smile on your face. “Did you ask him out?”

“Um, yeah… listen-“

“It’s fine, really”

“No, listen. I know that maybe it’s a little uncomfortable to think of one of your best friends going out with me. But I promise I would never do anything to hurt him and make it weird between you two-“

“I know that, and I know he wouldn’t do that either” he interrupts you. “I’m just- I’m worried that I won’t be a priority to you or to him anymore”

“Dustin, are you kidding? You could not be more wrong about that!” you argue. “Imagine this date goes well, we’ll start hanging out at home and watch movies with you, we could go out to eat all together, go to the cinema, anything! You name it!”

And the more he thinks about it that way, the more he loves that idea.

So the next day, he helps you choose your outfit, he tells you which hairstyle will look better and then hurries you up when it’s 7:50 pm and you’re still putting mascara on.

“You look fine already! Amazing even! Grab your jacket cause he’ll be here any minute now!” and as soon as he says that, he recognizes that car outside with the loud metal music, seconds later he hears the door knocking.

“I’ll get it, mom!” he yells so his mother won’t embarrass you.

“No, you won’t. I will” you stop him before he can open the door. “Go back to your comic-book. I’ll be back in a few hours”

And he waits until you get back.

When you finally do, he’s on the couch watching TV but mutes it as soon as he hears you.

“Hey” he notices the big smile on your face is on again. He also notices your lips are a little puffy and he cringes at that thought.

“You can go to sleep happily now, the date went amazing” you explain. “God, I think I’m love with him!” you comment as you go up to your room.

“Already?” he judges a little.

But as you promised, the three of you hang out together most of the time. And as long as he looks away when you two kiss or ignores the fact that Eddie’s spending the night in your room after you all catch a movie and order some pizza. He’s really happy that you two found each other.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x henderson!reader

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4rticbolt · 1 month ago

Text

The Menacing Bra |Master-list|

Fluff, kissy-kissy, crack, cringe and cliche?? Longish-drabble

You and the cook have a moment, and he actually grew a pair to make a move

……………….

Laundry day.

Oh boy, what joy, the repetitive chore that tested your limits. Chipping away your mental capacity and motivation to do absolutely anything.

You’d spent hours on end scrubbing and rinsing the clothes, only to wear again, ferevently repeating the cycle.

You cursed, pinching a clip to your nose. You’d always wished there was some cheat sheet, some easy way out, other than free labor from the boys.

Especially when you’d gotten stuck with Nami and Robin’s clothes too. You’d kindly asked, seeing their closets were getting low, and they’d never decline an offer like that.

Because, honestly, who would? Washing clothes by hand was time consuming, and neither you nor the women had the patience for it.

Sure, you might be throwing yourself under the bus here, but you cannot for the life of you throw fucking soap and bubbles for an hour.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you scrubbed and submerged the materials, hoping you could get done with this before lunch was done.

Which, the odds were in your favor, as you hadn’t procrastinated as much as you normally did. Meaning you’d started early on it, and there was nice weather! Though, that luck didn’t last long as a distant crash emitted from downstairs.

“Spoke too soon,” you muttered, hearing a distant laugh and girlish scream follow after one another. A familiar shout rang after and a chaotic catchy cackle echoed.

You didn’t even want to think what the cook was dealing with now.

However, speaking of the boys if you even had to touch their laundry you’d pass away. That was an actual health hazard, and even thinking about it made your skin crawl.

You shuddered, shaking your head as a shiver ran through your spine, causing some bubbles to fly.

Ew. Just imagining the men’s laundry was a shit show. Maybe not Sanji’s, he actually cared about his hygiene. Regardless, it was still gross

Without even realizing, your thoughts filtered back to the cook who’d still been hollering in the kitchen. Consequently reprimanding the idiots for whatever crime they outdrew.

Though, the thought of his agitated face made you smile.

The way his brows creased into a frown, and the way his jaw would have clenched- sharpening his chin.

You silently cursed as your mind wandered further, leaving the rest of you to the mercy of your imagination.

Ok, sure, maybe you had fallen for the hopeless romantic- but how could you not?!

He’d always showered you in devoted affection—heartfelt compliments, and any craving you could think of. You saw him as the perfect package.

At-least in your eyes.

Maybe a little perverted in the terms of others, but that was just his charm, or so you’d convinced yourself. You’d never had an issue with him, he didn’t really lust after you— or anyone else for that matter.

Not that you knew of, which made it easy to brush off.

Ok, sure- maybe an unhinged comment every now and then, but it could be a lot worse.

Deep down, his selfless acts and perverted thoughts felt more like a puppy love than anything. Appreciation, admiration, and his firm morals… sounded oddly refreshing.

…

Though, speaking of that said appreciation, you were almost done with this stupid laundry- just had to hang your bra. The deck was quieting, meaning lunch was ready. So, as quickly as you could, you stepped onto the railing, reaching the height needed where you could hang the garment.

Ignoring the warm breeze that rushed past, you hopped down to deal with the soapy water, dumping it overboard.

“____! My love! Lunch is done,” Sanji beamed, his voice glowing with excited as he rounded the corner.

“Yeah, just a sec!” You replied, shaking the tub over the railing to rid it of any suds.

Turning back, you weren’t met with the face of the cook, but a wet towel flying towards you, followed by a sharp gust of air.

“Shit-“ Thwack

“Damn wind! You alright?” Sanji’s voice reached you, muffled over the violent winds. The pressure was immeasurable as it howled over the ship, shoving you against its side with blunt force.

You managed to holler back, but the towel had still blocked your vision, making it hard to see. When the wind finally died down, the sopping towel fell dramatically from your shirt, leaving an imprint far beyond its original color.

“Ugh, what the hell? A storm’s gotta be coming through, but Nami didn’t mentioned anything though,” you spoke, looking up to the cook but you froze, seeing the sight in-front of you

No.

Actually die.

He’s dead, you killed the man- or well, the that bra that covered his face did. He was as red as a tomato, frozen in place. You almost laughed at the sight- if you weren’t embarrassed out of your mind.

Your hands slowly came out infront of you, hesitating at what to do with yourself. And the situation.

“Uh, Sanji?”

“S-so soft..” he whispered, before you watched him plummet to the floor.

There he goes…

You let out a long sigh, kneeling beside his waist as you watched him pathetically bleed from his nose. He twitched, looking like a cockroach you’d just squashed, possessed by something beyond reason. If not already, he was clearly as down bad for you as you thought.

Tossing aside the bra, your hands hovered above his face for a moment, before you gently patted his cheek, hoping to snap him out of it.

“Hey, helloooo earth to sanji?” You sang, growing more worried as the seconds stretched painfully on.

Sure he had nose bleeds, but never this bad, not to mention he was out like a light.

“Hey!” You’d snapped, unable to wait any longer, as you’d slapped his face a little harder, watching as his eyes fluttered open into hearts.

“Yes, darling,” he stuttered, quickly dabbing a hanker chief to his face. Sanji felt as though he’d been flown through heaven itself, in the cusp of a bra.

“Are you okay?”

“Haha..yes, lovely,” he said dreamily looking up at you as if you were an angel.

You could only grumble at the sight, with the way his eyes shined up at you, melting your heart. You tried to fight it, but your eyes eventually mirrored the same, softly watching him. Without the hearts

In the blink of an eye, Sanji was up, offering you a hand as he sent you charming smile, as he looked down to you.

“Are you sure?” You hummed, taking his hand.

“You’re offly pink.”

“Only for you my Angel.” He spoke with zero hesitation, loving the way your eyes rolled and your face flushed. Feeling a bit warm, you decided to step back, and he suddenly pulled you closer.

He could tell you were nervous, and once again loved it. He loved everything about you- how your heart raced, how your breath quickened- and he could go for hours naming every reason. Then, bringing his hand to your waist, he drew you even closer, leaning into you.

“____? Is it too much?”

Absolutely.

No. Not even in the slightest.

You repeated to yourself, but no words came out of your mouth, not even a response, as you were far too stunned. Unable to control the thumping in your chest, you watched as a soft smirk tugged at his lips.

“Haha… I’m joking, easy,” he mused, reaching a hand to very gently push the hair out of your eyes.

For a moment, he locked your gaze.

If felt as if he’d been holding your heart, squeezing it softly as he leaned in.

Sanji shamelessly moved his hand from your waist to the nape of your neck, pulling you in, and you could feel the heat rise between you as he watched your lips like honey to a bee.

The cook thought you looked far too sweet not to be held, not to be touched—and he couldn’t even comprehend how’d you taste. He was far too eager to wait.

His lips longingly met yours, and you matched his intensity, sliding your hands from his chest to his neck, pulling your waist against his.

Sanji groaned, his legs almost buckling at the touch, and he needily slipped his tongue to meet yours. The kiss was feverish, a first-time rush, but deep.

A door behind you suddenly opened and a hangry, impatient captain ruined your moment.

“Sanji! Can we eat now?!” A gummy Captain huffed, far outstretching the scene. “Hey what are you-“

You and Sanji frantically pulled away, letting out a stifled cough you walked past the boy.

“We’re done! He just came to tell me lunch was done! All is well, all is just fine!” You cheeped, fleeing the scene, as you were bright red once again. Awkwardly leaving a very hungry Luffy, and a now seething Sanji behind.

“Huh? What’s her deal-.”

“Did you have to ruin that?!” He snapped, grabbing and shaking the gummy dolt. He didn’t even bother to hide the blush on his face.

“You idiot! Could you not see I was having a moment! I’ve waited forever for this- and you just had to plow through and ruin it!”

“Wh-at moment! And what d-o you me-an ruin it! I just sa-id I was hun-gry!” his rubber head flopped back n’ forth, as he tried- but ultimately failed avoiding the cook’s wrath.

Yeah, sure, Luffy might’ve been hungry, but so was he. Practically starving.

………………………………

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #onepiece masterlist #one piece x y/n #i am cringe but i am free #fluff #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji

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cybersvoid · 26 days ago

Text

❥ Big Bad Wolf ii

──⇌••⇋──

♡ Pairings: Dabi x Reader

Summary: Little Red Riding Hood AU. You just wanted to deliver a basket of goodies to your grandma’s house, but you end up getting mixed up with a wolf who wants more than just your basket.

Parts: i

ღ Warnings | 18+ NSFW, Yandere Themes, AU, Manipulation, Cursing, Virginity Loss, Dubcon, Breeding, Threats, Stalking, References to Last Chapters Smut, Etc.

Do not repost my work anywhere. If you see anyone reposting or copying my work please let me know. Thank you!

──⇌••⇋──

“Y/N?... Y/N?” You heard someone call out, waking you from your sleep… that voice… you knew that voice…

“Grandma?” You croaked out, forcing your eyes open.

“Yes, dear! What exactly are you doing out here? Did that mother of yours send you over?” She sighed, “That girl has always been a worrier... and why on God's green earth would you sleep on the porch swing? I’m sure the guest room is much comfier.”

Porch swing? You questioned, as you began regaining consciousness. You lifted your head to look around and saw that she was telling the truth. The pillow for the swing was tucked behind your head, while your red hood was draped over your body. Even your basket was here, pushed off beside you, but seemingly untouched.

“G-grandma, I-”

“Never mind then. I’m sure it was a long journey to make on your own” She dismissed with a wave of her hand, “Not to mention you always were absentminded. Even as a child. Now just forget it and hurry inside! Hasn’t your mother ever warned you that there are wolves about?”

Once inside you had immediately excused yourself to go shower, blaming your desperate need to wash on the long journey over, but truth be told you could still smell him on you. As roughly as you could manage, you washed over every inch of your body repeatedly. Desperately hoping that maybe some of the bruises would come off with your insistent scrubbing as well, but alas, as you looked yourself over in the bathroom mirror it was obvious you failed in that task.

If it wasn’t for the bite mark on your shoulder and the aches of your muscles, you would’ve been sure it was nothing more than a dream. Your head was a bit foggy and pieces of your memory from the night prior were missing more than likely due to the alcohol. You had never drank before and it had seemed to have a bigger effect than you would have thought.

You don’t remember much of how you got to your grandma's house, but you were positive that you somehow managed to walk yourself here after he had left you in the woods. Then, too tired to make it inside, you made yourself a bed on the old porch swing. After all, it doesn’t make sense that he would bring you here, he doesn’t even know where your grandma lives, and you definitely never mention it to him.

You wanted nothing more than to forget the entire encounter, but it was revealing itself to be next to impossible. You’re not sure what he did to you, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fully get him out of your head. His voice. His smirk. His touch. You wish the whole thing could be erased rather than just bits and pieces, but it felt as if you were under his spell.

“Y/N?” Your grandma called out, disrupting your thoughts, “When you’re done in there, I made breakfast for us.”

“Coming,” you shouted back in response, attempting to keep your voice as steady as possible so as not to worry her. How would you even begin to explain the situation you got yourself in? She would without a doubt tell your mother as well. Oh, you could only imagine the fate that would await you if your mother found out. You’d never be allowed to leave the house again, that much was guaranteed.

