#internally squeaks and covers face

[ieirism]

intertwined. | preview

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

setting: omegaverse!au, university!au

genre: angst, smut, some fluff

contains: yandere, estranged childhood friends to enemies to lovers, mentions of self-identity issues, dubious consent, obsessive behavior, loss of virginity, mutual(ish) pining, gojo is bad at expressing his feelings so he’s kinda a jerk, lovesick!gojo

summary: you just want to lose your virginity, no strings attached. how could you have known that gojo satoru is in love with you?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

release date: tbd | ask for taglist if interested

-

“I want you to take my virginity.”

Satoru’s cocky grin wipes clean off his face. His stare goes blank and his jaw drops open comically wide. For the first time in the twenty-one years you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru is at a loss for words.

“We never have to talk again afterwards,” you add quickly, your cheeks starting to heat up in embarrassment. “This is just gonna be a one-time thing.”

Satoru is silent, expression tense as he observes you carefully. His crystal blue eyes seem to darken a few shades as he takes your hand in his. His thumb strokes once, slowly over the back of your knuckles.

“Just a one-time thing,” he repeats languidly, lips stretching into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Perhaps if you weren’t so focused on the rapid, frantic beating of your own heart, you would’ve noticed Satoru’s gaze wander—only to lock right on the clear patch stubbornly covering your neck’s scent gland. You would’ve seen the way his pupils dilate and his tongue swipes over his lips, with hunger written all over his face.

“Well then,” he all but rasps out, voice thick with desire. Without warning, he pulls your body against his with ease, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. Satoru rests his forehead against yours, letting out a groan that is too soft, too vulnerable, too intimate.

He’s so big, you realize. You can hardly believe that you once stood a whole head taller than him. Satoru towers over you, his lean frame completely dwarfing you. His large hands squeeze at your waist as he presses a barely-there, tender peck to your forehead.

You feel like you can’t breathe.

“I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, sweetheart.”

You’ve heard stories about what he’s like in bed; it’s inevitable that as the most desired alpha on campus, he’s gotten around. You don’t expect tenderness or care; if you did, Gojo Satoru is the dead last person to approach. You’re waiting for him to start man-handling you, tearing your clothes off, chasing after the carnal pleasure that only sex can bring. You’ve prepared yourself for that.

Instead, Satoru cups your pretty face between his large hands, running his thumb along your cheekbone. His blue eyes are a swirling pool of emotions, burning with not only lust but something deeper. “Been waitin’ so long for this.” His hushed whisper falls on deaf ears as he leans in to kiss you.

You let out a surprised squeak as his lips press against yours; this isn’t how things are supposed to go. You’re not here to play romance with Satoru—yet, the slow gentle kisses he’s giving you and the gentleness with which he’s holding you are cutting it too close.

“W-Wait,” you gasp out, pulling away to catch your breath. Satoru is panting too, cheeks flushed pink as he stares at you like a man dying of thirst discovering an oasis. His hand trails down your side to rest on your waist, pulling himself forward so he can drop his head against your shoulder. “What are y—“ your words die in your throat as you feel his nose nudge against the most vulnerable part of you.

“You smell so fuckin’ good…” His groan against your neck reverberates through your entire body, shaking you to your very core. Your internal alarm flares to life, blaring loudly in warning. You can’t even pay much attention to that, though, not when—

“Y-You do, too…” The words leave you before you can even process them. You knees feel like jelly as his scent washes over you, deep, musky and addicting. Satoru stiffens against you, huffing out a short breath of frustration.

“You’re gonna kill me.” You feel it. You feel his teeth scrape against the spot your mating bond would be. Satoru knows just as well as you do that you don’t have one, and that if you had things your way, that would never change. He teases the edge of the bandage covering your scent gland, rolling it between his teeth. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging nervously.

“N-Not there,” you protest, stumbling over your words in panic. Satoru pauses, and for three very long seconds, neither of you move. The only thing you can hear the is the pounding of your own heartbeat, his shallow pants against your neck, and the hum of the air conditioning.

He’s close, too close—you’re terrified of what he’s capable of, only because you don’t know if you can count on your own willpower to stop him. You’re slowly going limp in his arms, becoming nothing but putty in between his fingers—you’ve never felt so weak.

You hate how he makes you feel. You’ve always hated how he makes you feel. Weak. The world has always told you that you are. You’re nothing but a little omega whose only fate is to be a strong alpha’s obedient mate. You’ve fought back, resisted, protested—yet, Gojo Satoru has always managed to put you right back in your place.

This time is no different. Once again, you find yourself at his mercy. Your stomach boils with bitterness, with anger, with hatred… with longing.

Too slowly, he pulls away from your neck, only to lock eyes with you. “Right.” Satoru’s lips quirk into a crooked grin. “This is just a one-time thing, huh?”

You recognize that smile.

It’s the one that Satoru gave when he broke his mama’s favorite vase and blamed the cat. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he stole a candy bar from the store and got caught by the cashier. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he claimed you were no more than a stranger and left you to fend for yourself through high school.

He’s lying.

Far too late, you realize you’d made a big mistake.

-

author’s note: i can’t even lie this little word vomit was just a way to get some gojo thirst off my chest. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever get around to writing a full fic because i’ve been planning this in my head for weeks and there’s so much i want to include. yet i have too little time because of uni :(

if you are interested in being part of a taglist just in case i ever actually get around to writing the full fic, just let me know in the replies.

thank you for reading this far :)

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Idk who i want this ask for other than Firefly, but an S/O who’s such a light weight that basically one sip of alcohol gets them spouting about how much they love their girlfriend.

(H:SR/Genshin Impact) Firefly, Arlecchino, Rosaria, Chiori, Xinyan, Clorinde and Dehya with a drunk S/O being overly affectionate

I don't even need to be drunk to do that for Firefly

Firefly lets out a sound that could be interpreted as a squeak, laugh, or cry of embarrassment. The answer was probably a mixture of all three.

Firefly wasn't that easily affected by alcohol due to her genetic engineering, but she wanted to tag along with S/O just to spend time. She swore they just tasted the drink before they started loudly exclaiming how adorable she was.

Sure enough, one glance over to their glass and it was still completely full, making her pout.

(Firefly) "S-S/O! Please lower your voice! It's a little embarrassing hearing all that out loud-"

(S/O) "But how else is everyone going to know what a cutie you are? That face right now is sooooo pretty...Wait, you're right, it only belongs to ME!-"

Firefly lets out a quiet sigh. At least she couldn't argue that S/O didn't love her so much.

(S/O) "Even when you wear your armor, you're my Firefly, not SA-"

Firefly's hand instantly moves to S/O's mouth, covering it before they could continue, eyes rapidly darting left and right.

(Firefly) "Okay, we're going home!"

The bar watches as this tiny woman manages to lift S/O over her shoulders with zero issue out the door.

Arlecchino watches with silent amusement as she hears what's so great about herself.

Would Arlecchino use any of the terms S/O was shouting out into the room to describe herself? Archons, no.

But...it was endearing to hear S/O think so highly of her.

Tracing the edge of her glass with one finger, Arlecchino hums as she sips her wine.

(Arlecchino) "Would you tell anyone else of how you felt about your 'lovely' girlfriend?"

(S/O) hic! "To the world, I'll shout about her on the top of the city!"

Slowly, her eyes trailed down to their glass. They haven't even got it to halfway.

(Arlecchino) "How entertaining..."

(S/O) "H-hey...! Are you making fun of my affection for my Arle!? DO YOU WANNA FIGHT?!"

With an eyebrow raised, she turns back to S/O.

(Arlecchino) "You are aware of who you're speaking to, correct?"

(S/O) "Some punk who's making fun of my girlfriend! I don't care that you look like her, I won't let you insult her!"

(Arlecchino) "...Maybe we should pour you a less alcoholic beverage next time."

(Rosaria) "Oh good gods no."

Sure Dandelion Wine was strong, but it couldn't be strong enough to knock S/O flat on their ass like this, right?

(S/O) "Your eyes are so pretty too...the way they look like you want to-"

(Rosaria) "Okay, I get it, thank you. Don't finish that."

As annoying as their volume was, especially considering people were giving her and S/O looks, this was pretty damn funny.

And also sweet, she had no idea they had this much love stored for her.

Part of her feels bad, she hadn't even done that much to deserve such praise.

Rosaria just chuckles and reaches out a hand to rustle their hair, which they hum at the cute gesture.

(S/O) "See?! Just like that, you're such a darling!"

(Rosaria) "Not the word I'd use, but sure."

(S/O) "I can use a hundred different words to-"

(Rosaria) "Do not."

(Chiori) "Ew."

Chiori would not use any of these terms to describe herself, much less anyone else.

To have S/O use pet names like "sweetie-pie" or "honey-bunches" was having her internally cringe to the point she might die.

(S/O) "Hey, don't you say ew about my girlfriend!" hic! "I-I'LL KICK YOUR ASS!"

Now that got Chiori to laugh, one hand rushing to her mouth as she fails to contain her own volume.

(Chiori) "You'd kick your girlfriend's ass, S/O?"

(S/O) "Huh...? NO! I LOVE HER, I WOULD NEVER LAY A HAND ON HER!"

(Chiori) "Then check who you're talking to."

(S/O) "No, this is some mindgame! She'd just tell me that it was her and not play around! She's too honest!"

Well, at least they were right about that part.

Next time she should pour them a shot glass of sake, if one sip from not even a full cup was enough to get them riled up like this, Chiori wouldn't have wasted so much.

(Xinyan) "K-Keep your voice down, yer gettin' rowdier than my guitar!"

(S/O) "Yeah, and you're SOOOO hot with the guitar too! You shreds it and...and...shreds it!-"

(Xinyan) "For the love of...!-"

Xinyan gets extremely flustered with S/O screaming about how lovely of a woman she is.

Which would be great, if half the Harbor couldn't hear them at this very moment.

She wants to hide away to avoid all the stares, but at the same time Xinyan wants to give S/O the best kiss she can.

She was always so insecure about herself, but to hear S/O's unfiltered love for her was something she could never have prepared for.

...Probably because they were shouting it, but regardless, it was enough to get her to tear up from love and embarrassment!

(Xinyan) "S-Sshhh! I'm beggin' ya, S/O! Tell me how much ya love me when ya ain't so loud!"

(S/O) "You want me to whisper my love for you?"

(Xinyan) "Yea-"

Xinyan then thought about that sentence for a few seconds.

(Xinyan) "...N-NO!"

She honestly forgets about the drinks in their hands, being too preoccupied with S/O.

Clorinde flushes red, and not because of the alcohol.

Thank Archons they drank at home and away from the media vultures, because the things they were doing was mortifying.

To both her, and themselves.

(Clorinde) "...D-Dear, that's enough drinking."