Quickly, you threw on one of your spare dresses you kept here for whenever you came to visit. You made sure to pick one that would cover enough skin to hide the markings underneath before rushing off toward the kitchen

“Grandma, I should be the one making you breakfast. You need to be in bed resting.”

“Oh hush dear, there’s plenty of time to rest today. You traveled all this way to deliver me some medicine and goodies, the least I can do is make you some breakfast in return.” She grinned, placing a bowl of porridge down in front of you at the table. “I know it’s not much, but I just haven’t been feeling well enough to go into the market. Regardless you should eat, I know you must be starved.”

You were. In fact, you don't think you realized just how hungry you were until the first bite of food hit your tongue. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped as you all but attacked the food in your bowl. Not even attempting to make small talk in the process of eating which your grandma took note of.

“My my, you were hungry. As good as a cook as I may be I don’t recall you loving my porridge quite this much.” She hummed, scooping up another helping into your bowl. Which you graciously accepted. “Now talk to me. You seem more distracted than usual. What’s on your mind, dear?”

“Nothing, grandma, nothing at all,” you lied, not looking up from your bowl.

“Ahh, nothing, is it? I think I know what has my sweet granddaughter distracted. In fact, it's been a long time coming. You’ve found yourself a boy!”

You dropped your spoon at the shock of her statement. The clattering sound echoing through the small room. “N-no, Grandma, that’s not-”

“Ohh hush now, you don’t have to worry. It’s perfectly natural for a girl your age to have these sorts of feelings.”

Your hand traced over your shoulder without thinking. Your fingers gently rubbing the spot above your shirt covering the bite mark that he had left behind. The wound was burning hot. A constant reminder of the so-called ‘boy’ your grandma was referring to, and what exactly he did to you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your mother about this boy plaguing your thoughts either. Lord knows that woman tends to overreact.” She pushed herself up off her chair, “Well, I reckon it’s time to take my medicine.” She excused herself from the table, pulling out a green vile from inside the basket you had brought over. How strange. You don’t recall your mother packing that, but she did pack a lot of random items, and you weren’t paying as much attention as you probably should have when she was going over everything.

“Okay, grandma. I’ll start cleaning up, and once I’m done, I’ll head into the market for you, so feel free to make me a list.”

“What would I ever do without you, dear?” She took a big swig from the vile, face contorting a bit as she went into a coughing fit. You ran over to her and began rubbing circles on her back to help soothe her, but she raised a hand shooing you away before quickly regaining her composure. “If you could get me some new cough medicine while you’re out I would appreciate that. I’m not sure where your mother got this, but I much prefer to be sick than having to take this again.”

After cleaning up your grandma had become quite exhausted, putting herself to bed as you finished up around her home. At first, you were nervous about going out to the market. Afraid that you might run into that wolf again. But you felt reassured when reminding yourself that he didn’t know where you were. You were safe here.

The walkover was a bit more difficult than normal. Your body was sore from the events of the night prior, and your knee was still tender from your tumble, so you were forced to take everything slower than you normally would. The sun was already setting by the time you were returning.

You hummed to yourself along the way back, holding onto the grocery bag of your grandma's requested items. Hoping that she was feeling much more rested upon your return. When you arrived at the front door, you noticed that it was a bit ajar, but you assumed your grandma had accidentally left it open after going outside while you were away. You shut the door behind you, turning around and coming face to face with the blue-eyed wolf from yesterday's nightmare.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed, trying to act braver than you currently felt. His familiar grin bringing a sinking feeling to your stomach. “Where’s my grandma?” You quickly dropped the bag of groceries on the floor as you ran in the direction of her room.

You barely made it more than a few feet when he had you wrapped in his arms. Your back was being held firmly against his chest, his height causing your legs to dangle helplessly above the ground as you frantically began squirming in an attempt to be released.

“Shh,” he hushed, his warm breath tickling your ear. A chill ran down your spine at the realization of your current predicament. “Now, now, bunny. Dear old grandma is sleeping, and we wouldn’t want to wake her now, would we? After all, sleeping spells ain’t cheap.”

“Sleeping spells?” You froze in place at his confession as your mind went back to the unfamiliar green bottle. “You put that bottle in the basket?”

He chuckled at your cluelessness. “Of course, I did. I would hate for us to be interrupted. I tend to have a bit of a short temper, and I would hate if Gram Gram had to pay the price for it. Wouldn’t you?”

You felt tears begin to well in your eyes at the mention of losing your grandma. “Please,” you whispered desperately, “Please don’t hurt her, I’ll be quiet.”

“Mmm, good bunny.” He praised, gently placing both of your feet on the ground and releasing you from his grip. You spun around and took a few steps back in order to put some distance between the two of you, which he found more amusing than anything. “Is this any way to act around your mate? There’s no reason to be scared.”

“Mate? I don’t know what that is.” You had no idea how he could expect you to act so casually after what he did to you. In your mind, you had every right to be scared. “Please, I have nothing for you. Can’t you just leave?”

He began stepping towards you. Slowly, but meticulously like a predator stalking its prey. You shadowed his movements. Taking one step back for every step forward.

“You’re wrong, you do have something I need.”

“Whatever it is, you can have it. Just take it!” You begged, your back now hitting a wall, as he took this opportunity to place his hands on either side of you—his tall form towering over your helpless one. This position was bringing back the memories of him on top of you from last night. That tickling feeling starting to creep its way back into the lower half of your body.

“Oh, I intended to.” He chuckled, blue eyes glimmering down at you, “You’re my mate. That means you were made for me. I could smell it on you from the first moment I saw you. I watched you from afar, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Until I couldn’t wait anymore.”

You felt the tension continue to grow in the room at his revelation. How long had he been watching you exactly?

“I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. I’m not your mate. I can’t be.”

“Oh? And why not?”

“Well, you’re a wolf and I’m a human, we can’t be together.”

“I see, so you didn’t feel anything the other night? The way you clawed at my back and moaned out my name. The way you withered under me, gripping me with all your strength as if you were begging me to cum inside you. Your body knew who I was even before you did. I bet you're even wet right now.”

“N-no. That's not true.” You fidgeted slightly under his string gaze, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to shield him from the truth of his words.

“You’re a shit liar, bunny. You know that bite mark on your shoulder isn’t just for show. It connects us. I can feel what you’re feeling, or what you’re desperately trying not to feel. You can try to lie to me all you want, but your body is calling for me. The only reason I’m not ripping your clothes off, and taking you on the floor now is because as much as you may want it, your body wouldn’t be able to handle another round. You humans are weak little things.” He cooed, gently stroking your face, causing you to flinch in response. He gripped your chin forcing you to look up at him, “Now, there’s no need for all of that. This is even harder for me you know, but I’ll make sure to satisfy your needs another day. However, in order for that to happen you need to come with me. I gave you one final day with your grandma, now it's time to come home.”

Why did you have a feeling that the ‘home’ he was referring to was not the home you knew and grew up in?

“I can’t go with you. I have a life here. I have a family here. My grandma, and my mother, they both need me.” You tried to reason, but it was all in vain. He wasn’t going to let up on this.

“Your grandma who lives miles and miles away from you rather than in the same town to ensure you can see her more often? Your mother, the same woman who keeps you locked away in that prison you call home. I doubt you’ve so much as stepped a single toe outside of that town other than when visiting your grandma. Am I wrong? Is this the family and the life that you're referring to?”

His vast knowledge of your life was frightening.

“Listen, I’m trying to play the nice wolf right now, but I’m going to explain this plain and simple. You are coming with me. Kick, scream, fight all you want, but you are coming with me. If this life is what’s keeping you from coming willingly, then I’ll rip it away from you. You won’t have a grandma. You won’t have a mother, All you’ll have is me. Is that what you want?”

You were frozen at his threat. Tears falling at the thought of him taking the only family you had. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you were the reason why he killed them, but you weren't sure if you could live with him either. He was a wolf. He was everything you were warned about. Cunning, strong, fast, and violent. Well known for being naturally vicious carnivores you knew this would be no empty threat. If you didn’t go with him, you would have nothing left.

At the very least maybe, just maybe, you could go with him and earn his trust. Play nice for as long as possible until finding the perfect moment to escape. To run home, and warn your family. All three of you could leave, and you’ll never have to see him again. That might just be your only option.

“...Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll…”

“Okay, I-I’ll go with you.” you cried, taking in a shaky breath as tears continued to fall down your face.

“Smart choice, bunny.”

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cherryswisherz · 1 month ago

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KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER I

✷WARNINGS cursing, unrequited love, shitty parents

✷NIYAH SPEAKS #justice4farrah yall should know this is a slow burn

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

In theory, coming home for Thanksgiving is supposed to be a relief. I’m supposed to bask in the free washing machine and dryer.

But in actuality, nothing is free. Not in my house.

While I don’t actually pay for the washer and dryer with USD, I pay in silent tears and withheld remarks.

Y’know how in the movies, the wealthy family is actually really chill and has to pretend to be prim and proper in front of company? Well, in the Johnson household, we actually are prim and proper.

Even though no one but me and my parents are here, I have to keep my tattoos covered, my piercings hidden and my locs are braided down and a quick-weave is flowing a little past my shoulders.

My room is still disgustingly monochromatic with every piece of furniture being the same shade of blue as my walls and bedspread. The rest of the house is just as basic with a black and silver theme. It’s nothing like Jane and I’s apartment, where there’s yellows and greens and oranges everywhere.

Last night, when I called Jane to check on her and see how well Yanna was blending in with her family, she told me that she loved being home, and she never wanted to go back to Storrs. She told me that they loved Yanna and that they made humiliating jokes about her height. She told me that they got her case for not introducing her sooner and that she’d better keep her.

I fucking hate being at home. Every time I come here, I’m overwhelmed with the judgment. I’d never invite my friends from college to come with me for a break and I sure as shit I couldn’t imagine ever bringing a girlfriend here to introduce her to my parents.

“Anita, come make sure the piano is tuned for tonight.” I cringe at the use of my middle name.

Mom’s always called me Anita instead of Xavia because that’s what she wanted to name me.

Dad always wanted a boy so he could have a junior and name him Xavier, but by the time they found out I was a girl, Mom had already decided that she was never doing the pregnancy thing again, so they just made Xavier into Xavia and that was that.

“Okay give me two seconds to get dressed.” I shout so she can hear me through the door.

My parents never really supported the whole ‘there’s no privacy in this house’ thing. They allowed me to close and lock my door as I pleased, which I’m grateful for in this moment because if Mom saw me with this Backwoods bonnet on she would lose her fucking mind.

After looking in the mirror and deciding I’m Parental-Unit-Presentable, I make my way down the stairs and sit on the piano bench.

Mom wanted to name me Anita, after Anita Baker, because she wanted my voice to be as beautiful as hers, but I can’t even describe the hurt displayed on her face when she learned that I can’t sing. So she put me in private piano lessons when I was six and I’ve been playing at every party they’ve hosted since then.

I’m actually really good at piano. I just hate playing for my parents’ events because everyone always stops to watch me play. They always have this impressed look on their face, like they’re more amazed by the person playing the music, rather than the music itself.

Ripped from my thoughts, I answer the FaceTime from Jane and smile when I see her and Yanna cuddled up in a hammock.

Jane and Ayanna have been together since freshman year when we stayed in the dorms. The day after the party that they were introduced at, Yanna dm’d Jane and asked if she wanted to get hangover smoothies with her and the rest was history. They’re sickeningly in love, and Jane is for sure going to get her league babies.

“Hey Xavi, whatcha doin’? Jane asks.

“Practicing piano for the annual Johnson Thanksgiving party, what about you?”

“Uh, we’re in the hammock in my backyard, but forget that. Why have I never known that you play piano?”

“Because it’s never been relevant to any conversation we’ve had.”

“Bro you could have played for Geno’s fundraiser!” Yanna butts in.

“Yeah I’m not doing that but do you wanna hear me play something?” I asked, trying to change the subject. Playing at events like that is the exact setting I hate playing at.

“Of course!” Jane squeals- literally squeals- with excitement.

As I play the song, my mind travels to an alternate reality.

If I’d stayed in Storrs like I’d wanted, Jane and I would be at the UCONN women’s basketball team’s house tonight. Having Friendsgiving and enjoying each other. Jane and Yanna would be attached at the hip, KK would tell us all that she’s thankful for us in the most sarcastic way, we’d all talk about how much we miss Nika and Aaliyah, Farrah would say how thankful she is for Paige, and Paige would awkwardly smile and try to hide how much she hates her girlfriend.

Let me rephrase: she doesn’t hate Farrah, she just hates dating her. She’s never said this but if you asked me, to Paige, Farrah is a spectacle. The pretty girl that wears her jersey at games and jumps into her arms after a big win. She doesn’t actually love her. Hell, she doesn’t even like her. But Paige has the mindset of every serious athlete. She needs a pretty girl on her arm so that her image looks a certain way.

By the time the song is over and Jane and I have gossiped about which side of her family is bringing the mac and cheese, I have an hour to get ready for the party. So I take my shower and do my make-up and squeeze myself into the dress Mom bought for this specific occasion.

And when I’m all dolled up and ready for high society, I walk downstairs and greet the guests before assuming my position on the piano.

The night goes by smoothly. I smile in between songs, and close my eyes when I’m actually playing. I take requests for Christmas songs, even though it’s Thanksgiving and decline tip offers that people make because they think I’m hired help, rather than the daughter of the hosts.

At the end of it all, I stalk back to my room, exhausted and ready to sleep. I check my socials and see that Jane and Yanna are already on a flight back to Storrs and make a mental note to set my alarm so I can be at LAX by 9 in the morning. I see KK’s close friend's story, showcasing her new tattoo. I see that Farrah and Paige went to Farrahs for the break.

I swallow the part of me that yearns to be the one hanging on Paige’s arms and instead focus on the part of me that wishes I was having a good time at home.

Everyone is enjoying being at home, surrounded by family and friends. Meanwhile, I’m miserable and avoid my parents at all costs.

God, I fucking hate being home.

“What about you Paige? What are you thankful for?”

Farrah’s mom sits at one end of the table and her dad sits at the other. Her siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and even a few family friends are all staring at me, waiting for me to say what I’m thankful for. I feel like I’m at a fucking press conferance right now and anything I say can be used against me.

“Um- I’m thankful for my family, my team and my friends.” I say and go back to picking at the plate in front of me. The way I see it, the less I talk the better.

“And of course Farrah, right?” Mr. Musa speaks in the most chill voice ever, but still, my heart stops.

“Oh- Yeah of course! Always thankful for my girl!” I rev up the cheer and sling my arm around Farrah, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“AWWW!” Mrs. Musa gushes, “How sweet!”

Good fucking save, P.

When Farrah and I return to her childhood bedroom, the look on her face tells me that even though I fooled her parents, I wasn’t off the hook.

“You couldn’t remember to say my name for Thanksgiving?” I think she’s trying to sound mad, but I know her feelings are hurt. “We’ve been together for almost five years, and you couldn’t say my name at the table?”

I can’t even really be mad at her. If I was her, I’d be pissed.

“Faye, it was an accident.” I say, going to my duffel bag to get my clothes and bathroom necessities. I just want this day to be over. “You know how grateful I am for you.” When I get to the bathroom, I lock the door and look in the mirror.

You probably think I’m a horrible person, and you may not be wrong in your assumption. I met Farrah freshman year, and we were friends for a solid two weeks before I asked her to be my girlfriend. I really did have feelings for her at the time, but after about six months, the feelings faded. By that time, the internet had become enveloped in our relationship. She was the topic of every interview, every DM, every comment. They loved us. My agent's exact words were, “You’re the internet's parents.”

So I couldn’t leave her. It would have been too messy and hurt the way the media viewed me.

So here we are, four years later. I’m on my last chance at a national championship, and Farrah is in her masters program. Almost five years and we have nothing to show for it; haven’t moved in together, gotten promise rings or matching tattoos, or any real sign of our commitment to each other. Each public display of attachment made me sick, sex felt like a chore, even coming to her parents house, felt completely unnecessary.

In the shower, I wash the day away under the burning water. I mentally prepare myself for an even more emotional Farrah as I dry off. I think of a gameplan on the way back to her room.

And when I get there, I see Farrah, just as I’d expected. Tears streaking down her face, hands shaking, and leg tapping at a demonic speed.

“Faye what’s going on?” Faking oblivion was the best route.

“I just-” She sucks in a breath and pushed the hair out of her face. When her eyes meet mine, I turn to put my things away. “I just can’t believe that you didn’t say my name.” I turn around to find her right behind me with her hands on her hips. “Are you not thankful for me? Are you mad at me? Are you not happy in the relationship?”

Some caged, suppressed part of me bangs at its enclosure and screams TELL HER THE TRUTH YOU ASSHOLE! THIS IS YOUR CHANCE!”

But I step into her space and grab Farrah’s waist, pulling her to me, fighting off the grimace that threatens to take over my face. In this moment, telling her what she wants to hear is the only way to fix this.

When her hands grip my sides, mine grab her face. I make a show of looking her in the eyes and say, “Farrah Musa. You have idea how fucking grateful I am for you. I wouldn’t be where I am without you. You make my life so much easier on a daily basis. You’re funny and sweet and I’m grateful that you choose to share yourself with me.”

It’s not even a lie. Like I said, Farrah was my friend before any of this, and she really is a funny and kind person. We’d be great friends if I hadn’t royally complicated things between us. And she does make my life easier. Without her, I wouldn’t have gained the attention I have, and therefore I wouldn’t have accomplished all that I have.

She tries to fight the smile, but it’s plastered on her face before she can remember what she was even mad about.

“I love you, Paigey.”

“I love you too Faye.” That’s the lie. “Now come on, let’s lay down.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m scrolling on my phone with my back to Farrah. I’ve never been a cuddler. I know she’s still awake, because I can hear her nails tap on her phone every time she swipes.

On Instagram, I slide up and yell at KK for not telling me that she was getting a tattoo. I like Yannas story of her and Jane in turkey onesies. I debate asking Xavia about the picture of her hand on a piano, but decide against it.

She liked the story I posted of Farrah and I with our plates, which threw me off because Xavia is the only one, besides Azzi, who can tell that I’m dying in this relationship.

She’s always making weird faces when Farrah and I hold hands or kiss, and she’s never tried to get to know Farrah, which of course bothers the fuck out of her because she wants everyone to like her. Xavia’s never flat out said anything, but I always get the vibe that she knows something is up.

I wonder what she’s doing right now. I know her parents are like- filthy rich- but she’s never said anything about them. She does have an ‘eat the rich’ sticker on her laptop, but I think that’s an old artifact from her teenage rebellion.

She’s always so happy, and preaches about doing good deeds and being good to others so others will be good to you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry, and even when she’s upset, she’s never gone below the belt. When I think of Xavia, I think of the hippy family member that genuinely strives for world peace.

She’s a really good friend to Jane and she’s just become a part of the family over the years. But she’s also a mystery to me. She never talks about herself, always counselling everyone else.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts but Azzi FaceTiming me. Making sure Farrah is asleep by now, I creep down the hall to the bathroom and answer.

“Yo,”

“How was your Thanksgiving loser?” She’s flossing her teeth.

“Uh- It was fine…”

“What did you do, Paige?” she deadpans and looks at her phone.

“Bro why do you always think I did something?”

“Because you’re always fucking doing something.” She’s got a point.

“I forgot to say her name when we were saying what we’re thankful for.” Azzi’s jaw drops like she’s a cartoon character. “But don’t even worry! I fixed it, we’re good now.”

“No! You’re not ‘good’, Paige!” Judging by the look on her face, and the tone in her voice, I know I’m about to get a world class Azzi Fudd lecture. “You can’t keep doing this to Farrah. She’s a really good girl, and the longer you string her along, the more it’s gonna hurt her when you eventually can’t lie to her anymore and that’s gonna come back to bite you in the ass.”

I sigh at her dramatics but she nips that in the bud quickly.

“Don’t fucking dismiss me Paige.” she wags her finger at me like an old woman. “Hell hath no fury, like a woman scorned.”

I don’t think she understands that I don’t want to be doing this. I don’t wanna be this ‘ asshole who lies to everyone. But I don’t have a choice.

When I go to sleep, I think about how much different my life would be if I’d never asked Farrah out that day. Yeah, I wouldn’t be as fortunate, but I’d probably still have a fucking soul.

✷TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersstrap @paxaz535

@mrsarnold @thelightknight21 @bueckersp @ellapurnellmybeloved @darcyemmasgf @cbfj177

#uconn wbb #uconn #paige bueckers #wcbb #azzi fudd #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 months ago

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Sweet Dreams

Summary: For you it was just a very intense wet dream, clearly never thinking a candle you bought at an occult store would give you the best orgasm you had ever experienced. For Dave York, cursed to fuck whoever lit said candle, you were a willing virgin waiting for him to take you.

Pairing: Ghost!Dave York x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Rating: E

Warnings: non con/ dub con (I don't know how to tag this, reader thinks it's a dream, but it's really ghost Dave fucking her), smut (oral sex m+f receiving, unprotected sex), ghost cumplay, dream sex but not really, dirty talk, losing virginity, spooky stuff, candles (do not light candles and then go to bed!)

Shout out @clawdee for the idea with the cursed candle. Otherwise this whole thing would be even weirder lol

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Main Masterlist // Dave York Masterlist

Dave York had been watching you the moment your fingertips touched the candle at the little occult store you had been in.

He still had no idea who the fuck whoever cursed him knew who his next, let’s call them unknowingly willing partner, was, nor did he know how this all started.

One moment he was on top of a tower trying to kill that Fucker Hall, the next moment he found himself in a dark bedroom, his nose filling with the scent of sandalwood and cherry with a fucking hard on from hell with nothing on his mind but sinking into whatever hole was made available to him.

Hell.

Yeah maybe that was who cursed him.

Cursed him that the moment one of that cursed fucking scented candles were about to be lit, his body would become a vessel for all the dirty things those mostly not so innocent minds dreamed up, and he was only able to stop once he fucked his cum so deep inside of them, he became a part of them.

And it was always on fucking Halloween. Maybe it had to do with ghosts being able to walk the earth or some shit like that.

It’s not like he got a training at being a fucking ghost. (You get it? A fucking ghost… anyways)

He remembered the first time he had come back, he remembered the blonde woman he had fucked and he remembered not being able to stop. Like he would died (pun intended) if he did not fuck her in positions he hadn’t even tried out before until he passed out.

It’s like everything he did was controlled by someone or something. He just thought it easier to imagine it was the person who lit the candle who was controlling their little fuck session.

The longer he stayed dead, the better he got at influencing their wet dreams.

He had fucked them all.

Young women, old women, young men, old men, very old men, trans men and women.

Married women with their husbands sleeping next to them while he fucked their wife in ways they would only dream of.

And they were none of the wiser.

When they woke up after he fucked them for hours, after he blew out the candle (which the dad side of him saw as a fucking fire hazard, I mean who lights a candle and then goes to bed?) and went back to wherever he was until someone else lit one of those candles again, they only thought they had a super intense wet dream.

He long gave up on trying to figure out why his dick seemed get hard the moment a fucking candle got lit. Or how it worked. Or who chose who would got one of those candles. By now he was just enjoying the ride. (Or to get ridden, preferably reverse ;-)

I mean, who in their right mind would think a cursed ghost would appear after they bought and lit a sex dream candle at an occult store and fucked them all night?

But you…. He could tell you were special.

You were wearing a long black dress, a pointy black hat, a witch costume he realised, laughing about something the two girls who were with you were saying, reading out the instructions written on the glass of the candle out loudly.

„For hundreds of years the ingredients of this candle have been the same, sandalwood, cherry and some magical extra ingredients that will turn your deepest fantasies into a night full of pleasure,“ she read out loud.

You looked shy, arguing about spending money on a shitty candle just because there’s some silly line written on it.

„Do it for the orgasms,“ your one friend grinned and Dave could see how you were fighting with yourself.

„Imagine you experience such a good wet dream, you think you lost your virginity,“ your other friend whispered, making you slap her arm with a scandalised gasp before all of you giggled.

A virgin.

It had been some time since Dave got to fuck one of those.

Since he didn’t know how long he actually had been doing whatever the fuck he was doing, he only had a vague memory, but he thought it was at least some years ago.

His encounters all blurred together after a while.

He still watched you as you reread the writings on the candle before you brought it to your nose to inhale the scent.

„Fine. I am buying the sex dream candle,“ you sighed with a chuckle and he watched you go up to the counter any pay, his cock twitching.

He stayed back as you left the store, still none of the wiser about what was gonna happen once you chose to light the candle and go to sleep. He only stayed long enough to watch you walk down the street before he disappeared again, waiting for your call.

Which came eventually.

Dave was standing at the feet of your bed, watching you sleep, the candle lit on a dresser not too far away.

He was pleased to find you alone in bed, having thought of all the ways he wanted to have you ever since he had seen you in the store.

While partners sleeping next to his intended partner weren’t a problem, the candle seemingly taking care of doing whatever it was that it was doing also knocking them out, he preferred to be alone in the bed while he fucked his partner.

Letting his fingertips brush over your soft bedsheets, he closed his eyes, his clothes gone when his eyes opened again, his cock hard and already leaking.

He wanted nothing more than to pull your bedsheets away and sink into your virgin pussy, but decided that he wanted to take his time with you.

Ever so slowly he got onto your bed, crawling until he was hovering over your face, his head tilting to the side as he watched you.

He wondered if you would scream if you’d wake up right now. If you would slap him, scratch him, trying to get him off of you.

And deep down Dave knew that you would.

If you would wake up as normal you right now, he would be fucked.

But he knew the only part of your brain that would wake up during the next hours was the part that was absolutely feral and horny and ready to get fucked.

He smirked, leaning down, his nose brushing over your cheek as he inhaled your scent deeply, chuckling to himself when he felt you shiver.

He sat himself up, kneeling above you, your legs between his, pulling at your sheets until the only fabric separating his skin and yours was the buttoned shirt you had on to sleep.

Some buttons had come open, revealing some of your tits to his eyes and he licked his lips before he opened the last few buttons, slipping the fabric open.