They were nuzzled into her chest, noises of approval coming out as they cuddled closer.

She had to stop their hand reaching for the drink, or more accurately, stop it from spilling over.

(S/O) "You're really strong, you know that?"

Clorinde lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing their hair.

(Clorinde) "I have been told on occasion that my skills are-"

(S/O) "And you're so pretty...! And smell nice...!"

(Clorinde) "...That, less so."

(S/O) "Your chest is super big too...and pretty...!"

(Clorinde) "...I wish I have heard that one less."

Alright, romantic mood over. She moves them off her, though their whine almost made her rescind her actions.

But they needed to sleep. Or at least get ready for the worst hangover from a single sip.

Dehya is laughing in both disbelief and from second-hand embarassment.

As shy as she was getting from the heartfelt compliments, it was more the fact S/O was shouting so loud the other mercs could hear them and began laughing that made her feel antsy.

They would never never live this down, especially because they drank a couple sips from the wine they bought.

But damn if this wasn't funny/cute.

(Dehya) "Hm...what else do you love about me S/O? I'm open to hear them.~" And so is the rest of the camp, apparently.

(S/O) "You're so tough and kickass and..." hic "And super cute!"

(Dehya) "Cute? Not hot?"

(S/O) "Nah! The way you're so happy applying...the...the makeup thingy, its really cute!"

Now she was the one getting silent, and all red in the face.

(Dehya) "I-Is that right? Dunno if I should be happy or angry about that."

People complimented her physical attributes, perhaps a little too much, but this was the first time it was flat out ignored.

Especially since this was S/O speaking from the heart.

[pure-smut]

iron wall.

featuring: Takanobu Aone x f!reader

contains: some angst to fluff to smut, happy ending!!, tattoo artist!Aone, social anxiety!reader, thigh riding, fingering(ish), missionary, NOT an accurate representation of getting a tattoo (call it creative liberties)

word count: 3.7k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: I'm sorry, I love Aone so much, he's so babygirl!! I'm a sucker for a gentle giant so I needed to get this story down I love him

You’re so excited for your first tattoo. So excited you could throw up, in fact. Oh wait, no, you’re terrified.

The tattoo studio does nothing to soothe your nerves. It’s a small space, seeming all the more cramped for artwork covering every inch of wall and shelf space. You try your hardest not to shrink into yourself.

And then your tattoo artist steps out and a year of social aversion therapy dwindles into nothing.

Takanobu Aone is one of the best artists in the country and you’ve been so, so lucky to get a spot with him. You researched hard, not trusting your first tattoo in the hands of anyone less than perfect. When you saw Aone’s portfolio online, you knew he was the one. Beautiful linework and sweeping designs that seemed to mould to the person’s body. You fell in love with his art.

But his portfolio didn’t have any pictures of him. So when he steps out and greets you with a silent nod, you nearly shrivel up on the spot.

Aone is scary. He’s tall, broad, and – unsurprisingly – coated in tattoos. A seemingly permanent frown is etched on his face, his ice blonde hair cut short. But it’s his eyes – it’s like he’s glaring at you.

“Sorry,” you squeak out before internally scolding yourself.

Sorry?? What are you apologising for? No one’s said anything yet!

If Aone’s confused, he doesn’t show it. He only gestures to an intimidating-looking chair, fitted with an overhead lamp.

Your hands shake so you clench them into fists. You can do this, you tell yourself. This was the whole point of your tattoo. On wobbly legs, you make your way over to the chair and sit down.

Aone looks down at you. You look back up at him. When neither of you says anything, he twirls his finger in the air.

“Oh!”

Idiot, you think to yourself. It’s a back tattoo – he needs to see my back.

You turn around, your chest pressed against the back of the chair, as Aone sits behind you. Even without seeing him, his presence is so large that you feel it. You take a shuddering breath as you hear the buzz of the needle and squeeze your eyes shut.

The tattoo hurts, like a relentless, stinging scratch against your skin. But honestly? You thought it would be worse. Still, the nerves haven’t dissipated yet, and nausea swirls in your stomach. Especially when you feel Aone’s hands on your skin, resting against your back as he works.

“You’re doing well.”

Aone’s voice is so sudden and unexpected that you nearly jump. It takes a second for you to register what he’s said but when you do, warmth rushes to your cheeks.

“Th-thanks,” you stammer out.

“Will music help you to relax?”

His voice is deep and smooth. You’re glad you’re facing away from him because you don’t want him to see the blush in your cheeks just from listening to him speak.

You tell him your favourite songs and he sets up a playlist. By the time he starts up the tattoo again, you are feeling more relaxed. It helps that you don’t need to look him in the face, that you don’t need to mould your reactions to what you think is right. Every so often, Aone will let you know how well you’re sitting for him and each time, it makes your body feel like it’s on fire.

By the time he’s finished, you’re nearly dizzy.

Aone must notice because he offers his hand to help you stand. You take it, gratefully, but keep your eyes averted, too embarrassed to look him in the face.

“First tattoos are hard,” he says solemnly and you’re glad he thinks it’s the tattoo that’s had an effect on you and not him.

Aone hands you his card as you pay up. It has a list of tattoo care instructions as well as his phone number and socials.

“Any problems, contact me,” he says.

You finally look up at him. What you had thought had been a glare before now looks completely different. Aone’s eyes are sharp but they’re kind, his face serious but concerned. Under the intensity of his gaze, you find it suddenly hard to breathe.

You want to thank him, to tell him you’ll be happy to contact him if anything comes up. To say anything normal at all.

But an iron wall wraps around your chest. You don’t want to say anything stupid or embarrassing. So you give a short nod and leave without saying anything at all.

*

It’s only a few days before your tattoo starts to itch. You diligently cream it as Aone’s card instructed you but the position of the tattoo means you can’t reach all of it. There’s a patch in the middle that’s neglected and so, so goddamn itchy.

After all the research, effort and money spent, you desperately don’t want your new tattoo to heal badly. But you have no one to ask for help. It’s your own fault, you know. You’ve spent the years since you left home for college isolating yourself from everyone. Too worried about saying the wrong thing or doing something embarrassing. Too concerned over whether people are laughing at you instead of with you.

And now you’re stuck with an itchy tattoo that you can’t fully reach.

Aone’s card sits innocently on your desk, almost taunting you. It takes another two days before you gather up the courage to tap out a message to Aone.

He responds within minutes with instructions to come to the studio.

That’s how you end up back in the chair, your favourite songs playing again, too embarrassed to look behind you at Aone.

“The itch is worse than the pain,” he says, rubbing cool, soothing cream gently over your tattoo.

Despite yourself, you smile. Maybe it’s your favourite music in the background, maybe it’s the fact you don’t need to look at him. Maybe it’s the feel of his gloved fingers being so gentle on your skin. For once, you don’t overthink before you speak.

“The pain wasn’t so bad after a while,” you say quietly. “But the itching goes on forever.”

Aone chuckles. It catches you off guard – you wonder what he looks like when he’s smiling.

You sit in comfortable silence for a while.

“This is so embarrassing…” you mumble to yourself.

“What is?”

You startle, not realising he heard you. Your cheeks burn.

“O-oh… just… y’know, all of this,” you say clumsily.

“All of what?”

“I-” A lump appears in your throat. You realise how stupid you sound. “I can’t reach my tattoo.”

A puff of air escapes Aone’s nose.

“Not embarrassing,” he says. “I fainted during my first tattoo. That is embarrassing.”

The image of Aone – broad, muscled, serious-faced Aone – fainting during a tattoo is so unexpected you snort with laughter.

“You didn’t!”

“I did,” he says gravely. “I was too nervous to eat breakfast so my blood sugar was low.”

Aone withdraws his hands to lean in close. You can feel the warmth radiating off him on the back of your neck and shoulder. When he speaks, his breath tickles your cheek.

“They had to give me a lollipop.”

You burst out laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth. Aone chuckles and stands, snapping his gloves off. You rise with him, still giggling, and get a glimpse of his smile for the first time.

It’s small, just an uptick at the corner of his mouth, but you can’t stop looking.

“Next time you feel embarrassed, remember the lollipop,” Aone says with a firm nod.

You grin, meeting his eyes. Inside you, a small chip skitters down the iron wall.

A crack.

*

Aone tells you to come back every day at the same time for a week, until your tattoo heals. You find yourself looking forward to it and you end up chatting long after he’s finishing creaming your back. You wonder if this is it – you’ve beaten the insecure demon inside your head.

Until one day you don’t.

It’s the last day you’re scheduled to visit Aone’s studio. Maybe that’s the reason why a stab of icy fear lodges itself in your heart every time you try and open the door to leave.

You stand at your front door, key in the lock, but your hand is frozen. Your breathing turns ragged and your vision swims. You can’t turn the key. You can’t leave your home. Your sanctuary. The only safe space you know.

Except Aone’s studio.

Except Aone.

You know you’re going to be late but still, you can’t bring yourself to leave. With shaking hands, you message Aone, apologising and saying you won’t make it. He messages back instantly.

Are you okay?

You don’t know what prompts you to respond honestly. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from fighting the anxiety in your head. Maybe it’s because Aone has always been sincere with you. Maybe it’s because you don’t have to look at him when you respond.

Maybe the iron wall is breaking.

No, you type back.

He asks for your address, saying he’ll come to you. After chewing your thumbnail down to the quick, you give it and throw your phone onto the other side of the bed.

You barely have the energy to drag yourself from your bed when the doorbell rings. You know you should feel embarrassed opening the door in your pyjamas, hair unbrushed and eyes puffy with no sleep. But when Aone steps in, face serious, and pulls out a lollipop, the only thing you feel is relief.

You burst into tears as Aone pulls you into his arms, pressing you against his chest. He’s firm and warm and holds you tight. He doesn’t say anything. He lets you soak the front of his shirt with your tears.

When you’ve cried yourself dry, your sobs dwindling into sniffles, Aone pulls back to peer down at you.

“Food?”

You spend the day with takeout, watching movies together on your laptop in bed. You sneak glances at him every so often, admiring his profile, and have to quickly look away every time he notices. It should be embarrassing… but you know he’s looking at you too. You can feel his intense gaze when you’re watching the movie, can feel him watching you when you get up to go to the bathroom.

When you return, instead of lying side-by-side, you turn your back to him, pulling the laptop in front of you. Aone turns to spoon you, wrapping one large arm around your stomach. You melt into him, immediately relaxed.

It reminds you of being in his chair, faced away from him but knowing he’s there.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the movie. “I know I get too nervous and say weird stuff.”

“What weird stuff?” You can’t see him but you can hear the frown in his voice.

“Like…” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Like when I first met you, I didn’t even say hi. I said sorry, for some weird reason.”

Your mouth goes dry as you recall your first embarrassing memory with Aone. The one that still keeps you up at night as you replay it, thinking about how awkward you looked and how weird he must think you are.

“That wasn’t weird,” Aone says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “People think I’m scary. They don’t sit next to me on the train and they apologise when they meet me.”

You blink at the laptop, twisting slightly so you can look at Aone. He looks back at you.

“They do?”

He nods.

“You’re not weird. You’re normal.”

Aone says it with absolute sincerity. You think on this for a moment before fully turning, facing him. Aone settles his hand on your waist, his sharp eyes locked on yours.

You’re normal.

A rush of relief floods through you and your eyes water, nearly bursting into tears again. Aone notices because he tightens his grip on you, his hand on standby to brush away any tears.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him. “I’m okay.”

And it’s true. It’s the most okay you’ve felt in a long time. A flood of affection clouds your mind and you look up at him to smile.

“Thank you for rescuing me today,” you tell him.

“Always,” Aone says seriously.

It’s only one word but it steals your breath. You feel like you’re falling. You grip onto the front of his shirt, anchoring yourself.

One word and your iron wall crumbles.

You tilt your head up until Aone’s face is only inches from yours. You’re offering yourself up, offering your heart on a platter, open and vulnerable. You close your eyes and wait, blood rushing in your ears.

Aone moves his hand up from your waist to cup your face. His skin is hot against yours and you can feel his heart beating through his chest.

“Always,” he whispers once more before he closes the gap between you.

Aone presses his lips softly against yours. Your hands snake around his torso, feeling the hard muscle of his back. His lips part yours gently, cautiously, wary not to pressure you too much. You let him, meeting his tongue with your own and melting into him.

Aone uses one arm to wrap around your back, pulling your body flush to him as his other hand grips your thigh. He tugs your leg over his, nestling his thick thigh between your legs, and pressing against your mound. You gasp lightly into his mouth.

Aone pulls back, eyes opening.

“Is this okay?” he asks, searching your face for any sign you’re uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “It’s… it feels good.”

You try hard not to grind against his thigh but when he leans down to kiss you again, you find your hips moving on their own. His firm muscle pressed against your clothed pussy makes your clit throb with need. You haven’t felt this turned on by anyone in a long time, your sex drive long since evaporated. But Aone is awakening something inside you, a heat in your stomach unfurling.

You hold onto his shoulder, solid as a rock, and grind against his thigh.

Aone trails his hand down to your hip, his grip gentle but firm.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, reluctant to break the kiss.

“Mhmm.” You catch his bottom lip lightly between your teeth. “I’m sure.”

Aone hardens his grip on your hip, guiding you as you rub your clothed pussy against his thigh. The friction is delicious, sending little sparks up through your body and soaking the crotch of your panties and pyjama shorts. You’re forced to break the kiss to bury your face in his chest, whimpering.

He’s bringing you close to the edge, so, so close. But it’s not enough.

“More,” you practically beg him. “I need more. Please.”

Aone grunts and rolls you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. He’s large enough that you’re spread lewdly beneath him, thighs open. It would normally make you flustered – embarrassed – but it doesn’t.

Because it’s okay. It’s Aone.

He looks at your with stars in his eyes as his hand reaches down, sliding under the waistband of your shorts and panties. Your hips buck as his fingers find your swollen clit, slippery with your arousal. He traces small, featherlight touches around your sensitive bud. Aone knows his own strength and he’s always cautious of being too rough. He watches your face carefully to see your reaction, applying slightly more pressure until your nails sink into his biceps.

“There!” you gasp. “Fuck, right there. I’m so close.”

Aone listens, his cock straining against his jeans. You would normally feel your cheeks burn under the intensity of anyone’s gaze, let alone Aone’s, but you’re too caught up in the pleasure he’s giving you to care. His fingers are relentless, keeping up a steady pace, no faster or slower than exactly what you need.

When your back arches and your mouth falls open, Aone dips his head to swallow your moan, kissing you deeply through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping. It’s only when you pull away, too sensitive to continue, that he withdraws his hand.

But he can’t stop kissing you. Your soft lips and the taste of the lollipop he brought you still on your tongue. Aone knows you’ve opened yourself to him, he knows you’ve summoned every ounce of courage you have. He feels like he has a baby bird in his hands and he’s scared to hold you too tight. To crush the precious thing you’ve given him.

So when you come down from your high, he makes to roll off you, not thinking of himself or his throbbing cock.

You stop him, hands on his biceps and wrapping your legs around his hips.

“I want you,” you whisper, voice hoarse from moaning. “All of you.”

Aone searches your face for any uncertainty. He only sees your eyes alight, holding his gaze firmly. He thinks back to your first arrival in his studio, when he couldn’t even tell what your face really looked like, you kept your eyes so averted. The corner of his mouth upticks with pride.

You reach up to wrap one hand around the nape of his neck, carding your fingers through his short, white-blonde hair as your other hand reaches down to his jeans. He helps you unbutton them, tugging them down along with his boxers and throwing them both off the side of the bed. Aone straightens to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. Tattoos decorate his thick torso, artwork following the curves and dips of his body. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not even hiding how absolutely, completely attracted to him you are.

Aone’s expression doesn’t change much but his eyes glint and you know he’s pleased by your reaction. He reaches down, hooking his thumbs under the hem of your pyjama top and tugging it off. He gazes down at you, face soft, his eyes tracing over your body.

You’d normally be fighting the urge to cover yourself but you don’t feel the need to do that with Aone. You want him to look at you.

Aone leans down to pepper soft kisses down your neck, to your breasts. One large hand massages your tit, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It’s like your nipple is directly connected to your clit, making it throb with every touch. Aone sucks your other nipple, mouth hot against your skin as his teeth lightly graze you. It’s electrifying. You can feel yourself getting wetter, a scorching heat between your legs.

You need him inside you.

You tug on the roots of his hair gently, pulling his face back up to yours. Aone kisses you deep and slow, one hand reaching down to line his cock up with your entrance. You can feel the fat mushroom tip nudging between your folds. You pull your knees up, wrapping your legs around his hips to give him better access.

Aone pulls back from the kiss. You chase his lips with your own but he cups your cheek, holding you away.

“I want to see your face,” he says.

 He locks eyes with you and pushes himself inside.

Your mouth falls open and your brows scrunch in the middle as Aone slides his cock into your tight hole. You’re more than wet enough for him but his cock is as thick as the rest of him, stretching you with a burn that’s half pleasure, half pain. You whimper, eyes squeezing shut as Aone shallowly pumps himself inside you, going a little deeper each time. Each stroke of his cock sets your nerves on fire, sparks running through your whole body to the tips of your fingers and toes.

“Holy shit,” you grit out. “You’re – ah! – You’re so b-big.”

“Are you okay?” Aone stops still. “Are you in pain?”

You shake your head, wrapping your legs tighter around him.

“Don’t stop,” you beg him.

He gives a short nod and keeps going, slowly working himself deeper until he’s bottomed out. Aone waits there for a while, letting you adjust to the size of him. You’re desperate for more friction, your pussy clenching him tight.

“You…” He collapses onto his forearms, burying his face in your neck.

His hand tangles in your hair at the back of your head, holding you to him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes. “You’re doing so well.”

Aone’s praise sends a thrill up your spine, so reminiscent of the first time you met. He presses his mouth against the shell of your ear.

“I’m going to move, okay?” His voice is hoarse.

You nod and he starts to pull back, keeping his body pressed against yours. It should feel smothering, his large body covering yours, but instead it feels safe. Secure.

Aone keeps a steady pace, not pulling out all the way before thrusting back into you. Your greedy pussy pulling him back in every time, your plush walls squeezing him, not wanting to let him go. His cock rubs against the sensitive spot inside you, the trimmed hair at the base stroking delicious friction against your clit. The combination is indescribable. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to roll back again, your orgasm building faster than you can register.

Aone can feel it. The way your tight pussy gets even tighter, the whimpers you make from the back of your throat, the way your thighs squeeze his hips. He can’t get enough of it. He wants to last as long as possible so he can stay here forever. Stay with you, like this, forever. But the way you’re gripping him, milking his cock, makes it impossible.

“I’m gonna cum, angel,” he groans. “Cum with me.”

His words are enough to tip you over the edge. Stars burst behind your eyes. You cry out his name as your thighs tremble and your toes curl, creaming on his cock. Aone grunts, half-moaning, as buries his cock inside you, thick ropes of cum coating your walls.

You hold him close, not wanting him to leave even as his cock softens inside you. Aone stays where he is, wanting to prolong this moment as long as he can. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, hugging you close to him.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbles in between kisses. “Thank you.”

You smile and catch his lips with your own.

“Always,” you whisper back.

masterlist

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[consciouscarrot]

day 25 - daddy kink [j.price]

john price x fem!reader

content warnings; mentioned wet dream (r), oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, creampie, daddy kink (obvi), sweet sex <33

notes; he’s so daddy oh my gosh, and i’m slowly catching up on these fics yay :) longer one again tday, can you tell i love him? as always, mdni and blank blogs get blocked.

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you’d been tossing and turning for a while, having woken up after a very memorable dream with slick smeared between your thighs and an ache deep in your belly.

you’d tried to ignore it at first, not wanting to disturb john, thinking you could just go back to sleep and everything would be fine.

but almost an hour later, it had only gotten worse, and it didn’t help that he’d forgone a shirt, the sight of his softened stomach and hair covered chest making you nearly salivate, subconsciously rubbing your thighs together to try to ease some of the tension.

biting your lip, you decided to just try and wake him up, and figured that if he denied you, you’d just sneak off to the bathroom to get it out of your system. carefully shaking him, you whispered his name, internally praying that he’d say yes.

he startled awake, quickly checking the room over for threats before turning his concerned gaze to you, pulling you into him.

“what’s the matter, sweetheart?” he let out a heady groan, further worsening your condition, pussy throbbing around nothing and sending you reeling.

you whined, burying your face into his neck and squeezing your eyes shut as you bucked your hips against him, far too shy to tell him aloud.

he chuckled, chest shaking against you as he realised what was going on, strong hands rubbing your back in sympathy.

“my girl feelin’ needy? we can’t have that now, can we?”

grunting lowly, he rolled over on top of you, leaning up on his elbows to look at you, stroking away the stray hairs that had fallen over your face, your eyes still shut as he planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

“open your eyes f’daddy,”

your lids fluttered open, eyes glazed over as you looked up at him dreamily, hopeful for him to provide you relief with his body. you visibly melted beneath him when he traced over the edge of your jaw, sighing softly at his delicate touches.

“i love you, daddy,” you whispered, chin tipping up in a honeyed plea for more kisses, smiling sleepily against his lips when he gave in, mouths moving together in slow movements, your tongues swirling together sluggishly.