„Fucking perfect virgin tits,“ he grinned to himself, his fingers brushing over your already hard nipples. He let his eyes wander, positively delighted to find out you weren’t wearing any panties.

„Dirty girl,“ he hummed before he leaned down to put one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it.

He let one of his hands slip between your legs, finding you already wet and dripping. His eyes caught what looked like your vibrator laying abandoned on the bed not to far away from you and he grinned to himself.

You were fucking touching yourself before he got here.

Playing with your pussy while he sucked on your tits he noticed your body reacting to him, one of your hands slipping through his hair with a soft sigh. When he looked up at you, your eyes were still closed but you were smiling.

„Gonna have a taste of this pretty pussy now,“ he said to no one in particular as he slipped down your body. He parted your legs for him, wrapping his arms around your thighs. His cock was fucking throbbing as he licked into you. Moaning at the faint taste of you, this afterlife not letting him have your full taste but just enough to drive him insane.

He played with you, feeling you trying to roll your hips against his mouth, a little sigh escaping your lips. He grinned as he played with your clit, one finger slipping inside of you.

„Wonder why nobody fucked this pussy yet. Is it you or is it them?“ He asked out loud, slipping another finger inside of you as he just looked up at you, your lips parted, your brows furrowed. You were clenching around his fingers and he was about to cum just thinking about fucking you. To be the first cock inside of you.

And you wouldn’t even know it happened.

He angled his fingers inside of you until you jerked against him and he grinned when he felt that spongy spot inside of you.

„You gonna cum for me,“ he hummed before he sucked your clit between his lips, swirling is tongue around it, and he felt the moment you fell apart, your back arching from the mattress, your lips parting in a low moan, your pussy squeezing his fingers like a vice.

„Fucking beautiful,“ he grunted.

He continued to move his fingers inside of you, prolonging your orgasm until he slipped them out, licking them clean. He sat himself up on his knees, his hand wrapping around his cock, pumping it slowly as he watched you.

He got some sick sense of satisfaction out of watching you just lay there, unconscious but willing to be fucked like a dirty whore. And he knew you were willing because he was only doing what you wanted.

Because you were dreaming it.

You were dreaming of getting fucked. He was just a vessel for your little dirty mind.

He hummed, bending down to kiss up your body, his lips closing around one of your nipples, playing with it. He lined himself up, slipping the head of his cock through your wet folds.

Letting go of your nipple with a plop he rested his weight on one arm next to your head, his face hovering over yours, watching you as he slowly pushed his cock into you.

He watched every expression of your face as he filled you, deeper and deeper, your pussy so wet he felt no resistance at all. When you gasped as he pushed through your barrier he grinned, his cock now fully inside of you.

The first cock you ever had.

The one you wouldn’t even remember.

„Not a virgin anymore you little slut,“ he grunted before he began to move. Fucking his cock into you wet pussy over and over again. He was surprised when you tilted your face up to kiss him, your eyes still closed. He hummed against your lips, his tongue parting your lips, kissing you deeply all while pumping into you faster and you moaned against his mouth.

Grinning he parted from your lips, pulling his cock out of you.

With little effort he turned you on your stomach, pulling your ass up so you were on your knees, before he was inside you again. His fingers digging into your hips as he fucked himself into you in hard quick thrusts.

You were so fucking wet you were dripping down his balls.

It wasn’t long before you began to meet his thrusts, now moaning shamelessly into your pillow while still deeply asleep.

He slapped your ass, before he leaned down to wrap his arm around you, pulling you up against his chest. With his hand gripping one of your tits as he kept you flush against his chest he pumped his cock inside of you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin the only noise in the room, apart from your moans.

„You gonna cum for me again,“ he whispered against your ear, feeling your shiver. Smirking his other hand wrapped around your neck, using only a tiny bit of pressure to choke you, your pussy clamping down on him immediately a loud moan escaping your lips as you came, Dave grunting behind of you as he fucked you through your orgasm before he groaned, biting into your shoulder as he came, fucking you full of his cum.

You were both out of breath, panting as he held you up. As soon as he released his grip around you you fell back into your bed and Dave chuckled to himself.

He was still hard.

And he wasn’t finished yet.

He moved to lay down on his side, putting your body against him, his cock entering you from behind.

„I wonder how many positions you wanna be fucked in before we’re finished,“ he hummed against your ear, his hand playing with your clit as he fucked into you.

It was almost time for the sun to come up when he didn’t feel the need to fuck you anymore.

You finally must be running out of ideas. Or you weren’t horny anymore.

No, not that. He could see your pussy still dripping from your shared releases. Of course you wouldn’t know it was his… ghost cum leaking out of you.

In the beginning he questioned if he would be able to impregnate someone like this, but by now he just didn’t care anymore.

He must say, this might have been his favourite encounter yet. He almost lost it when he was fucking your face, finding himself wishing you would open your eyes so he could see your eyes watering as he fucked your throat over and over again.

Who could have known how deeply kinky and horny you little virgin whore were?

He took one last look at you, sweaty and positively wrecked, the mark he sucked into your neck on full display, a soft smile on your kiss swollen lips, before he walked over towards your dresser where the candle was still flickering.

He blew it out, watching the smoke rise into the air, feeling his body get lighter.

When he turned around, already feeling his body slip into nothingness he was surprised to find your eyes opened and looking at him.

You were awake.

That had never happened before. He usually was gone before they woke up.

But before he could process what was happening or hear you scream he was gone.

Waiting for next Halloween when someone would light a seemingly innocent scented sex dream candle they bought at a witchy store, that would summon him to fuck them senseless.

#my fic #Dave York #Dave York x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #ghosts #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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quirrrky · 4 months ago

Text

—•✦ STUPID CUPID!

BOKUTO's got it all, but while all his friends have special someone in their lives, all thanks to him, he was left single and alone until that one accidental night ‧˚꒰happy birthday, bokuto!! 🥳꒱༘⋆

3k+ f!reader, accidental marriage, suggestive

Bokuto “The Volleyball Hero” was the center of MSBY Jackals. He got special interviews, merch of his own and even a vlog series for god’s sakes. He seemed like he’s the most fortunate among the members, but little to what the outsiders know, he was the most envious.

“I hope you both fulfill the love, family and happiness you're dreaming of,” Kenma called for a toast for his newly wed best friend and his wife.

Everyone around Bokuto was getting married, engaged or partnered up.

Let’s not go anywhere far. Just take Kuroo right there who was so busy sneaking kisses from his bride from time to time.

Not long ago, he was single as a pringle like Bokuto too. Man had casual to shallow relationships but nothing’s ever going anywhere, until that day Bokuto brought him as a plus-one at a wedding. Kuroo hit it off with another plus-one who’s not even related to the couple. It was love at first sight according to him, and now, he’s the one getting married.

Bokuto was left single.

He took a deep breath and saw his kouhai, Akaashi. Since he had been an athlete, he seemed to see his junior less. Excitement brewed inside him only to turn cold right away as he watched one of MSBY’s road managers lace her fingers with Akaashi’s. Yeah, it was all because of Bokuto’s meddling as well.

Akaashi was an editor of a Volleyball-centric manga and he needed Bokuto’s insights back then and so Bokuto gave one of MSBY’s road managers as contact person to communicate with Akaashi. Now, they were set to get married next year too.

A long sigh escaped through him. Everywhere he looked, everyone was happily in the arms of another. He slumped his shoulders. What’s so good about romance and relationships anyway? It’s not as if it’s as fun as Volleyball.

He pouted.

Bokuto was jealous, seething envious.

He wanted someone to give him a loooong kiss after winning a match just like Atsumu and his fiance. He imagined someone would call him long-distance whenever he’s away like how his pretty manager would do for Akaashi. He would very much love to look at someone and laugh with her like the world only belongs to the two of them just as how much Kuroo was having the time of his life right now with the love of his life.

All of them happened because of him yet he was left all by himself.

Tears triggered to fall from his eyes, but he swallowed every drop of them in. He was genuinely happy for his friends, and he wished, with all his heart, that their relationships would be successful and fulfilling.

Perhaps, he’s lucky in Volleyball but totally sucks in love. This is life. You can't have it all. So he won’t. That simple.

All night long, Bokuto partied like an animal he never was. He drank all the hard liquor together with the bitter truth that he’s the fun single uncle his nephews and nieces would love to play with.

“Bokuto-san, you've had enough! That’s- that’s too much!” He heard Akaashi called out to him, but he didn’t care.

Curse all the gods! All this time he was playing cupid to all his friends and now he’s the one without anyone.

“F@#k you!” He shouted to the heavens. Big F to that dumbass Cupid! He had been doing that loser’s job all along yet he ain’t having any reward. Asshole better train. He’d been missing his arrows when it came to him. “Aaarghh! Fu-”

Bokuto clasped on his chest. A strong sting came right through and, all of a sudden, he bumped onto someone. He looked back and a shroud of white flooded his vision.

Is he dead?

But how can he hear birds chirping?

Are there birds in heaven?

Well, there can’t be any in hell so he’s lucky he’s in heaven.

Bokuto opened his eyes as he slowly brought himself to sit upright. He rubbed the sleep off and took in his surroundings. Fancy room. He thought. Was this his apartment in heaven?

He glanced at his side, and he marveled at the ethereal being he saw. Must be an angel. A smile appeared across his face. He’s so lucky to wake up next to an angel, indeed. Itching, he poked a finger on her cheek.

Her eyes gradually opened, and he sure heard a chorus sang in his ears by how beautiful she was. She got up, wearing a large white tee, which looked immaculate on her by the way. She didn’t need wings to fly. She had already taken flight in Bokuto’s head.

Wait! Was this even true? You blinked twice. Thrice. Four times.

"B-Bokuto..." Your eyes widened. He’s shirtless, looking so hot this early in the morning beside you in bed...

Last night...

You inspected your clothing which gave out every sign of intimacy and if you were right...

"Y/N!" It finally registered in his head! He's still alive and it was you? He studied you closely, taking in your swollen lips, flushed cheeks and beautifully disarrayed hair. You're lovely. You're still an angel regardless if he's just dreaming.

Who thought you were this pretty all along! Bokuto's the type of guy who could never take a hint unless you initiate and you...You never initiate nor flirt with him obviously that's why he'd never really see, consider you in that way.

Maybe it wasn't Cupid's fault, it's his. An angel was just around him but he always failed to notice.

Gulping the thick lump in your throat, if you would remember correctly...

You turned to the bedside table on your left. Surprise coloring your expression as you take the paper on the table.

It was a dream. It was a dream. It was a dream.

But no.

Bokuto took a long read at the paper you were holding. “W-Wait- We are...”

“Yes.”

You were, indeed, married to Bokuto Koutaro.

One of the guests at Kuroo’s wedding was a government employee, who had the authority to officiate a marriage with just a stamp and now...

“Semi!” Bokuto proclaimed. “It’s him! What happened?” he asked. “How?”

You blushed. You’d rather not recall what happened last night which was a bit clear for you unlike Bokuto who was totally clueless. You snuck a glance at him. He’s so comfortable in his own skin, attractive mire than he knows it, and you were flustered, seeing him half uncovered.

“I-I-I guess we better get dressed first!”

“Oh! Yeah!” He agreed and stood up. The blanket slipped off his body completely, unraveling what’s left unraveled that had your eyes popping at the sight in front of you. “I’m sorry! I'm sorry!”

You turned away red-faced.

You were the content creator especially assigned by the JVA to Bokuto. Since he had a strong clout and they can utilize it to promote volleyball, he had exclusive interviews and vlog series, which were something you were doing for him.

You probably know Bokuto more than himself by now with all the research you've done about him and with all the time you spent with each other.

Since you were assigned to him, your career was centered around him, which was your entire life right now. You would be lying if you'd say you didn't find him attractive at all. You may have quite a soft spot for him you kept on burying to death, keeping things professional between you two until last night. If there's something aside from volleyball he's a pro at it's definitely...

You shook your head. You shouldn't be thinking these things.

Once dressed, you both decided to seek Kuroo's help. After all, the newly kept hinself sober last night.

“So we got married at the same day, huh?” Kuroo told Bokuto while waiting for Semi on the phone. The two of them talked over the guy in question to seek for a solution.

Apparently, according to Semi, divorce was the easiest method since annulment would be pricier.

“He said we have to divorce,” Bokuto informed you. Now, this part came with a little bit of disappointment for him. “The papers will come in a month or few.”

He was lowkey sad. He got his chance for a love life only to be taken away in a snap.

"No worries," you said. "I can wait."

Somehow, you shared the same sentiments as him. Despite your close relationship professionally, you'd want to get to know him more...personally—not as an athlete, but as an individual.

You were about to exit the hotel but a small commotion suddenly made its way towards you.

The reporters and vloggers were quick to pick up on the news, and as soon as someone saw you both together, they all approached with questions.

Bokuto couldn’t lie as he was actually proud and happy to have you, while you were worried that your accidental marriage might affect his image and sponsorship.

You tightly held onto his hand and looked at him. He leaned down and you whispered. “I can be your wife.” His eyes grew in surprise. “For a while.”