“i. love. you. too,” john said, words split up by chaste kisses pressed all over your face, grinning at your little giggles, squirming from the ticklish feeling of his beard.

you pawed at him, wiggling your hips to try and get his attention a little lower. ever attentive, john’s hands slid over your body, rubbing at your waist as he leant down, trailing wet kisses down stomach, lips grazing over your soft skin. your breath hitched when he hovered over your heat, gently blowing air onto your pearl, grinning at the breathy moans you let out from such little stimulation.

purposely avoiding where you wanted him, he shifted down further to your inner thighs, rough hands palming at your skin whilst he kissed there too, eyes never leaving yours.

you really tried to be patient, but he was so close to your pussy, tangy slick pooling along your slit, that you couldn’t help but buck your hips again, chewing on your lip in anticipation.

“you’re neglecting me,” you whined, voice wobbling with crocodile tears.

“shh, i know,” he laughed, “gon’ be good f’me, baby?”

“yes i promise, please, daddy,” you squeaked, nodding along eagerly.

“okay, bug. i’ll give y’what you want,”

he licked a broad stripe over your cunt, groaning into you at the taste, sending vibrations shooting up your body. you cried out as he slurped at you, tongue focused on your clit as he flicked and sucked at the delicate nub, all messy and sloppy with his arms holding you firmly into the bed.

your back arched slightly, desperately grasping for anything to hold onto, patting at the sheets, only relaxing when he reached up and intertwined your fingers together, happy to let you dig your nails into his skin.

sweet moans slipped out from between your parted lips, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious way his beard scratched against your skin, high rapidly approaching both from being so pent up and his ravenous mouth.

another deep moan into your cunt sent you over the edge, thighs enclosing around his head as you gripped tightly at his hands, powerful waves of pleasure washing over you, rendering you near breathless.

he rubbed along your thighs, massaging slowly as he waited for you to come down, resisting the urge to hump against the mattress, cock throbbing from both your taste and sounds.

“good girl, honey. ready for more?”

“yes daddy, need you,”

pulling your legs around his waist, he hovered above you, leaning down to kiss you, the sweet taste of you bleeding from his tongue to yours, nipping at your bottom lip, meeting your gaze with half-lidded eyes.

john quickly stripped off his boxers, bringing his thick cock up to your weeping pussy, tapping his tip against your clit a couple times as he lubricated himself with your arousal.

you whined, growing increasingly impatient, one orgasm not enough to satisfy your urges, desperately needing to feel him inside you.

“easy,” he said, drawing out the word deeply, eyes flicking up to yours in warning.

you both moaned at the relief of him pushing into you, slowly forcing you to accommodate his thick length, walls pulsing around him as you gasped, faces so close together you could see every little scar on his face, every hair on his jaw, every shade of blue in his eyes.

he internally sighed a breath of relief when you finally settled under the heavy weight of him, tummy grazing against yours with each thrust of his hips, your pretty lips parted with the string of cries slipping past them.

you wrapped yourself around him the best you could, in all ways possible, legs wound tight around his waist, arms around his neck, fingers clutching at whatever pieces of him you could reach, cunt sucking him into you, silently begging him to fill you with his spend.

he adored the blissful look on your face, wishing that he could be here all the time, so that you would never know anything but everlasting ecstasy, that you would be constantly full of his cum, belly swollen and round with his babies.

fingers lacing through his hair, you tugged him even closer to you, exchanging sloppy kisses as your dragged your nails from the base of his scalp, past his shoulders, trailing down his broad back, eliciting rugged moans from him, making you clench down on him.

you mewled loudly, his skilled hands circling your clit as the coil deep inside of you tightened again, you were barely able to hold back, waiting for his permission, only moments away from it snapping.

“oh- can i come, daddy? please?”

normally, he would’ve dragged this out, waiting until you had begun to lose control before saying yes, loving the way you trembled at the sheer effort it took you to stifle your orgasm, the look of panic on your face as you involuntarily began to give in. but, john himself was so close to falling over the edge, and knew that if he waited he’d end up embarrassing himself, so aroused from you waking him up from neediness and the feel of you coming against his tongue.

“cum for me,” he commanded, gasping as his hips stuttered, eyes locked onto the way your face contorted to the point of almost looking like you were in pain.

the coil immediately snapped, whole body shaking as euphoria flooded you again, whimpers and groans coming from the two of you as you came together, your slick mixing with his pearly cum inside of you, velvet walls spasming around his cock.

thoroughly worn out, you went fully slack, limbs falling back on the bed as you already began to drift back off, finally satiated and happy.

he collapsed next to you, rubbing gentle circles over your damp skin, letting out a slow, relaxed sigh, very pleased that you had ended up waking him, and eventually got up to clean the mess between your sore legs.

you were half aware of john moving about, whimpering when a warm cloth bristled against your sensitive clit, his shushing and quiet praises, before he joined you, pulling your body into his, sleepily groaning into your neck when you melted into his warm embrace.

[annwrites]

⸻ tell me i'm your national anthem. part three. ⸻

· pairing: homelander x collegestudent!reader · type: part of a series · summary: you tell john about your childhood & the things you still want despite it, & he tells you about his, knowing once & for all that you’re meant to belong to him & him alone. · word count: 2,409

You’re just beginning to drift off when you hear a soft knock against the glass.

You groan into your pillow and could swear you hear a deep chuckle from the other side of the door in response.

You slowly rise—head spinning from exhaustion—and pad over to the door, silently flipping the lock before throwing yourself back down face-first into the mattress, pulling a thin blanket over your bare legs.

John enters the room, staring down at you, arms folded behind his back. “What? No dinner for your man tonight?”

You mentally roll your eyes at him calling himself that yet again, but don’t reply to that particular comment. “I already ate. I’m going to sleep.”

He huffs, glancing around your small apartment, then back to you. “Guess I’ll just climb in there with y—”

“Not with your suit still on you aren’t,” you mumble into your pillow.

He raises a brow in interest, smirking, surprised you’re not trying to argue otherwise. Maybe that’s the key to getting his way, then, until you start caving all on your own: take advantage when you have no energy to fight back. When you’re soft and tired and at his will to do with as he pleases.

“See you’re finally starting to see things my way,” he states smugly.

You roll over then, looking at him. “You’re not wearing your outside clothes in my bed. It’s not a come-on.”

He toes off his boots, then settles his hands on his hips, as if he’s debating something internally.

It doesn’t take much effort for you to understand what.

His suit is his metaphorical armor. You still have yet to understand why he’s so insecure, though—why his ego is so fragile. That’s the one thing about him that should be ‘untouchable’, so to speak. Then again, being physically bulletproof doesn’t have any bearing on what’s inside.

And what’s inside seems, still, like a little boy living in a man’s body, to you.

He needs to feel wanted. He’d seemed pleased last night when you’d talked about seeing him again—like you were finally giving him what he’s been desiring since that day he first set eyes upon you in your university’s auditorium: your willing attention.

Your eyes flutter closed, throwing a bone his way. “I’m cold.”

And that’s all it takes for him to remove his suit—leaving him clad only in a pair of dark-blue briefs. And it makes him want to crawl out of his fucking skin.

But you’re all but finally asking for him. You want him. You’ve finally come around.

He knew you would. No woman can resist. Not even you. Young and pretty you may be, but you’re still not educated enough to know what’s in your best interest, clearly. Best interest being him. That’s the problem with all these liberal ‘schools’. They don’t teach what they used to: love of ones country. Instead, they’d tried to turn you against him.

But he can still pull you back. It seems like he already has as you lie there, waiting for him.

So, he climbs into bed next to you, pulling the covers over himself, and then he pulls you into his arms, holding you against his chest.

He smiles softly when you gently press your palms to his pecks.

“I like you better like this,” you say, cuddling closer, wondering how he’ll react to it.

He tightens his arms around you then and you squeak.

“John, you’re crushing me.”

He loosens his hold, feeling the least bit pathetic.

He’s done this before—held a woman so tightly that it resulted in her life being cut short he was that fucking desperate for affection.

He lets you go entirely then, rolling onto his back, hating himself.

He doesn’t need anyone. Why can’t he get that through his goddamn head? Why the fuck should he care what a weak, useless, lonely little human like you thinks about him—a god? He should just kill you instead. He does that, and you’re no longer all he’s able to fucking think about all day—to a disturbingly obsessive degree. It’d be as simple as—

You scoot closer, sliding a warm, dainty hand up his chest until it’s resting gently against his cheek and his mind immediately goes blank—his face twitching as he fights back tears.

Maybe your superpower is just…comforting maternal gestures, then.

At least with you he won’t have to compete with another to receive them. Unlike Madelyn…and Teddy. The little shit. Taking what should’ve been—had been—his.

But you? There is no competition. He assumes, at least.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asks quietly.

You pop an eye open, staring at him as he stares up at the ceiling, his face entirely void of emotion.

Lying would be useless, you’re sure. He works for Vought—or with—you’re sure they could have a comprehensive background check done on you in a handful of minutes…if he hasn’t already done as much. You have half-a-mind to ask, but you’re not sure you want the answer to such a question.

“No.”

His lip twitches, turning upwards into a smile, which leaves you feeling uneasy.

“So you’re all mine, then.”

You open both eyes, blinking at him, heartrate beginning to climb. “I—”

He shakes his head slightly. “No. Wasn’t a question.”

He turns back onto his side then, sliding a heavy hand over your hip, holding you possessively in his grip. “You said you’d tell me about ‘her’ tonight.”

You brush your thumb against his cheek, eyes drifting down to his chest, not wishing to meet his own now.

You want to go back to his comment—one he’s made more than once now, just in varying ways—about…ownership. He surely doesn’t mean it.

But every time you’ve tried to assure yourself of anything concerning him: that he won’t come back, that he won’t really hurt you—you’ve been wrong.

Maybe you’re not as good at reading people as you like to think you are. Most of all him.

You just still don’t understand why you’re a subject of fascination for him yet. Like you’d told yourself the other day…what’re you compared to any of the other women in his life? But maybe that’s it, then. Just like him, they’re forced to put on a mask, not letting anyone in deeper than surface-level, lest the plastic cracks.

It seems like he just…wants to connect.

No wonder you’ve been so tired the last couple of days—constantly wracking your mind, trying to understand him. As if it’s even possible. He’s been an actor all his life.

You sigh.

“I’m sure you won’t…be able to relate. I’m envious of you in that: your perfect childhood, and life. I wish I’d had that…”

You trail off for a moment.

“My mother,” you say quietly. “I haven’t seen her since I was eighteen and left for college. Half the reason I even went was to get away from her. I didn’t care about student loans and living in debt if it got me out of that house. For the first couple of years I lived in a dorm room…and it was the first time I’d ever known peace. No more walking on eggshells, no more fighting, or being called horrible names, or having to cautiously measure what mood I think she’s in each day—or hour—lest I provoke her.”

You slide your hand down to his neck, softly curling your fingertips inward. “I can’t…”

You pause, tears stinging your eyes.

He pulls you closer to him, silently encouraging you to continue.

“Yet I still feel like I can’t get away from her. Not even here. Not even hundreds of miles from home—if you can even call it that. Because she’s always with me. In my head. Beating me down, making me feel worthless—like…all my self-worth still needs to hinge upon her and how she feels. If she’s happy. When did it become my job to look after her, and not the other way around? And even when I did…she still abused me for it. Nothing I ever did was right.”

You bite your lip trying to fight back tears.

“When I was young, I wanted what we’re all supposed to once we grow up: a husband, a home, babies. And then I got older, and because of her I tried to convince myself otherwise. Tried to pound into my head that I didn’t want kids. That what I really wanted was a hysterectomy. That way, I’d never have to risk turning into her: becoming the monster of a mother that she was.”

You ignore the tears running down your cheeks now. “But it’s how I’m different from her that matters most. She’s taken enough away from me. Stolen enough of my life. I want children. I deserve to be a mother. To have a family. To make my own. She doesn’t get to have that, too. She doesn’t.”

Your chin wobbles and you let out a small sob. “I’m sorry.”

He only holds you closer, unsure what to even say. He’s never known how to comfort others. He’s always expected it to be provided to him instead. But only from women. And only in secret. Because he can’t be seen as some fucking weakling.

Because he’s not. He’s not.

He is the strongest man in all the world. The most superior. The master of his race.

You continue to softly cry, and it’s then that he makes a decision, knowing that if it ends terribly—with you emasculating him, or betraying his trust—well, it will take no effort from him to rectify the situation. But he’s sure that you won’t, because, little-by-little, you’ve shown your true colors: how maternal you truly are.

You just said it yourself. And it’d sounded like the most beautiful fucking music to his ears to hear: how desperate you are for a child.

You want someone to look after? Well, here he is. He needs your love. He can admit it now. To himself, at least. Even if it tastes like rancid vinegar to do so.

“I didn’t have it: a perfect childhood. It’s all fucking bullshit. You want to know how I was really raised?”

You grow quiet then, only occasionally sniffling as you slip your fingers into his hair, gently stroking his soft, blond strands.

“I grew up in a lab like a rat. These…doctors kept me locked in a sterile white room with nothing but a blanket for comfort. Not even a bed. Not a pillow. No toys. No TV. Nothing. All while they performed test after fucking test after—”

He clenches his teeth. “Watching me every second of every day. No privacy. Treating me like some…sideshow attraction. Burning me and laughing at me and just—watching.”

Your chin wobbles.

“I never knew my parents because I was designed in a test tube. I was created to be this. The greatest superhero the world has ever known. They tried to make me perfect. And I am,” he tacks on.

He’s unsure whether he’s trying to convince himself of that, or you.

“But I’m just—”

“Lonely,” you say, interrupting him with tears slipping down your cheeks—your heart shattering, for him.

You wrap your arms around his neck then, finally understanding him. Finally seeing a shred of humanity behind his ‘tough-man’ facade.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” you say between sobs. “I am so sorry for what they did to you.”

All you can picture in your mind’s eye is a sweet, blond little boy sitting in a room all alone, waiting for someone to come for him. To care. To hold, or love him. For them to stop hurting him, all while he was left to wonder what he did wrong to deserve such horrible treatment.

How…how could anyone do that? To a baby? To a little boy?

You shouldn’t care. Not after what he did to you just two nights ago, but you can’t help it. Because in this moment you just see a broken man that has nowhere else to turn.

He slides impossibly closer, burying his face between your breasts, quietly crying.

You shoosh him, running your fingers through his soft hair.

Here lies the most powerful—invincible—man in all the world in your arms—a man who has always seemed a larger than life titan…somehow he feels so small now. You’d been right to see him as just a scared little boy looking for someone to comfort him. And it serves only to break your heart all the more.

 “I’m so sorry, baby,” you say.

And it reminds him of a loving mother consoling her child. Something he’s never had the gift of having.

He mouths it against your breast then, just…wanting to try it—to know how it feels: ‘mommy’.

And it comes to him naturally. Like…this is meant to be.

And he knows in that moment with absolute certainty that you’re the one. You’re supposed to be his. Meant to belong to him alone. You were born to.

He’ll kill anyone who even attempts at coming between the two of you. He’ll rip him in fucking half with his bare hands just to keep you. Just to show you this newfound devotion.

And he’s sure you’d be thankful for it.

Your mother expected you to do everything for her? He can show you the opposite: so long as you love him, he can give you the same.

He’ll take care of you. He’ll make sure you don’t go without anymore. He has more than enough money for the two of you. Is willing to expend the effort to keep you as his sole property.

It’s all he’s ever wanted: to be loved. And now here you are in his arms with an open, maternal heart meant to love him.

Besides…how could you ever dream of doing better than the most singular and superior man in all the world? No other pathetic human specimen could ever compete.

You’ll be thanking him one day for having come into your life. For saving you. But that’s what he does: he saves people. And it seems you—his new purpose—need him most of all.

Before long, you’ll see just how much.

Before long…you won’t have any idea how to live without him. Already he feels the reverse: no idea how to live without you.

Not that he’ll have to, because you’re not going anywhere.

If you tried, he’d simply follow, because there’s nowhere you could hide that he wouldn’t find you.

You’re his.

All his.

His girl.

His woman.

Mommy.

[bandgie]

I was just thinking about hannie starting an online shop for anime (hentai 👀) style costumes and asking hyunjin to help taking pictures. The reader would be modeling with the outfits. At first they'd be finding excuses to touch the reader to fix the clothes or help her change, then they'd ask her to do different poses that were showing her body more than the clothes, not that they were covering much skin anyway, then hyunjin would ask jisung to help with the poses bcs the reader on her own can't do it properly. and then ✨️threesome✨️

a little manipulation, a little manhandling, a little corruption, the best combination ever

yes anon you are correct

mdni18+ | fem!reader, dubious, pussy play, (un)solicited photos

"are you sure this is necessary?" you turn your head back towards the men. you've got your elbows perched on the table, arching your back so your ass widens for the camera. the underwear you're wearing leaves little to the imagination. you're sure they can see every crease.

click! "yes! i need customers to know it's fine material. it's business, babe. you wouldn't understand." han's reasoning makes your eyes roll. you turn to face the front again, forced to hear the clicking of hyunjin's camera.

a hand comes on your hip. guiding you to arch your back more and spread your legs. you squeak, snapping your head around to see Hyunjin carefully moving you. 

"chill," he doesn't even look at you. "i'm just fixing it." but there's something off about the way he touches you. hyunjin squeezes your flesh, massaging the skin until he travels to your inner thighs. you want to say something, but you recall han telling you that he's a professional. it would be better to let him do his job, but it's weird. 

it's instinct when your legs snap shut, his fingers had went to your crotch. 

"okay! dude! that's so fucking not necessary."

"the underwear was all messed up. im just fixing it," it's the calmness in Hyunjin's voice that gets you to settle. he's so stoic, so poised. his overly professionalism makes you simultaneously comfortable and uncomfortable.

"han, can you help me over here?"

you internally whine. now there's gonna be two men essentiality gawking at your cunt. you shut your eyes and try to pretend you're anywhere else, but it only does more harm. it focuses the feeling of ghost touches from their fingers, the accidental flicks to your clit. it makes your hips jolt, your breath hitch. it's a normal reaction for you to get wet, for the substance to leak through the underwear for han and hyunjin to see.

"god damn." it's low, but you hear han. he gets bold, using two digits to run up and down your slit while hyunjin spreads one of your cheeks for easy access.

"w-wait. hannie, it gonna get dirty."

"dirty?" he scoffs. "it's gonna look good. just let me and hyunjin get you nice and wet, okay? it'll look really good for the photos."

"mhm." hyunjin nods. "adds realism, you know?"

you don't know, but they're the professionals. might as well let them do what they think is best.

[pernesophe]

Coffee Shop Girl x Hoshina Soshiro

(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)

Synopsis: You’re well known around the third division base as the barista who works at the coffee shop, and after working (and living) on base for some time you’ve developed feelings for the Vice-Captain. What does he do when your feelings are revealed? WC: 3203 MDNI. TW: smut- f reader, (f)masturbation, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration

Hoshina’s Scent is based on Carbonara by Lorenzo Pazzaglia Reader’s Scent is based on Chestnut Cream and Vanilla Cream by Jousset Parfums

The hour had grown late as moonlight filtered through the tall windows of the main corridor on the JAKDF 3rd Division base while Vice-Captain Hoshina made his way from the training room towards his quarters. Along the way, he cut down a side hall lined with rooms belonging to the ‘regular personnel’ and interns who lived on base. Passing the last door on the right, one violet iris clocked that it was slightly ajar, and then he heard the faintest whine that halted him in his steps.

“Soshiro…” the sound of his name slipped through the crack between the door and the jam to where he stood inches away. Silently he crept closer, pressing his fingertips to the smooth wood to push it open slightly. First he was hit with hints of fresh roasted coffee swirled with chestnut cream, and then he saw you. The beloved barista of the 3rd Division, laid out on your bed under a thin blanket with parted thighs, small movements fluttering the blanket covering your core. Just as he was about to slink away with the memory stored away, your head canted back into the pillows as you released another breathy moan, “fuck Soshiro…”

Hoshina felt his eye twitch slightly at your desperate sounds. Maybe it was weeks of nonstop Kaiju attacks, or the utter lack of sleep, or the endless meetings with the higher ups… Whatever it was - your honeyed whimper shoved all rational thinking from his mind. Stepping into the room fully before he shut the door completely with a muted click. Wordlessly he strode to the end of your bed without making a sound.

“Usually I prefer to be addressed as Vice-Captain Hoshina, but I’ll make an exception just this once.” Chiding you playfully as he knelt on the edge of the bed. Shooting up with a surprised squeak, brows raised in shock, as you went to wipe your juices on the blanket, but Hoshina caught your wrist and quickly took your fingers into his mouth. Gliding his wet muscle over your digits as his plum-colored eyes studied your utterly stunned expression, a satisfied groan emitted from deep in his chest while he licked you clean of your sweet, musky arousal. After releasing them from his mouth with a pop, he shot you an approving smirk.

”You taste so good,” Hoshina murmured against the pads of your fingertips, breathing out notes of smoked pink pepper and bourbon sandalwood that fanned over your cheek. Slowly you began to scoot away, but as you did his grip tightened on your wrist, “Where are you going y/n? Weren’t you just moaning my name? And now you’re trying to run away?” He whispered the string of questions, faux hurt tinging his tone as his vibrant irises pinned you in place. He knows my name?! Heat rushed to your face from embarrassment, swiftly averting your gaze to the fuzzy, rust colored blanket covering your lap.