An ecstatic grin appeared on his face. Who would’ve thought he’d be so lucky? He got an angel as his wife, though he felt so stupid not to realize how good of a match you two would make until something unforeseenike this would happen.

Bokuto's quick to pull you close to him and he proudly announced that he’s officially a married man. You couldn’t help but feel the same happiness he was radiating. You giggled just watching him. He glanced back at you, eyes watering with gratitude.

“You’re the best!”

Sure, he already said that to you a hundred of times, but there's something about the way he said it this time that made it different.

•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•

You both agreed to live together in the meantime since people’s noses would be up his business. Also, soon, he’d be away for overseas training so it wouldn't be much of a big deal.

Bokuto took his role as a husband very seriously though. He’d welcome you with a big tight hug whenever he’d come home from practice. After all, you have already done more than that the very first time you got re-acquainted.

You’d spend the rest of the day eating and doing chores together. Some nights, you’d be playing card games and watching movies together just like two best friends, enjoying each other’s company in cold nights.

“There you go! Catch him! Go!” Bokuto screamed at the TV.

“Uhm...I think that’s the killer though,” you pointed out. “He’s chasing after the victim.”

Bokuto stopped, stupefied. Damn! How could he look so much like a loser in front of you. You just laughed at him. It was not mocking, rather it was very endearing. Just watching you laugh sort of made him much bubblier too.

Silly! He was so silly. He laughed at himself and you both shared that small but warm moment. It felt so good he didn’t want it to end.

Aaaargh! He was truly an idiot for realizing that you were there right beside him all along and he kept his sights to non-sense pursuits. It didn't matter now what mattered the most was he got you right with him at this very moment.

Days turned into a week and it’s time for his overseas training. Bokuto felt a little off. Everybody could tell that he wasn't his usual chirpy self. He got so used to being around you that not having you in a day made him lose all balance in spirits. A pout never left his face the entire flight.

They took a break from practice and his teammates were teasing each other when his phone rang. Lazily, he looked into it and his face lit up when he saw it was you.

“Y/N! It’s youuu!” He exclaimed with enthusiasm. “You called!”

“Of course,” you said. “You were away so I thought I might check up on you.”

Timezones had it. It was during this time when you’d both watch your favorite show together, so it reminded you of him. And...maybe a day without him was something so new now for you.

His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I never thought you would! It’s great to hear your voice.”

You giggled from the other line.

“Me too.”

“Will you call me tomorrow before the game too?” His tone was almost pleading.

“Sure,” you said, rolling all over the bed like a giddy high school girl.

“Yes! How ‘bout even after the game? Then the next day?”

“I would. Everyday.”

Atsumu quirked up an eyebrow, watching Bokuto go from zero to a hundred. Just what kind of vitamins did he take just now to be so bolstered up at an instant like that.

“What’s with him?” The blonde asked his teammates.

Hinata scooted close to Atsumu and whispered like a gossiping old lady. “Y/N...”

“Ohhhh...” Tsumu reacted as they talked about Bokuto and his express wedding setup, but the person in topic had all his ears on you over the phone.

Distance didn't matter between the two of you. He enjoyed listening and talking to you over the phone. It also made coming home more exciting. He never felt this way before.

“Y/N!” Bokuto announced, arriving home. You turned in anticipation and he copped you in his arms and twirled you around like a Disney princess.

You were in a fit of laughter and he simply found joy in your happiness.

“Miss you so much!” He hugged you super tight, rubbing his cheek against yours.

“Me too! Me too! I stopped watching the series because I’m waiting for you.”

“Oh, Y/N!” he exclaimed then remembered, “I smelled like airplane! I better take a bath first before we get back to episode 7.”

You laughed and he headed off to the bathroom, while you set aside his luggage and kept some of his stuff.

“Y/N! My angel!” he called from inside the bathroom and you covered your face. He was always so cheesy like that even if it’s just you two and you’re still not used to it. “I forgot to bring my towel with me.”

You grabbed his towel and knocked on the door. He partially opened the door, showing you a glimpse of his well-toned abs and a slight peek at his bare pelvis and legs. You reached the towel to him not looking at back at his direction.

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked, curiously.

“Y-Yes,” you admitted, flushed to the neck. “Are you not?”

“Why would I?” Bokuto wrapped the towel around his waist. “I believe I look good,” he said. “The same as you.”

“W-What?” Your face heated up profusely.

“I think you look good with or withou-”

“Stop!” You ran away, diving into your bed and hiding under the blankets. You knew you couldn’t say no if he’d ever make a move. Under the context of your agreement, you were married..for a while. You also live uder one room, so the possibility of that is highly likely.

You heard his steps getting closer. He sat beside you and lifted the blanket, revealing your bashful self underneath.

He giggled. “You’re just so cute. Do you know that?” His face inched closer to yours. He kissed your nose and you closed your eyes. Next thing you knew, he had already captured your lips. His arms now caging you as you got lost, fallen under his spell.

His eyes were so loving when you’re under him. Peeling you off from where you hide, his smiled like he couldn’t believe what he’s seeing. “You look so good. So good just like how I thought.”

Right then and there, you allowed yourself to believe him and get swept away.

•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•

Koutaro usually comes home early but he was getting home a little late recently. You were glancing at the clock when the doorbell rang and you thought it was him. He probably left his keys again. You headed towards the door and opened it.

“Mail for Bokuto Koutaro-san,” the mail man informed and you signed the receiving form.

You read the delivery details attached on the envelope.

From: Semi Eita

You gasped.

Divorce papers. You knew this would be the divorce papers you and Koutarou requested when you initially found out that you got married by accident.

And you remembered that this setup was only for a while.

Your heart ached so suddenly. You didn’t want this to end. You didn't want you and Kotarou to end. You might not start the way normal couples do, what you had for him was real. At least, for the few months you spent with each other, it seemed so real. But was it ever real for him too?

You must’ve prepared yourself when you agreed to this arrangement.

Tears crawled down your cheeks. You’re in love with Koutarou, but you must do the right thing.

The door to your, no, his apartment opened. “Y/N, my angel! I’m back hooome! Where are you?” Bokuto excitedly announced, but his face dropped to be welcomed by your crestfallen face. “What happened? Why are you...”

You wiped your tears away and forced a smile. “No, this...is just...nothing. Nothing really!”

He sat beside you. Before he could even tease you, you handed over the envelope to him.

You heard the material being torn open as you focused your vision to your hands on your lap.

Several scenarios played in your head. It’s either he’d play it cool because all this time he knew what he’s singing for, and all this was just a random episode in his life—something he could easily shrug off. The other one was the probability that he loved you the same, but he wouldn’t want to ruin the agreement between you and him, so he’d gladly set you free.

You weren’t prepared for this. Could you ask for one more night, days, weeks, months, years with him? Would he allow that? Do you really have the courage to ask that of him? But you knew your heart would be broken into shards once he rejected you.

Your mind spiralled out of control.

“Is this...why you’re sad, Y/N?” he asked, full of concern. You couldn’t lie about that. “Actually, I asked Semi about this. I really wanted to divorce you immediately.”

You pinched close your eyes and gripped the fabric of your skirt.

“But seeing that this got you sad, I guess, I better tell the truth.” He took your hand and cupped it between his. “I want us to divorce so I can do things properly.”

You raised your head to look at him.

He knelt down on the floor and brought your hand over his cheek. “Oh, how could I even hurt you? It’s my fault I made you cry like this.”

“Koutaro...” you mumbled in confusion.

“My friends are helping me plan things. Kuroo even helped me pick, but this couldn’t wait.” Scurrying inside his pocket, he pulled out a box, flipped it open and revealed a diamond ring. “I want to marry you properly, Y/N.”

Your tears of sadness were replaced with pleasant surprise. Your hands flew to your mouth.

“Now, this wasn’t as grand as we are thinking of but...” His lips quivered and soon he joined you in sobbing. “I can’t afford to see you crying. I can’t break up with you, Y/N. Ilove you. You’re my angel. How can I survive knowing that I let you fly away?”

You lovingly laughed at his signature dramatics and you knelt beside him, engulfing him in a warm embrace. “I love you, too, Koutaro.” You parted a little, looking him in the eye. “I’ll marry you.”

He burst out in happiness as you giggled like pre-school kids encountering the magic of puppy love.

Bokuto recalled wishing for this not a while back...To laugh like the rest of the world doesn't matter just like Kuroo and his wife back then when you two first met.

Now, he’s got a wife too.

Maybe it wasn't Cupid who was stupid all along. Maybe it was him. The love of his life was always right in front of him yet he failed to notice.

Thanks to Cupid for doing his job at last. He finally struck an arrow to the woman Bokuto could never live without.

@pixelcafe-network

#bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto scenarios #bokuto fluff #haikyuu scenarios #hq bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

227 notes · View notes

ebullientheart · 1 year ago

Text

sleep mad. spencer reid x reader

content — hurt comfort. bau!reader. mention of bau case. short fic.

you don’t let spencer leave your hotel room after a fight.

it was a perfectly normal reaction, to storm out for fresh air after a tense argument. spencer didn’t expect you to literally scream ‘no!’ from behind him. he turned on his heel so fast, recognising the fear in your voice from case victims, preparing himself to see you being attacked. he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of tears, and no criminal presence.

when the two of you disagreed, it was almost always with quiet voices and levelled frustration. this time was no different. neither of you had yelled, cursed, or become enraged. it was irritation and exhaustion at the root of it, and it wasn’t worth the look on your face now. his own eyes shot wide in concern, spencer saw how you visibly trembled in the doorway, despite the evening being uncharacteristically warm, humid even. in the dingy light from the hotel hallway, he could hardly make out the contours of your face, but he could imagine what it must have looked like. why had you shouted?

you swiped messily at the damp rivets dug into your cheeks from the sudden fit of crying, effectively willing yourself to stop as you folded your arms defensively. your voice was wavering but firm as you said, “no. if you want space, i’ll go sit on the fire escape, but you can’t… you can’t leave this late spence.”

he raised a brow at you. usually, he disliked being told what to do, but that clearly wasn’t your intention here. spencer could clearly see the terror on your face, but he couldn’t decipher what you were so afraid of. so, forgetting the rule to not profile each other, he asked. you reached forward and tugged him into the room by his forearm, ever gentle, before spinning away to leave him be. but he didn’t want space anymore, he wanted answers.

“what’s going on?”

knowing you could never successfully lie to spencer, you sighed and dug your hands into your pockets. you felt guilty for not allowing him what he’d needed to cool off, but you couldn’t let him leave like that while working this case. each of the three victims left behind a brokenhearted spouse, each of which you’d been interviewing since eight that morning. the last was the worst, breaking down fully in jj’s arms, wracked with uncontrollable sobbing as they explained the last interaction they’d shared was a verbally vicious fight. their last words were venomous, and no peace was made.

“tell me.” spencer’s demand was soft. he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, and your heart twisted as the new angle enunciated the dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. you were sure you sported a matching pair.

you tried your best not to shut down, to communicate, “we… we see so many grievers. how many tell us that their last conversations were full of anger? they… can’t ever accept what happened, move on, because they never go to say ‘i love you’ that last time. they think the other died hating them. if we’re apart, and something happens, and our last words were just mean…”

he listened as you struggled through your explanation, but when you finally trailed off and dropped eye contact, he stood slowly. you heard him pad across the cheap carpet to get close enough to find the palm of your hand, and you let him take it in his own. a light rain had begun to batter the small window.

“you’re right,” spencer whispered, something you rarely hear when dating a genius, “you’re right. our lives are dangerous. but i don’t want us to fight anyway. i’m sorry.”

you sniffed and tried to not think about how pathetic you sounded when you repeated his final sentence back to him, equally as sincere.

spencer thumbed lightly at the dip between your eye and cheekbone, “i love you. now, and when we fight. i- i always love you.”

again, you echoed his sentiment, accompanying it with the sweetest kiss you could press to his jaw. your fingers curled into his hair, carefully undoing a tangle, and simultaneously undoing every knot of tense muscle in his body.

most couples just worried about going to sleep mad. you weren’t sure what it said that your worries centred around one of you being brutally murdered before making up, but you supposed that unique thought process just came with the territory. there was no blanket pulled over your eyes, the world wasn’t hiding it’s most sinister corners from you. or if it was, you sought them out. but those fears that usually haunted you just melted away when you held spencer. you were just like most couples.

two young adults, completely in love, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of your breaths in a crappy hotel, blissfully ignorant to the residents of the rooms either side of you grumbling about being awoken by your hallway confrontation.

a mess of entwined limbs, you eventually made it to bed, to sleep. one of you, or maybe both, uttered an “i love you” every few minutes. an enforced reminder to linger in your half-asleep state, lulling your minds to rest.

sleep came easy, for once.

#🤍ebullientheart #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #bau!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #fluff #spencer reid fluff #angst #spencer reid angst

1K notes · View notes

motherlvr · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, can you do a Earth 42!Miles x Earth 42!Spider-Woman!Reader where Reader somehow meets Hobie and they hit it off. Miles sees them one day and gets jealous

tysm for the req!!

wc: 2.8k

pairing: E-42! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader

warnings: cursing, argument, friends to lovers, makeout sesh, slightly suggestive

a/n: imagine some comically sized british chap comes in and steals ur girl nahhh

-----------

Your webs were useless against him.