”Oh? Too shy now? I can just leave and let you finish all by yourself.” Hoshina brought his lips to the center of your hand before uttering the words into your palm - violet eyes cut to meet your shocked glance - hints of your balsam, sweet-almond fragrance lifted off your supple skin to stain his. Again, you were too embarrassed to muster any words, and after a drawn out staring contest the indigo haired man shrugged and simply said, “okay, then.” Sighing in disappointment as he released your wrist and began to climb off the bed, taking with him that black pepper infused oriental rhum redolence that was reminiscent of an indulgent meal.

”Wait!” Crying out as you sprung forward, catching the sleeve of his coat between your fingertips. Hoshina faced you again - arching his brow incredulously, but the gleam in his eye was playful.

”You just had to say so - no need to cry about it,” Hoshina chuckled low as he crawled up the bed to be sitting on his knees between your thighs. Slowly, he brought his face close enough to hover his lips over yours, but didn't close the distance. Tenderly, he tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear with his fingertips. Gazing into his amethyst irises you could see he was studying your face closely. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, warm spiced air fanning your lips, but still he didn't move any closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was just being sentimental, but the way his lips quirked up at the corners indicated that he was teasing. 

“Soshiro…” you pleaded quietly - not entirely certain what for, and still unconvinced that this wasn’t some super realistic dream.

”Yes? Is something wrong?” Hoshina feigned genuine concern as he leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of your head - caging you in. Still, he made no move to kiss you. Your breath hitched in your throat from the rising tension as you tried to focus on the purple irises that have been studying you this whole time. At some point the playfulness morphed into pure hunting instinct. It felt like you were trapped in the jaws of a fanged beast, and for some reason that excited you. “Talk to me Y/N,” Hoshina urged you in a gentle, yet commanding tone.

”Y-you’re teasing me…” mumbling as you tried to lean back a little, but he followed you fluidly. 

”You don’t like it when I tease you? Cause you seem pretty excited…” Continuing with taunts as his lips came so close to touching yours that you could taste the sugar-spiced coconut clinging to his breath, spurring you to whine involuntarily. He chuckled before adding, “See? But, anyway, tell me what you do want.”

”M-more…” murmuring in a hushed tone, as you averted your gaze to the white wall to your right.

”More… teasing? But you just said-” Hoshina started again, but you had finally had enough - facing him, you cupped his cheeks before pressing your lips firmly to his. Hoshina tittered against your mouth, obviously enjoying this, but not ready to give up the game just yet. Parting for air, he smirked down at you arrogantly while noting, “You can’t answer my question if you’re kissing me.” Punctuating his statement with a gentle nip to your bottom lip.

“Soshiro.” You groaned faintly, “Please just kiss me more!” your exasperated whisper bounced off the walls, making Hoshina laugh outright - revealing his sharp canines in all their predatory glory.

”Okay, okay - I will…” He dipped his mouth closer to yours again, halting a breath away to pose one last query with a knowing grin, “and where do you want me to kiss you?”

”On my lips Soshiro, please!” You cry once more - anticipation coursing through your veins from the prolonged teasing. Soshiro’s grin spread wide across his face while he leaned back on his heels, and then hooked his arms under your knees.

”Okay. I understand,” he assured you before swiftly lifting you from under your knees and dragging your bare cunt to his mouth. Leaving you half folded on the bed while your other half was pressed to Hoshina’s torso, held within his strong arms. Shooting you a look of pure victory before pressing his lips to your drooling pussy, followed by a swipe of his tongue through your folds. What started out as an exasperated sigh quickly became you throwing your head back as a lewd moan escaped you. 

“Shhshhshh… We don’t want anyone coming to check on us.” Hoshina barely separated from your core to susurrate the words in a low, gravelly timbre before diving back into your messy heat. Vigorously drinking every drop of the irresistibly rich musk that you had to offer until he felt delirious.

Dragging the tip of his tongue between your glistening folds, up to your sensitive bundle where he swirled around it until your hands were fisted in the sheets. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip to contain the lewd sounds bubbling out of your chest. A pair of vibrant, indigo irises observed your expression intently, tittering from your attempts at restraint. Gripping your thighs bruisingly, he brought his tongue down to your entrance before languidly pressing through that ring of muscle that gave way to your velvety walls. A shocked gasp was torn from your throat, finally parting your lips, the second the vice-captain began plunging his lithe muscle in and out of your fluttering hole. Hoshina groaned directly into you as your creamy arousal burst over his taste buds, all the while teasing you closer to the edge. 

From your vantage point - folded on the bed - you could see his expression becoming downright hedonistic as his eyes rolled back while his ministrations turned voracious. Pressing his nose to your clit, Hoshina bobbed his head feverishly between your thighs, alternating between plunging his tongue fully into you and dragging the tip through your folds up to your sensitive bundle of nerves. Repeating his flurry of movements, over and over, until the taut feeling in your abdomen snapped - spurring another gush of your decadent arousal to flood his taste buds. 

With a whimpered moan your body sagged in his hold, leaving you panting as you threw one arm over your face in an attempt to avoid Hoshina’s triumphant look. Ever so gently, he laid you flat on the bed with your legs spread on either side of him before bending over you, bringing his lips to your jaw. First he littered chaste kisses along your jawline, over your cheek, to the corner of your mouth, and then he gingerly pulled your arm away from your face so you would meet his gaze. Cracking open one eye, you saw Hoshina’s satisfied face peering back at you, a cheshire grin tugging at his lips and leaving his sharp canines on full display. 

“Vice-Captain…” Mumbling shyly, your cheeks sporting a vibrant shade of red, to which Hoshina just tittered at you.

“We’re not finished, so don’t stop calling me ‘Soshiro’ just yet,” he chided you endearingly as he sat back to remove his coat, swiftly followed by his black compression shirt. 

As his garments fell to the floor they wafted notes of jasmine and spicy pink pepper into your vicinity as you drank in the Vice-Captain in all his glory. Everything about him was seamless - hardened planes of muscle that flexed under smooth skin when he moved to undo and remove the rest of his uniform. 

Once settled between your legs again, completely nude, Hoshina grabbed the backs of your thighs and laid them over his own while stroking and squeezing their satiny plushness. Curiosity got the better of you as you shamelessly sat up on your elbows and raked your eyes over all of him. You almost shot him a glare for snickering at your shocked expression, but you were too focused on the sheer length and girth of him - thick veins running from the base to the bulbous, mushroom tip. A subtle twitch of his length brought your gaze from the glistening tip back to his shit eating grin. 

“Not what you were imagining?” He inquired, arching his brow arrogantly as if to punctuate his question. 

Then, in one swift movement, he gripped the backs of your thighs roughly before dragging you closer until his cock was wedged between your folds - the underside of his tip pressed firmly to your clit. A gasping yelp fell from your lips while you stared up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Hoshina had to stifle a laugh at how your hands had landed on either side of your head - palms up and splayed - accentuating your big moon eyes that gazed up at him in anticipation. 

“No it wasn’t,” your calm, hushed voice caught him off guard, brows raised at you in surprise. Then, even more shockingly, you slowly began grinding on him - spreading your arousal up and down his length as he gripped your thighs harder just to retain some control. Though, what you said next almost had him tossing all restraint out the window. Your eyes became half-lidded as your pace picked up marginally, flashing him a hot-sweet smile while you whispered up at him, “this is better than anything I could’ve imagined.”

For a moment Hoshina looked utterly stunned by your change in demeanor, and then he wordlessly canted his hips back, and then forth - matching your pace - muted groans mixed with satisfied sighs as they tumbled out of him. His tip dragged deliciously through your folds until it caught at your entrance, and then with a silent look shared between you, he pressed forward until his tip stretched through that ring of muscle. Strained breaths mingled in the space you shared as hints of spiced nuts, sugared almonds and oriental sandalwood permeated the air. 

Reaching up, you grasped onto his toned biceps as he started thrusting lightly - eyes falling shut as he sheathed himself bit by bit until he bottomed out completely with a long, drawn out groan. Cracking his eyes so they were only half-lidded, he moved to hook his arms under your knees, nestling even deeper into your gummy walls while pulling you impossibly close - eliciting a breathy whine from you.

“Place your hands flat on the wall,” he instructed in that same cadence you’ve heard him use on the training field, his violet irises flicked to the space above your head. A plotting smirk pulled at his mouth.

Swallowing thickly, you release his arms and reach above your head, doing as you're told by placing your palms flat to the cool, white wall - in this position, your arms were fully stretched and locked at the elbows. Peering back up at Hoshina for an explanation, but all you were met with was a ravenous look as he drew his hips back - making sure you felt every inch of his veined length dragging through your core. Then, he thrusted his hips forward with all the strength you thought he possessed.

Immediately he set a brutal pace which had you jolting up the bed. If Hoshina didn’t have you in such a tight grip along with instructing you to brace yourself against the wall, you feared you would’ve toppled off the bed completely. Plum colored eyes observed your expression as you bit down on your lip in an attempt to quiet your salacious sounds, but with each powerful thrust your lips parted to emit a pleasurable whine. Soon the room filled with your satisfied ah ah ah’s that were accompanied by the resounding plat plat plat of Hoshina’s pelvis repeatedly meeting yours.

It wasn’t long until your arousal was wetting your and his thighs as a creamy ring formed at the base of his cock. That taut feeling deep in your core returned tenfold as your velvety walls clenched around him sporadically. Other than a strained gasp and blown wide pupils, Hoshina’s expression remained unchanging as he studied your’s becoming steadily more and more fucked out. His eyes fell from your face to your plush breasts bouncing in sync with each of his thrusts, down to where the two of you joined, and then back up to your lips parted in a perfect ‘o’. 

“You’re getting close,” he remarked breathily with a lustful glint in his eye as he felt your warm, plush walls becoming puffy as your climax swiftly approached. Bringing your fucked out gaze to his, trying to focus, but all you could was whine pathetically as you clenched around him again. Somehow, Hoshina’s pace grew more intense as the strength of his thrust increased - almost sending you over the edge. Just before you lost it, he commanded in a calm, authoritative tone, “say my name when you cum.”

That’s all it took to send you teetering off the edge into that euphoric abyss that swallowed you whole. Clamping down around him, your gummy walls pulsing as your back arched into the waves of pleasure coursing through you. With one slight change in angle, his bulbous tip began hitting that spongy spot that made your vision go white and sent shivers through your limbs as a desperate cry was ripped from you. 

And then, keening your head back into the pillows, his name came tumbling out of you in a wanton moan, “Soshiro!” Then you threw him a pleading look just before you begged, “Cum for me Soshiro, please!”