At the moment, you were trying to apprehend a Vulture-like man and prevent him from further harming Brooklyn. As you have been for the past hour. You tried to pin the winged man down using your webs, but he tore right through them like they were made of paper.

What you initially believed going to be light work turned into a much larger problem as you were slammed into the side of a building. The unwelcome guest had an unfair advantage over you. You had to learn that the hard way.

His wing regenerated within only seconds of you ripping it off. It was like you were inside a cartoon.

Your jaw almost dropped to the ground. Hammerspace was real? You had only read about it in comics. "Dude, who even are you?" You shouted in confusion. But whoever he was, he wasn't from your world. That part was evident.

But it seemed like the tides were turning to your benefit.

You heard it before you saw it. You could've sworn guitar riffs rang throughout the air before another unexpected visitor came flying through a portal.

Upon further inspection, you realized it was another Spider-person. How was that possible? You thought you were the only one. But it wasn't the oddest thing you've seen as Spider-woman.

Bashing the winged man on the head with an electric guitar, he temporarily caught the Vulture off guard. Using it to his advantage, he quickly encased the anomaly in a force cage. Dusting off his palms, his lengthy legs strode over to you.

"Hold ya applause." He joked, giving you a small bow and pretending to tip an invisible hat.

His slightly cocky attitude was justified as you almost did applause. He folded the guy you've been fighting for an hour within only a few minutes. With a damn guitar, nonetheless. You almost geeked out, "That was fuckin' sick!" you exclaimed.

"Don't sell yourself short, mate. You did most of the work. My name's Hobie." He introduced himself. And from there, a grand friendship bloomed.

---------

Present-day and a few months have passed since you were practically drafted into the Spider Society. It was like a full-time job, as consumed most of your free time. The spare time that you'd usually spend hanging out with Miles. So needless to say, you were deprived of interactions with anyone that wasn't genetically enhanced by a spider.

Balancing your social life and the fate of the multiverse was much more challenging than Miguel originally let on. But what would he know about social life, anyway?

In the time you've spent at the Spider Society headquarters, you gravitated towards the infamous freedom fighter, Spider-punk. Or as he refers to be called: Hobie Brown.

Ever since he singlehandedly took the Vulture out with a guitar, the two of you just 'clicked'. Better yet, you guys were an unbeatable duo when it came to dealing with anomalies. You were almost inseparable. Just as Miles and you once were. Miguel even assigned Hobie the same missions as you.

One could say Hobie became what Miles once was to you. As you used to confide in Miles, you started to turn to Hobie instead. It wasn't that you were intentionally trying to distance yourself from Miles, but rather due to the convenience that Hobie shared the same issues as you. Rather, in this case, almost the exact same story. Hobie understood you to a Tee.

Miles was aware of your identity as Spider-woman as you were aware of him being the Prowler. But it wasn't always that way. Once upon a time, Miles originally intended to keep his identity as the Prowler a secret from you, but you found out anyway. Call it your spider-sense, if you may.

When someone close to you mysteriously disappears for various periods of time, it starts to hit a little too close to home. Miles trying to keep his identity concealed from you was a routine that wasn’t too different from yours. Him sneaking out at night, returning at ungodly hours with bruises, and lying. It was all too familiar. You eventually figured it out on your own. And when you confronted him about the truth, he confessed it all to you.

When he apologized for keeping such a crucial piece of information a secret, you couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. So you revealed your secret identity to him. The two of you entrusted each other with your greatest secrets. Secrets that could completely ruin one's life if they were spread to the world. It would put massive targets on both of your backs. The two of you had something special: trust. Or at least, used to.

Refocusing back on the present, you were currently out hunting anomalies with Hobie as you have been for the past months.

Today's anomaly was a particularly pesky villain. He had Hobie and you running in circles all around New York. Inevitably, the two of you caught him anyway.

Wiping the sweat off your forehead, you realized how fatigued you were. You were sure Hobie felt the same.

Your life revolved around the Spider Society and what missions needed to be completed. You worked all day and all night to ensure the protection of the multiverse. You didn’t have much time to yourself nor time for anyone outside of the Spider Society.

So, after completing the mission Miguel had assigned the both of you, you convinced Hobie to take a short interlude with you before going off to catch another dimension-destroying villain. Thankfully, he agreed.

Opening a portal to your selected safe space in New York, you guided Hobie outside the Clocktower. You frequented it when you needed a quick retreat from all the responsibilities being Spider-woman came with. But unbeknownst to you, Miles did the same. He was leaning his back against the other side of the Clocktower, unsuspecting of your presence.

Safe to presume, both of you were alike in more ways than just having secret identities as vigilantes.

Miles has been visiting this Clocktower ever since he took up his Uncle's mantle as the Prowler. He came up to this tower to wind down, away from his vigilante duties. His life was turned upside down, but the one thing that remained constant in his life was you. Now was a different story, however. You were slowly fading away from him, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Angling his head up towards the sky, he pondered about your disappearance. What could possibly have you so occupied? Another guy? Just the thought irked him.

You stopped returning his calls, messaging him, and didn't seem to have any free time. He knew being Spider-woman must come with great responsibility, but the excuses you made were piling up. The mutual trust the two of you once shared was slowly becoming a distant memory.

As Hobie and you pulled your masks down, you let out a long exhale of air. Sitting on the ledge of the clocktower with your legs swinging, Hobie made himself at home next to you. He said, "I am absolutely knackered." his English accent becoming more prominent. You cracked a slight smile and teased, "You tired, innit?" He only rolled his eyes at you and said, "You ain't even use innit right, you pillock."

Your uncontrolled laughter could be heard from miles away. It felt good to be able to relax for once. Even if it was only for a few minutes. Dramatically wiping tears from your eyes, you asked in between laughs, "What the hell is a pillock?" Hobie didn't find it nearly as amusing but gave a small chuckle at how comedic you found it.

As your laugh rang throughout the air, Miles' ears almost perked, despite not hearing your voice in months. Suddenly rising from his position, he wondered whether his ears were deceiving him. But as your laughter got louder, he was positive it was you.

Following the familiar sound of your voice, he spotted you sitting on the ledge of the Clocktower, looking as carefree as ever. Your back was facing toward him, and he was dying to just catch a single glimpse of you.

He called out your name with only a hint of hesitation. And when you whipped your head around, it was like a wave of affection hit him all over again. He was seeing you for the first time in months. Even after all that time away, you still made his heartbeat pause.

A silent moment passed as the sun's gleaming rays framed your figure in all the right ways. He only snapped out of his trance when he realized you weren't alone. You were accompanied by a rather conspicuous individual. Another guy.

Narrowing his eyes at the sight of the unknown male, he asked you, "What're you doin' up here, ma?

He wanted to hold a grudge against you for barely speaking to him within the past few months, but that was a less-pressing matter that he'd bring up later.

You disappeared for months. But out of the blue one evening, you return with some unknown guy. Staring at Miles, you looked like a deer caught in headlights. He felt as if he wasn't supposed to be seeing this.

Perhaps Miles was being selfish. But he couldn't bare to see you with another guy. So when he saw you with Hobie, he only assumed the worst.

Not to mention, Miles believed you looked a bit too cozy with the enigma of a male next to you. If he hadn't interrupted the two of you, it seemed to him like you would've snuggled right into the other man's side. Who was he? And why would you choose to spend your time with him rather than Miles? What did he have that Miles lacked? His jealousy was bound to make him snap the longer he saw you in the comforts of a guy that wasn't him.

But what he felt ran deeper than just jealousy. He was envious. He was envious of a man whom he didn't know anything about. Because he was who you chose to spend time with, not Miles. That was how Miles perceived it, anyway.

Your response made him snap back to reality. "Miles? What are you doing here?" Emphasizing the word 'you', you tried to reverse the question onto him. The Clocktower wasn't exactly a designated hang-out area for civilians. Hobie stood up and stretched as he was going to introduce himself to Miles. He held his hand out to help you up and you mindlessly accepted it. Miles' eye twitched seeing your hand in another man's hold.

Hobie and you walked over to Miles, and Miles' envy only grew. He soon realized Hobie was a Spider-person as well. Just as you were. Since when did a Spider-man exist? Miles thought.

Hobie exuded nonchalance as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his spiked jacket. He seemed unbothered by Miles' presence.

Questions plagued Miles' mind as he analyzed Hobie: Were you into guys like him? Is he why you haven't been around lately? How was he so tall?

Miles stared daggers into Hobie's eyes. But Hobie brushed off his glare and said, "What's up, man? Name's Hobie." Miles only nodded his head once at him and said, "I'm Miles." "Yeah, I know." Hobie responded. Miles paused for a second but shook it off as he turned to you. Replying to your previous question of why he was here, he told you, "I come here sometimes. You too, huh?"

Nodding your head, you agreed, "Yeah. To clear my mind, y'know?" With some other guy? Miles almost snipped. Instead, he hummed in response. Enunciating, he asked the question that's been lingering in the back of his mind for months. "Where've you been for the past months, ma? You went ghost." He tried to seem as collected as he could.

Rubbing the back of your head, you tried to come up with some lame response. "Sorry, Miles. I've just been busy lately." Miles couldn't stop his next words from coming out once they started to form.

"Busy doin' what exactly? Him?" He remarked, nodding his head in Hobie's direction. His outburst made your eyes widen in shock. You were aware you didn't look entirely presentable, with maybe a few stray strands of hair, but could you catch a break for once? You had just saved another dimension from deteriorating.

Hobie and you blurted out a response at the same time, "Nah, that's mad." "Absolutely not." But Miles wasn't convinced. The way both Hobie and you appeared utterly exhausted wasn't exactly helping your case.

Sensing the obvious tension in the air and the way you gaped at Miles, Hobie glanced down at you and pointed out, "Hol'up, you fancy the Prowler?" as a slight chuckle escaped his lips. His face was laced with an amused smirk rather than judgment.

"Hobie!" You shot him an agitated look, silently telling him to shut up.

Miles was only wondering how Hobie instantly knew he was the Prowler. He was convinced for a second that Hobie could read minds.

Hobie began to understand Miles' initial hostility and tried to assure him. "Apologies, apologies. I ain't know you lot were together." Hobie said, raising his palms in his defense.

Miles had no intention to correct Hobie, but you hesitated as you said to him, "We're not..." The words faltered on your tongue. Noticing your hesitation, Hobie leaned down to you and whispered in your ear, "Yeah? Does he know that?"

Reading the room, Hobie could tell you needed to speak to Miles in private. It seemed Miles was in the dark about a few key things. So as always, once Hobie is satisfied with the mayhem he has instigated, he leaves the scene. Giving you a two-fingered salute, Hobie tells you, "Alright, I'm off. See you in a bit." throwing you a wink. You mentally cursed him as he strolled away. Once he was out of Miles' sight, he disappeared into a portal back home.

For a brief moment, Miles wondered whether Hobie was his replacement.

Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose and turned to Miles. "I'm sorry, Miles. I've just been preoccupied with Spider-woman stuff." You said, not going into further details.

His jealousy almost boiled over. "Cut the shit, ma. If you're busy jeepin' with some guy, just say that." Miles was exasperated as he threw his arms in the air.

In pure disbelief, you tried to tell him. "Miles, you got it twisted. I swear. I didn't mean to shut you out, I've been out on missions. You know how it is." You were no fool. You knew how it must've looked to Miles when he caught you with Hobie after disappearing for months. But you didn't want him thinking you had ditched him just to go fool around with some other guy.

You didn't want your friendship with him to end like this, nor did you want it to end at all. "Hobie's just my partner. We go on missions together. That's all we are." You continued to explain to Miles. While you could understand Miles' viewpoint, the guy you wanted was standing right in front of you.

Miles furrowed his brows at you and inquired, "So you aren't messin' with him?" You immediately replied, "For the last time, absolutely not!"

Miles nodded in approval, "Good. Does that mean you ain't gonna be mad at me if I do this?" He ominously questioned you. Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Do what?"

His gaze flickered to your lips as he lifted your chin with his hand, swiftly connecting your lips. Your lips slowly move together as ocean waves do. Removing his hold on your face, one hand traveled down to your waist to pull you in. You lifted your arms to wrap them around his neck.

Ever since he saw you again, his urge to press his lips to yours was undying. Those silent months caused plenty of built-up frustrations that he had wholeheartedly planned on taking out on your lips. He missed you. The way you felt against him, your voice, and the sweet aftertaste you left on his lips.

As the moments passed by, the heat you both felt was only getting more intense. He backed you against a wall of the tower, and you wrapped a leg around his waist to pull him in even further. One of his hands supported the leg that you encased around him, tracing circles into your thigh with his thumb.

Parting to catch a breath, you left kisses down Miles' neck. In between each one, you whispered an apology. "I'm really sorry. Promise I'll make it up to you, Miles." After you were done speaking, he only glanced down at you. Whispering back, he told you, "Talk less, ma." as he stole your breath yet again, pressing his lips to yours.

You supposed he was right. The two of you would have plenty of time to talk later, as it was apparent he wasn't letting you go anytime soon.

--------

tysm for reading!

taglist: @l5byrinth @11erinome11 @ulovejayy @laylasbunbunny @whatamidoing89 @kanvis @sophiaj650 @edgyficuselastica @spideys2cute @whatamidoing89 @beabadobee @sxributr @justhereforfunidk

lmk if u want to be added! honestly have no clue why the last few tags aren't working i am so sorry lmao

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miles morales spider man #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #prowler miles #spider man #friends to lovers #prowler!miles x reader #prowler miles morales #prowler x reader

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redr0sewrites · 1 year ago

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Sub!Sanemi Thirst<3

🥀Cw: smut, dry humping, overstimulation, cursing, rough dom reader, sub space, begging

🥀 minors dni

Sanemi is such a whiner. He's all bark and no bite, he acts so strong and untouchable yet crumbles at the slightest grind of your hips against his! sanemi acts so mean, he truly thinks hes in charge at all times- that is, until your fucking him senseless. its almost pathetic, hes cursing you out with tears in his eyes yet hes taking your cock so well, sucking you in like hes addicted to you- and truly, he is.

Gag him, tie him down, slap him, bite him, ruin him. He needs it fast and rough and hard, and he needs it to hurt. Sanemi is never satisfied unless he has an assortment of marks to show off the next day, bite marks and scratches littering his chest alongside the scars he wears so proudly.

praise him, degrade him, it doesnt matter to sanemi. he just needs to hear you, to feel you, he just needs you. whether your overstimulating him until hes a babbling mess, screaming your name like a prayer, or whether your edging him until his voice is cracking and hes almost- almost- begging you to fuck him, sanemi needs you to talk him through it every step of the way.

dont treat him like glass, he can take anything you give him. push him to the ground, step on his dick and only let him get off by grinding against your shoe. it's humiliating, he'll fight it at first but the sight of the oh so strong wind pillar humping your shoe like a bitch in heat is always worth the complaints he will throw at you. and believe me, he will complain. sanemi will bitch and curse and shout at you, yet the second you gag him and grab his neck roughly hes putty in your hands.

i think sanemis head gets really hazy during sex very easily, hes the type to enter subspace pretty quickly. the more confusing and overstimulating you make it for him, the more blissed out he becomes. treat him harshly, fuck him rough until hes practically sobbing but sing the sweetest praises to him until hes babbling in confusion. he barely knows what he wants, his brain is just so fuzzy, he cant even think :( or, if you prefer, you can treat him sweetly, fuck him slow and soft and press little kisses to his scars while you worship his body until hes feeling hazy, then start spitting out the cruelest words. call him your whore, your slut, your bitch in heat, anything and everything that comes to mind. he can't determine the difference between pain and pleasure anymore, and in either case will turn into a helpless needy whore from the stark contrast of your words and actions.

"f-fuck you!" sanemi spat at you, trying to squirm away as you snickered. he didnt get far before your foot returned to his crotch, pressing down roughly against the bulge in his pants. "imagine what the others would think if they saw you right now," you smirked, looking down at him as you spoke. sanemi's eyes squeezed shut at your words, and his hips bucked up instinctively against the toe of your boot as you applied pressure to his clothed dick. "oh? do you want them to see you? who knew, the mighty wind pillar is such a whore. grinding like a bitch in heat against my shoe." you sneered, moving your foot to press a little higher and sanemi whimpered. "ngh- shit" sanemi gasped out, hands clawing at the carpet as he desperately chased the friction you were supplying. you paused at the sound, looking down at his flushed face. his bare chest was heaving, and his hair was ruffled as he looked up at you, eyes already glazing over in pleasure. the eye contact made his cock twitch, and you began to move your foot ever so slightly. sanemi let out a choked moan, throwing his head back and bucking his hips again to grind against your shoe. "awww, your doing so good for me baby~ such a good boy, getting off like a little whore on my boot for me. your so pretty baby, such a needy little thing!" sanemi let out a sob at your words, his whole body tensing as the grinding of his hips grew more sporadic as his orgasm approached. he was humping your foot desperately, tears forming on his lashline as need began to ivercome his dignity. "fuck fuck fuck fu-unhhggh" he moaned desperately, the pleasure clouding his mind and making him feel all floaty. he could feel his release about to form, yet at the last second you pulled away. why were you being so mean? sanemi let out a soft sob at the loss of contact, and you cooed, moving to straddle him as you wiped tears from his face. his head was so hazy, he couldn't think straigh, not with the feeling of you pressing against his painfully hard cock. sanemi's hips jolted upright, dry humping you as he grinded desperately, begging for release. you smirked yet again, pinning his hips down and forcing his movements to a stop. fuck, you couldn't wait to ruin him

BARK BARK BARK I NEED HIM SO BAD IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CAGEEE URGHRHH THIS MANNNNNN

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jojikawa · 1 year ago

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Ice Cream & Kisses 🍨

Sukuna makes Yuuji agree to terms that involve visiting you more regularly.

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness), lewd/suggestive themes.

masterlist

Full Image + Artist: bikku__2

Yuuji found himself pretty exhausted from his excessive training at school, so when he finally got back to his dorm, he was just grateful to be in bed again. This is how things went for a while until he had taken Sukuna to meet you again for the first time. Now, he bothered Yuuji every night. The helpless boy was caught in the middle of a love that lasted thousands of years. The King of Curses thoughts of you bled into his own. It made Yuuji curious about what your relationship with Sukuna was like. On the surface, you seemed kind and gentle. Your voice was soft-spoken and you were utterly gorgeous as your beauty was unaffected by age.

Although, your sheep’s clothing didn’t change the wolf that was inside. You were the Goddess of Demons. The first woman, condemned by God themself and turned into the first woman-shaped demon. If Sukuna is supposed to be this terrifying threat, he couldn’t imagine what sort of threat you’d be. To be honest, he was just grateful that you are as docile as you come off to be. For now, at least.

So, when Ryomen Sukuna approached Yuuji with an offer, he wasn’t too on the fence about the whole thing.

“New rules, kid. Trust me, you’re gonna like them too.”

A mouth on the side of Yuuji’s face formed to utter these words. With his eyebrows knitted together, he replied “Whenever I agree to something with you, it never goes well. I don’t believe you when you say I’ll ‘like’ them either!” Then he proceeded to fold his pillow over to suffocate Sukuna’s mouth so that he could rest.

“Don’t you wanna lay your head down somewhere other than this shitty bed?!”

Suddenly, Yuuji became a bit self-conscious of the bed he had been lying in. The school beds were fine…right? However, he noticed how his back would hurt sometimes. Sukuna spoke his new terms to which Yuuji reluctantly agreed.

“You listen to me and you listen closely. After school, you go find her. I won’t ask again. Understood?”

It was the evening. You had spent nearly all day at the local elementary school before you walked the children to their routes as usual before going to your spacious apartment. The weather was distrustful. It was spring so it would rain, but some days it would be dry and others you’d even still feel the bitter cold of winter nipping at your cheeks and making them sore.

After your talk with Sukuna again, you expected him to take what you said seriously. You didn’t know how the two of you could be together with Yuuji always around. It was awkward. So, you wanted him to figure out his situation first. You dangled the possibility over his head the way you would a biscuit for a dog.

knock! knock! knock!

You had just sat down on your couch, hot cocoa in hand when you heard a series of knocks at your door. You hoped that it wasn’t your disturbing neighbor. Anything but her. Instead of setting your mug down, you took it with you to the door.

Upon opening it, you saw that it was—

“You found me again.” You smugly sipped your drink as you laid eyes upon Yuuji. A blush of embarrassment covered his face. “He made me come.” He couldn’t help but shut his eyes when he caught the sight of what you chose to wear. There was nothing sexual about it at all—really. It’s just that Sukuna’s filthy thoughts shouted over Yuuji’s innocent ones. Internally, he ushered the boy to open his eyes so that the King of Curses could see you in all of your glory.

“You can come in, I suppose.” You stepped aside, allowing the boy to come in. Getting inside, he took in the familiar warmth of the living space. It was cozy and suited for one person. Carpeted rugs, couches with fuzzy pillows, feminine-scented items, and lastly…demons?

“What is that!?” Yuuji yelled, pointing in disbelief at the small imp that was stalking him in the doorway of your kitchen. It was a small, ugly thing…looking like some sort of deformed animal. In its clawed hand was a can of febreeze that it dropped and ran away out of fear of the human, Yuuji.

“It’s getting away!” The boy added, causing you to laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. That's one of my little helpers. His name is Gnaar.”

“You just have those things running around? Isn’t that dangerous?” Yuuji frowned. You figured that he wasn’t able to differentiate curses and demons.

“No,” Your eyes rolled to the left, sipping more of your drink. “They’re harmless.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I know you didn’t come all this way for nothing. Feel free to have a seat.”

Yuuji then saw you sit your cup down and disappear into the kitchen. For a few moments, he sat in silence—or what seemed like it.

“You brat! Let me talk to her!”

Tired of his yelling, Yuuji gave control to Sukuna, trusting that you’d make him behave or else the student would suffer consequences from his teachers and probably all of Jujustu Society.

The King of Curses was able to take in his environment without being a passenger within the vessel. The way the room smelled was familiar and it reminded him so much of you. His eyes darted to the nearby mug you had been drinking from. Lazily picking it up, he sniffed it. It was chocolatey…then he proceeded to down the remaining contents before licking his lips. That was when you emerged from the next room. You had witnessed him setting the mug back down. Naturally, your eyebrows knitted together. Sukuna helping himself to your stuff was nothing new.

“Oh, Ryo. I was just making you a cup!” You scold him like an upset mother. Sukuna turned his head towards you, his mouth curling into a grin. He loved being annoying. To you—most of all. “What’s yours is mine.” He noticed that you were holding a tray. It had a fresh cup of hot cocoa and a bowl of…ice cream. In a moment, you were back on the couch next to him. It was nice to see you like this finally. You wore a sleeved white shirt that was appropriate for the weather, but it was low cut, showing off your cleavage. The shirt was cropped where it showed off your belly. As for your bottoms, you were wearing thick leggings that were tight enough to show your shapely body.

“Excuse me.” You handed him his mug of cocoa which he took. He had the entire thing in one gulp with no caution to the temperature. “Ah…HEY, GNAAR GET IN HERE!”

Gnaar came running in, tripping over his own hooves to heed Sukuna’s request.

“Don’t yell at him.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obedience. It was only slightly but you had become giddy with excitement. Gnaar took the empty dishes to the kitchen. “God, I missed that little freak.” He watched the imp stumble into the next room. “He certainly hasn’t missed you.” You replied as you reached for the ice cream. It was Neapolitan.

“I have something I want to share with you.” Instinctively, you scooted over towards Sukuna. On the inside, Yuuji felt his heart skip a beat when your thigh touched Sukuna’s. It was hard for him to believe that Sukuna could have his heart rate quicken at your actions.

“It doesn’t look like anything.” He faked a bored tone so that you’d continue. “It’s ice cream. Surely you’ve had it since this vessel has found you?”

His nose scrunched up. “No.” He replied flatly. Or maybe, he didn’t remember having it? He didn’t pay attention to the things Yuuji consumed so this would probably be his first time having modern ice cream.

“Then try some, Darling.”

Sukuna hadn’t even noticed how close you were to him now. He wasn’t used to the two of you being at eye level. The time you spent together was mostly you trying to navigate his large body. He missed the days when you’d climb onto his lap and he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him. But he liked this too. This was—normal.

Sukuna let you feed him the ice cream. It was only a spoonful but he already knew he liked it. It was cold but sweet. It sent a pleasant tingle to his cheeks that made him want to smile. He resisted this feeling, but couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. You patiently waited for his subtle expressions. You weren’t able to tell if he liked it or not.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

You placed a hand on your cheek. “Aw, so Ryo does like ice cream. But you have to eat it slowly.” You gave Ryo another spoonful. He grew impatient, demanding he feed himself. Of course, he gave himself a brain freeze doing so.

“I tried to warn you.” You watched as Sukuna held his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He muttered curses under his breath as he felt no relief and couldn’t bring himself to do anything else about it.

The bowl of ice cream was gone and simply a dish waiting to be taken away by Gnaar. Although, you grew concerned when it seemed like he wasn’t recovering from it. “Ryo~” Your arms snaked around his neck and you pulled his body towards you. Sukuna felt your lips press upon his temple and his cold headache magically disappeared.

“Do that again.”

On instinct, you rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

You placed a kiss on his temple again. Another on his cheek and then on his jaw. He reveled in your kisses. They felt like heaven; a reward for simply existing because existing is exhausting.

He almost wanted to return the favor. You see, Ryomen Sukuna isn’t exactly the best at reciprocating any love that wasn’t a display of power. He was the best at killing things, pleasing during sex, and scaring any man who dares to breathe in your direction…but kissing, cuddling, holding…that was your thing. Ryo hasn’t even said those sacred three words. He hoped that you could feel how pure his love is for you or at least, him killing your evil ex-husband aided in conveying his feelings. He genuinely believed he didn’t deserve you but he was too selfish to ever part from you.