Between your puffy walls trying to milk him for all he’s worth and those compelling words, Hoshina’s eyes fell shut while his hips stuttered until they halted flush against yours just as his climax crashed over him. Twitching in tandem with your pulsing cunt, his release coated your walls mixing with your own as it filled you completely. A long moment passed with nothing but the sounds of the two of you catching your breaths; until he finally cracked his violet eyes to peer down at your disheveled form before slipping out of you. Whining softly at the sudden emptiness, you watched him with rapt interest as to what he would do next.

“Thank you, this is exactly what I needed. I haven’t been able to sleep for a week,” he said followed by a satisfied sigh, like he just finished a good training session, while laying down next to you. 

Silently you observed him making himself comfortable, wondering if he was really planning to stay the night. But then he wrapped an arm around you, drawing you flush to his chest which elicited a surprised squeak from you. Beyond a smug smile, he didn’t mention your shock. Peering up at his relaxed expression - eyes shut, satisfied simper, both accentuated by his other arm lazily tucked behind his head - gradually you relaxed into him, laying your head on his chest.

“Well, maybe if you cut down on the coffee…” you murmured quietly, shooting him an admonishing look when he peeked at you out of the corner of his eye. And when he arched a defensive brow, you added in a chastising tone, “you get like six a day.”

“Yes, but I only drink three of them ever since you started making the other three decaf without telling me” he replied nonchalantly through a yawn, though an amused smirk turned the corner of his mouth. Settling back into the pillows, he tucked you tighter into his side.

“If you knew, then why would you keep getting all six??” You couldn’t hide the exasperation leaching from your question, followed by an incredulous giggle as you wrapped an arm around his torso as well.

“Because I like coming to see you,” he whispered sleepily, pressing his nose to the top of your head. Inhaling deeply, Hoshina breathed in the roasted coffee and toffee nut fragrance that clung to you, and would certainly permeate his dreams tonight. Blinking rapidly as his words sunk in, sending your mind spinning - did he really just say that?

“What…?” Mumbling in shock, but he didn't respond. Instead, all you heard was his faint snoring accompanied by warm breaths of air puffed into your hair. With a small, relenting sigh you tucked into his warm, comforting embrace. There, you sunk deeper into his pepper-jasmine and vanilla-sandalwood aroma until sweet slumber claimed you as well.

Master List (I have no rights to these characters, the works they come from, or the art/screenshots/manga panels used in this post. Screenshots taken from pinterest, so if you know the creator please lmk! Divider is from @sweetmelodygraphics)

[hoe4sports]

How this ends p5

Fridolina Rolfo ft Alexia Putellas x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 alternate

Author’s note: Here is the ending to the “how this ends”. I hope you have enjoyed my series, and that you keep reading my stories.

Warning: non

Summary: Alexia tries to repair what she once broke.

-

After coming home from your trip to Sweden with Fridolina, Alexia had begged you to come see her. At first, you bluntly refused. Never again, you promised yourself. But then. the leafes turned brown, and the ocean changed into a temperature only a fisherman could handle swimming in. Just like the seasons changed, you came around and agreed to meet her.

Picking a spot to meet her wasnt as easy as it seems. She suggested to meet up at her place, but you refused. You decided that meeting up in what once was your own homes would remind you of too many good memories and you would end up forgiving her on the spot.

Meeting up at Fridolina's place, just felt inapropriate. You had too many good memories with her to ruin your peace. It wasnt like you still loved Alexia. You loved her, but like the number of dates she took you to declined, so did your feelings for her. Fridolina picked up the pieces of what Alexia broke, and she worked hard every single day to glue it back togeter.

Arriving at the cafe, you immediately spotted Alexia among the tables. You felt your heart drop to your gut at the sight of her. She was wearing a cap covering her dark baggy eyes as she looked down. Her outfit didn’t resemble something Alexia would normally wear, only a plain pair of jeans with a stain and a white t-shirt.

Even though you felt less affected by the breakup by the day, just like your wounds had started closing up: they definitely hadn’t healed. You felt like your stomach was about to twist inside out, and tried to take a deep breath which only ended in you suppressing a yawn that turned into an embarrassingly squeak.

Alexia immediately shot her head up in your direction before practically tumbling out of her chair. Her frame moved towards you with her hands reached out in your direction. You looked at her hands. The gesture was out of pure routine after spending 13 years together. When she reached you, you gave her an apologetic look and she pulled her hands in, slightly redder in the face.

“hi” you tried to say confidently, but it ended up being more of a whisper. “Hola” she whispered back.

The pair of you standing completely dumbfounded in the middle of the cafe surrounded by couples and families. The tension was thick, and it made you feel like you were on display for the whole cafe to see. “Wanna walk?” Alexia asked, but it ended up being more a telling you instead of a suggestion.

It’s odd, you think. You haven’t seen Alexia since before the summer. Now, it’s late September. Everything is different now. It’s has all changed. Eventually, you moved out of Frido’s apartment into your own home. A place with only one tooth brush, one hairbrush and one water bottle. A home where you could eat lasagna on a Wednesday because you didn’t need to cook for an athlete.

As you walk quietly on the gravel listening to nothing but your shoes hitting the rocks; the sound of the silence becomes unbearable. “How are you?” Alexia spills out. You raise your brow at her. Did she really just ask how I am, you think to yourself while internally rolling your eyes.

“I’m feeling pretty good. Going to Sweden this summer and staying with Fridolina’s family really really helped.” You practically spit the words at her.

A part of you feels good saying that harsh truth to her, to be brutally honest, but a part of you does still love Alexia. You see the hurt on her face, but she hurt you. She chose this for you, and she dosent get to slip away from the responsibility of the situation.

“What’s the deal with Frido? Why do you car-“

“Listen, Alexia. I’m gonna be transparent here. I’m only here because I wanted to tell you in person, before it comes out through media; I’m seeing Fridolina.”

“It’s kinda hard not seeing her when you stay at her place, no?” Alexia laughs.

Your eyes tear up.

“I love her, Alexia. I’m in love with Fridolina.”

-

After your walk with Alexia, that was cut short because of your confession; you retreated hom to Frido. The only issue with what you had just confessed to Alexia, was that you hadn’t confessed your feelings to the girl you were in love with.

When you got home, you immediately popped yourself into the couch lying down on your belly. You let out an audible sigh before laying your head down. Why did it feel like a conflict of interest?

You knew that you loved Frido, and you had loved her since you woke up from mourning your relationship. Frido had been there every step of the way. Always patient, always kind and always good. Frido was the greater woman. She was just perfect.

Abrudly, you were cut off from your own thoughts when Frido suddenly appeared from the corner. The pair of you both let out a scared scream before laughing at each other.

“Sötnos, how was your walk with Alexia? Did you get any answers?”

Frido moved towards you before sitting down next to your head. Her hands running through your somewhat knotted hair from the wind at the park.

“Yes”

You sat yourself up, looking straight into Fridolina’s blue sparkling eyes.

“Not to be noisy, but. And?”

You moved towards her face, gently reaching your fingertips towards her face. Your face just centimetres from the Swede.

“And…” you repeated silently, barely whispering trying to catch your breath.

“Y/n? What did you talk about? The cat? A possible regroup? Fill me in please! And what?”

The way Frido’s natural curiosity kicked in had you grinning at her. You looked at Frido’s lips before looking at her eyes again. Your hand tucking away a few strands of her blonde hair. A soft smile on your face leaning towards her ear before whispering softly:

“And, I love you, Fridolina Rölfo”

-

You and Frido had just come home from Mapi and Ingrid’s when you felt a sudden overwhelming feeling of missing your cat. Your tears were dripping, softly hitting Frido’s couch while looking at your phone. The screen was showing you your cat’s adorable little face. Alexia always complained about how many pictures you took of the little guy, but you loved him to pieces. She always complained about cat litter. How expensive cat food was. How expensive taking him to the vet was. How he couldn’t be in your bedroom or in the kitchen. But you didn’t care. He had never betrayed you, so you never betrayed him.

You looked at his sweet little face while swiping to the next picture. It was a picture of him sleeping on your chest while you were fast asleep aswell. The next picture was your cat with a flower on his head. After the flower picture, a video of him chasing a robotic fish popped up. Your tears kept pressing while you laughed at yourself.

“YN? You will never guess what Mapi just texted me! Oh, are you crying?” Fridolina said as she barged in clearly in shock. You looked up at her, and she was already moving towards you in the speed of lightning. Her hands reached out to you as she arrived at the couch and your hands immediately intertwined with hers.

“I.. It’s just silly, don’t worry about it”

“Skatt, it’s never silly if something makes you cry. I always worry about you. Is there anything I can do to help? Hell, I’ll find a way to catch the moon if that is what you want.”

You flashed your screen towards Frido who looked back at your black cat.

“Is it your cat?”

“It was, but he lives with Alexia now. She refuses to give him to me..”

“Do you want him back?”

“Yes, what kind of question is that? Of course I do”

“Okay; you get what you want, love.”

“But there will be cat litter, he has midnight zoomies and he loves to yell, AND you don’t even like cats?”

“If he makes you happy, then I’ll find a way to get him to you. I’ll be any type of animal person for you. Maybe not a spider or a snake, but a cat? No issues there!”

“But, Alexia dosent want to let him go”

“Don’t worry about the practicality, I’ll sort it out”

The next day, Frido arrives from training with her bag and your cat in a carrier, making you feel happier and more grateful than ever for finding someone that loves you the way you love them.

—

Your eyes filled with tears while looking down on the woman in front of you on one knee with a velvet box in her hands. The idea of marriage, a big grand wedding with all of the people the you loved was something that had lingered in your head since you saw your mum in her wedding dress back when you were 6. Since that moment, you knew you wanted marriage.

Frido’s blue eyes were sparkling reflections the stars in the dark sky above her. She had gone above and beyond to make the proposal special. With the help of Ingrid, she had planned a secret trip for you to Lake Como where she planned to purpose by the gate to heaven at the date of your 3 year anniversary. Frido being Frido, didn’t stop there.

“Y/N, from bestfriends to girlfriends. You are the light of my life. The last years with you have been the best years of my life. I might not have gotten the chance to grow up with you, but I’m ready to grow old with you. Y/N, will you please do me the honour of marrying me?”

“Yes, Fridolina. Yes, yes, yes!” You cheered before throwing yourself around her. She caught you and spun you around in circles. It felt exactly like a scene from a romantic movie. Then, it was time for the ring. It was sparkly and grand, but elegant and classy. It was exactly what you wanted. You looked into Frido’s eyes as she slid the ring on your finger while tears of joy were rolling down your cheeks.

«Its perfect, its everything I’ve ever dreamed of. You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” You say as your tears spill down your cheeks while framing Frido’s cheeks with your hands.

“You deserve it, you are so good to me. You are perfect, everything I could’ve ever dreamed of. I would be a fool miss out on trying to wife you up” the last comment made you giggle leaving a smile of your fiancé’s face.