Ryomen Sukuna wanted you all to himself.

“There. You should feel better now.” Your lips curved into a smile that brought him peace. The same thing kept running through his head. Things are “normal” now. Sukuna despised being inside the body of a punk like Yuuji but it surely had its perks.

“Can I kiss you?”

Normally, he wouldn’t need to ask but you were confused. Your lover looked as if he were in a daze. Your watchful eyes could see every micro-expression on his face but he still managed to make things hard to understand since he was always sure of himself. You expected more of a Kiss me or a very commanding I deserve my reward for being your husband but you entertained him nonetheless. Is he asking for permission? You just had to tease him.

“Just a kiss? Knowing you, you’d probably want to take it a step further but I don’t know…you’re not exactly my type anymore.” You stifled a laugh by placing your fingertips over your mouth. There it was again. A reminder that he wasn’t in his own body or at his pull strength. But it was fine. He enjoyed it.

He liked to know you preferred his true form when he thought about it. Sukuna felt so ugly in the Heian Era. Before you, the only things to satisfy him were wailing concubines and prostitutes who didn't enjoy his presence because of his huge body, four arms, and two mouths.

“What does it matter?!” He spat, behaving like a total tsundere at times. “That’s what you want anyway right?!” Oh, how he longed to be inside of you again.

“Hm..” Your eyes rolled to the left as you pretended to think. “I’m not sure. Two fewer arms wouldn’t be as fun in bed.”

“I can still please you.” He quipped.

“I guess you’ll have to prove it to me…but not—“

You were silenced by Sukuna’s lips being pressed to yours. It wasn't his usual hungry kiss where it felt like he was trying to devour your face. It was sweet—no, innocent…desperate, like if he stopped, you’d disappear like a moment in time. Your belly filled with butterflies, making you put your hands on his chest to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

It wasn’t until Sukuna finally pulled away that you got a breath of air. Even he was slightly panting at his actions. You’ve never experienced such raw emotions from him…you kinda liked it.

“Why even ask if you’re just gonna do it huh, Ryo?” You smirked, making him even more flushed than he already was. “Shut up.” He grumbled before running a hand through his hair. What did you expect? The two of you have been sitting here this long. How long is he supposed to go without it?

On the inside, Yuuji expected you to scold Sukuna but he saw you smile instead. You didn’t seem to take offense to the King of Curses telling you to shut up.

“I actually like it when you make the first move like that.” You scooted even closer and leaned your body against his. Whether you knew it or not, your chest was pressing up against his arm. “Do it again~!”

You were literally peak woman.

So, of course, he gave into your temptation. He couldn’t resist your plush lips. Especially after getting a taste just now. It was an open mouth kiss. He practically shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could taste the lingering ice cream on his lips and tongue.

Briefly, he would pull away just to nuzzle into your neck and take in your perfume. He was being romantic and he didn’t even realize it. It made you feel so wanted. Neither of you was able to fight the bottled-up feelings you had for each other.

Hi! hope you liked this part. I’m already working on the next part. I’ll be working in more Lilith themes to help expand on your relationship with Sukuna and also an explanation for “Adam” in future parts :3

#ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons #Sukuna x demon reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff

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itsa-me-lily · 2 months ago

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Would Simon ever get a pet of his own? I imagine it being unintentional if he does, first because he never wanted pets and then because he already has the pigs

Honestly I don't know about other species. I think, especially while he's going on so many missions, he leaves that to Reader, since she'll be the one handling any extra animals. And I don't know if she would go out of her way to get another type of pet like cats or dogs just because they can pose a risk to the pigs. Plus I picture their military issued home as this rather tiny place. All one floor where the front half of the house is the kitchen and living room and the back half the home office, the bedroom, and then the only bathroom. The military wanted these built fast and cheap.

If they didn't have the piggies? I could see Simon having a stray follow him home and then both Reader and whatever creature giving him the big pleading eyes, or Reader just flat out saying "Fuck you I'm a mother now".

So I know you were rooting for Simon having an emotional support turtle buuuuuuuuuuuuuut I can offer you this instead?

Note; this is part of the Simon & Thimble playlist

Here is the MPS AU masterlist

Simon Riley would not call himself an animal person by any means. Sure he liked them well enough, but he didn't find himself going out of his way for them, and before you and the pigs moved in, he didn't see himself living with any. But did now and well, it was pretty alright.

It was nice that when he came home at least two creatures there were excited to see him. Even if that probably had more to do with them hoping Simon would give them extra food than joy that he had come back in one piece, scrapes and bruises aside. And it was clear they made you so happy.

Simon had spent afternoons on the couch watching as you played with them, running through your trick routines, or just cuddling with them. And he may or may not have been debating on if he could teach them to come to a spot if he shined a laser pointer there. Just to see if it was possible.

You always spoke to them so gently, telling them how much you loved them, how important they were to you. He'd never say it to another person, but Simon was now glad that you weren't alone when he went on missions.

So no, Simon Riley wasn't an animal person, but he could appreciate the fuck out of those guinea pigs. Still didn't mean he knew what to do with the box that was sitting at his desk on base.

When you got home that evening, you were not expecting the scene you walked into, and honestly you didn't know how worried you needed to be. Sure you knew that Simon would probably be home. You knew that Jiji and Tombo would be home. You knew that all three knew co exists. You knew all this, and yet you weren't expecting the chaos that you saw.

Somehow both boys were out of their cage and running around, and Simon was doing...something in the kitchen? He was down in a squat cornering god knows what. You knew it wasn't the boys because you watched as Tombo shot under the couch, and Jiji was very rudely trying to eat a leg off the coffee table shoved under the TV.

Thankfully no one made an attempt at a jail break as you shut the door, though it did distract Simon as he raised his head to look at you, before realizing his took his eyes off his prey and cursing as it darted off to the space between the counter and the fridge.

"Uh...do I want to know-"

Before Simon could answer you he was trying to move the fridge, only for a terrified shrieking to come from the abyss of the crack beside it. It completely caught you off guard, and even made Jiji dive for under the coffee table. Sympathetic squeaks came from under the couch.

"Oh my god Simon, stop!"

You don't know if it was the volume of which you shouted at him, or the urgency in your tone, but thankfully he did, turning to stare at you like he had any right to look as confused as he did.

"Simon what the fuck is going on?"

"I was trying to introduce them all."

As much as you wanted to understand what was going through that man's brain, you had two furry potatoes to rescue first. Making your way over to the coffee table slowly, you tried to keep your eyes on both Jiji, who thankfully hadn't moved, and the couch, where unfortunately Tombo hadn't moved from.

"You are going to explain better once we have the boys back in their cage. Slowly walk towards the couch."

It seemed like Simon wanted to argue about whatever he had trapped by the fridge, but the look on your face must have convinced him otherwise because he did do as you told him to, putting his stealth skills to good use for once instead of scaring the shit out of you. Before he could do anything with the couch though you motioned for him to stop. You were too scared about scaring Tombo into a new hiding spot, or him accidentally getting hurt.

"Don't touch the couch. Just sit down and see if Tombo will come out to you."

Thankfully Simon continued to listen to you because he sat down quietly, though he kept his sights on the kitchen like a fucking pointer dog. But with that out of the way at least, you could swoop in and grab Jiji, who made his displeasure at being abducted from his delicious new snack. Even if he couldn't see, Tombo voiced his support of his brother. You ignored both protests.

Now safe in his cage, you could focus on your other wayward child, who did come out to Simon like you had hoped. It looked like you had to bring out the big guns then. Grabbing the container of pea flakes you gave it a single shake, both guinea pigs starting to loose their minds. If you didn't go partially deaf at the volume of their wheeking you'd be amazed.

Crouching down you have the container another shake, and thankfully Tombo came shooting out from under the couch, hurrying over to you as fast as his little legs could carry him. Totally acting like he was a good boy deserving treats, and totally not part of the chaos that had been happening. Of course you still gave them each a single flake once they were both in the cage. The shaker was only an effective call if you rewarded afterwards.

Alright, you had two of your boys handled, that only left the one now.

Simon hadn't moved from where you had told him to sit, his focus still on the kitchen. You tried to see what he was looking at as you took the few steps needed to reach him, but before you could demand answers as to what the hell was going on, you finally saw what it was that had been practically screaming in your kitchen.

"Is that a baby guinea pig?"

"Little bastard finally came out-"

"Wait-"

You grabbed Simon's shoulder just as he was starting to get up, causing you, him, and the guest in the kitchen to freeze. It wasn't that you two never touched. You lived together, it had to happen now and again. But they were always more along the lines of handshakes, where both parties could decide to participate or not. Deliberate. Not random unthinking actions. Simon didn't seem like he enjoyed random unthinking touches. You pulled your hand away, hoping you somehow didn't do something completely unforgiveable.

"You're gonna scare him off again if you move too quickly."

Simon didn't storm off as soon as you had let go of him, in fact he hadn't moved at all since you had grabbed at him like that. Hopefully it meant that he was listening to what you were saying. With a nervous swallow you tried shaking the pea flake container again, ignoring the demanding calls behind you.

With baited breath you both watched as the guinea pig came out a little further. It was such a tiny thing, probably half the size of Jiji and Tombo, practically made your heart melt. Swallowing you decided to test your luck.

"Give me your hand, lets see if we can bribe him over here."

Luck was apparently on your side because Simon gave you his hand like an obedient dog, and you were able to put a few flakes in the center of his palm. Simon's ability to be silent came in use yet again as he set his hand against the ground. Now all you could do was wait.

You had no idea how long the two of you were by your couch, just watching to see what this little creature would do. But thankfully the chaotic part of the evening was coming to a close as you watched the grey and white pig bravely made its way across the kitchen to the living room, too enticed by what you assumed was the smell of the teat.

As soon as it was within reach, Simon was grabbing the pig by its middle and hoisting it up into the air, much to its loud chagrin. Again you moved without thinking, your hands move to cup around Simon's and the pig, supporting both it's little feet and trying to get Simon to release his grip.

"Gentle, gentle. You can let go. I got him."

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding when you felt the guinea pig's weight settle in your hand. You didn't realize that you still had Simon's hand within your grip until he was clearing his throat because you were cradling both the pig and his hand to his chest.

"Fuck, shit sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine."

It didn't sound totally fine, and you wanted to keep babbling apologies until it was clear that you hadn't pushed some unspoken boundary beyond repair. But then you felt tiny nails scratching against the collar of your shirt and it had to take back seat. Settling down onto the floor you tried to calm down the little creature, speaking softly and just trying to shield it in your hands, while ignoring the prickling sensation of Simon watching you.

It didn't normally feel like this did it?

Once the new pig stopped struggling against your chest, you felt like you could finally circle back to all the questions you had tried to ask before.

Apparently another lieutenant had just dropped off the guinea pig on Simon's desk. His kid hadn't wanted it after a few weeks and he had heard the Simon's wife, you, liked them, so he had figured that you'd take care of it. And then Simon had thought that he could just place the new pig in the cage, but it had jumped out of his hands before he could set it in. When chasing it didn't seem to work he thought if he brought Jiji and Tombo out then they'd help draw the little one out. Only they hadn't, so you came home to Simon trying to wrangle all the guinea pigs backs before you noticed.

It was all so...harebrained, plus the deadpan way that Simon explained it all, mixed in with your new found anxiety, you couldn't help but laugh. At first it was just you, but after a few seconds you could hear a low raspy chuckle join in as you both finally relaxed after the insanity that had consumed your household. And once you started it took a while to stop. As soon as you both seemed to get a handle of yourselves someone would squeak and it'd just send you both into another fit. Your ribs were practically burning by the time you finally could stop for good. You were pretty sure you were also crying.

Looking down at your chest you were glad to see that apparently your new pig seemed to have calmed down at least a little, no longer quite trembling in your hold.

"What should we name you hmm?"

"I was thinking Baker. So he matches the other two."

Simon's suggestion confused you, head tilted as you looked back up at him.

"Huh?"

"The other two got named after that movie you like. And the only other guy is the baker."

You didn't expect the funny feeling in your chest at his explanation. You had forced Simon to watch Kiki's Delivery Service with you once when he had asked why you had named the boys as you had. You didn't expect him to have actually paid attention, or even remember any of the characters.

You weren't looking back down at the guinea pig to avoid meeting Simon's gaze. He was just a really cute guinea pig.

"Yeah...yeah if he's a boy sure."

"If?"

You didn't expect to explain how sexing a guinea pig worked to your husband, but he listened. He also listened when you explained that introducing the new pig would be a long process. Thankfully you still had a small starter cage from years ago when you first got Jiji and Tombo and didn't know how much space they'd really need. With the power of teamwork, which was really Simon setting up the cage while you sweet talked your newest baby, you had Possibly Baker all set up for the night.

Once you were sure that every pig was safe and sound, and not likely to make any escape attempts, you looked at Simon with a grim face.

"Alright, we gotta go scrub everything and our selves down now."

"Why?"

"Cause he for sure has ring worm."

Edit

Yes this is a monster. No I don't regret it.

Also this is what our newest baby looks like

#military program spouse #cod #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #guinea pig #mps asks #Simon x Thimble #ghost x reader

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