She then reached around her back and somehow pulled out a bouquet of flowers. Not roses, you don’t care much for roses. Alexia would buy you roses, and you’d say “thank you”. But you don’t care for roses. The flowers Frido picked out for you, were bluebells: your favourite. A flower that was rare in the nature, even rarer in shops. The gesture brought tears to your eyes.

“Close your eyes, baby” Frido commanded before she put her hands carefully on top of your eyes.

“There is more?” You whisper, a hushed cry chocking your sob. You felt slightly confused, but you trusted her. She turned you around to face another direction. Music started playing, or rather a live band started playing Ed Sheeran’s “perfect”. Her hands dropped from your eyes and you immediately opened them. There, just 50 meters away from you; You and Frido’s families and friends, 60 people flown in from all over the world to be there on your special day. Your nearest friends came sprinting towards you before wrapping you into a hug knowing that all the pain was worth it.

[carolmunson]

orange colored sky (older!modern!eddie)

older!modern!eddie - setlist inspired by the fact that i fall in love with someone new every time i got to trader joe's and @loveshotzz new older!steve series. manip by my fave @eddiemunsons-missingnipple tw: nothing really, very much a meet cute at a grocery store. eddie is in his early 40s, reader is late-late 20s/early 30s. lemme know if you guys want this to be a whole thing.

the automatic doors rush cool air into your face, a sweet reprieve from the sticky heat of this summer. a much muggier july than you remember having as a kid. but then again, you don't remember that much about being a kid these days. trader joe's is a little busier than usual, which makes sense with the holiday weekend coming up -- but you hate when it's busy. there's already too many sounds -- some summer 90s playlist and the squeaks of the carts, people in their hawaiian shirts milling around with boxes and box cutters. you just want some snap peas for god sakes. 

you grab a basket and adjust your canvas bags on your shoulder, tossing your headphones in them for later. you feel 'running errands ugly' but everyone seeing you in the bike shorts you threw on this morning doesn't think that view is ugly at all. your music drowned it out on the train ride over here. you're already sort of annoyed. people just don't know how to do anything anymore -- why are we just standing in front of produce. get what you need and go! you think hastily. but you wait for people to stop gawking at the produce and make their selection before you grab the romaine, snap peas, and shredded brussel sprouts you need. when you turn you almost walk entirely into someone's cart, eyes flitting up briefly and muttering a 'sorry, s'cuse me'.

can everyone just get off my fucking ass? you huff to yourself internally. you maneurver over to fruits, a few stands in a row -- citrus, apples, berries. all separated by category in large cargo looking boxes. you snag a big box of cherries, the three pound one, knowing you'll go through the small ones too fast. you frown over the lack of watermelon, continuing along while someone turns the corner into your aisle. you look up for a moment, just to scan your surroundings, to see who it is.

 you've never seen him before, but you've never seen anyone here before. it's not like there's regulars at the grocery store in a city like this. his hands hang over the handle to his cart by the wrists, knuckles tattooed in shapes you can't make out. you follow the leather banded watch up to a full sleeve of ink, only obscured by the start of a cuffed t-shirt sleeve, a crisp white that blinds against the black of the elvira pin up tattoo on his tricep. horror icons blending into each other seamlessly. you can see more black and color peeking out from the collar of his shirt --vintage judas priest, mint condition, tucked comfortably under a well perserved denim vest covered in patches of bands you've never heard of. you're surprised by the black chino shorts on his bottom half, not expecting someone who was clearly still stuck in their grunge phase to wear those over cut off jeans. the busted up reebok's on his feet make up for it though -- pairing nicely with the tattoos on his calves and thighs, not quite sleeves, but enough to make a statement. 

you grab a box of strawberries and pop them into your basket, surveying the mangos on the top shelf at your eye level while he maneuvers behind you. you think he's cute but you don't take too much stock in it -- it's so like you to have a 'train boyfriend' or 'trader joe's boyfriend' for a brief moment in time. someone cute that you spot outside and never speak to. it's one of those days.

he has brown eyes and thick lashes, hair dark wrapped in a bun on the top of his head with streaks of silver poking through, bangs in his face. some curls stick to the heated skin by his neck and jaw. not that you're looking. the scruff on his face is littered with salt and pepper -- maybe that part of him aging more than the rest. he grabs a heap of bananas to his nearly empty cart. he also has a big box of cherries in there. he wears a cologne with spice and suede in the notes, it's familiar, a little smoky. maybe an old boyfriend used to wear it. you shrug it off, grabbing a mango or two and popping it in a produce bag before hocking it in. more veggies for a greek salad. an onion. some pre-packaged turkey slices. 

you turn into the first frozen food section, weaving through more people who just stand there and you grit your teeth. you snag some frozen broccoli, the coolness bringing you a moment of calm so that you don't lose your mind inside the store. more like traitor joe's. you grab a few more things, a veggie medley for a tofu scramble, some scallion pancakes that you’ll use as meal replacement because no matter how many times you think you’ll food prep you never do. you see him at the end of the aisle, rifling through bags of frozen shrimp to find one he likes. you notice he has a ring on but it’s on his pointer finger, two more rings on the hand that holds his cart by his hip – a silver chain dangles from what you assume is his wallet in his back pocket. his keys jingle from a carabiner by his front belt loop. slut, you think to yourself. you grab a bag of small frozen salmon filets, not paying much mind to your grocery store boyfriend of the week when you turn the corner to the next frozen food aisle. he’s there not soon after you, grabbing frozen fruit medleys and a few bars of chocolate on the non-frozen shelving above. you aren’t sure if he sees you, but you see him. you can smell the suede and spice of his cologne as his moves past you to the other end. bread is on the back wall of the store, you want to get sourdough but you know you’ll just eat it plain and not make sandwiches so you opt for the tuscan loaf instead. you snag a bag of mini bagels, forgoing the small baguettes this time. you can’t afford the good burrata this week for any special girl dinner you come up with, so it’s best to not have it around if you can’t pair it with anything pretty. further down the back wall you get to snacks and don’t ignore the bag of yogurt covered pretzels – a basket must. seaweed snacks for salmon rice bowls. plantain chips. Your basket feels a little heavy but at least this errand is almost over. you turn down the pasta, beans, and rice aisle and there he is turning down the other end. you both catch each other this time, because this time feels like it’s not a coincidence. you both break eye contact as quickly as you make it, both of you looking down and smiling to yourselves. you feel the heat on your cheeks but you don’t see his blush, both of you too preoccupied with whatever you have to pick up to pay attention to the other. you smell the suede and smoke even after you lose him to the next couple of aisles. 

pre-packaged tortellini, lox, shredded cheese. chicken thighs. a six pack of some pretty sounding beer you’ve never tried. your basket overflows but it’s fine. the errand is over, at least here, before you need to run into target which for some reason is far less overstimulating. he’s a few people ahead of you on the opposite line, still leaning over the edge of his cart with his hands hanging, one thumbing a text to someone before he stands up fully to push the cart ahead. he looks over his shoulder and your eyes briefly meet for a moment – heat on your cheeks – before he moves ahead to turn down the long row of cashiers to pay. you don’t see him when it’s your turn and by the time you’re done paying you’ve already forgotten about him, lost in a flirty conversation with the guy ringing you up. target only has half of what you need and that’s fine because nothing else will fit in the big canvas bags you brought with you for your groceries and it’s at least an eight minute walk back to the train. you groan when you get back out into the heat, the boiler room of the subway cooking you as you make it down to the platform. a pleasant sigh passes your lips when you see it’s at least only a four minute wait until your train makes it to you – only a few more minutes of suffering before you’re on your way back to your air conditioned studio apartment. you look across the platform where some old lady’s push cart rattles as it makes it down the stairs on the other side. her little body walking ahead, a voice saying ‘i got it, ma’am don’t worry,’ echos down into the chamber of the subway.

there he is. a canvas bag on each arm filled to the brim and the push cart lifted in front of him. while you can’t see from this distance, you have a feeling you’d like how his arms looked at full capacity like this. the cart’s metallic jingle continues when he places it on the concrete ground, pushing it over to the woman who now sits pleasantly on the bench. you watch their conversation while they say quiet ‘thank yous’ and ‘your welcomes’ to each other and he checks his phone while he finds a spot to stand, waiting for his train on the opposite side.

you check your phone just the same and look up again as he puts his phone in the pocket of his vest. his attention catches on you from across the way.

he gives you a small wave and smiles. he has a nice smile, infectious.

“hi.”

you wave back with two fingers, a small salute, “hey.”

“i’m eddie,” he starts as the red glow of the light on your train starts to pull in. 

the chug, chug, chug starting to drown him out. he raises his voice with a boyish grin, you hear him just before the train obscures him from view – whooshing past you as it pulls into the station. “i normally go to trader’s on wednesdays!”

you get on the train when the doors open, seeing him still on the platform, searching for you in the windows. you put your hand up again in an awkward wave and he grins when he finds you. ‘stand clear of the closing doors, please!’ he puts a hand back up with two fingers, mouthing out a message. ‘wednesdays around two.’

you give him the okay symbol with your fingers and nod at him, chuckling at the ridiculousness of the situation, he chuckles too. his smile is pretty, lips are full. his two fingers point to his eyes and then at you – ‘see you then’. 

the train pulls away before you get a chance to reply. 

next

[medicmuttt]

Totality

hear me out. for all the self shippers. Sun and Moon asking you out during the eclipse.

You're all settled on the roof or somewhere outside, the three or at least you and Sun in control of the body, resting on a soft blanket borrowed from the daycare. It's cute, littered with clouds and moons, and so incredibly soft. You're tempted to take it for yourself. You won't, but the thought crosses your mind.. They're cuddling with you of course. You've gotten used to it at this point. Always so clingy to their favorite little human. Their blank optics somehow filled with wonder as they look on at the sky. You look on as well. Your eyes protected by cute space themed glasses. They don't need any of course but they got some fake ones just to match you. Maybe they stole Monty's for the day..

You can feel as their hands fidget. The Moon hasn't fully covered the Sun yet.. But he looks down at you, sun rays twitching, a cute quirk you've noticed. "S..Sunshine?" His voice is laced in a nervous static as he speaks up. You turn to him, giving them your full attention. That only seems to make it worse.. The gentle whirring of his fans laced with the soft creeks and squeaks of their internal mechanics. Your head tilts ever so slightly as the bot gets the courage to speak once more. "I.. I.. We've known each other for a while now a-and today is so so special.." He trails off. You can tell by the look in his eye his communicating with Moon. Likely yelling at him for tripping over his words so much. His wrings his big, intricate hands. Your brows furrow. "Moon and I have been wanting to ask you for a while." One hand suddenly goes behind his back, searching for something you can't quite see. "W-would you go out with us.. Be our little star? Our universe?" With that he pulls out a bouquet of paper flowers. All hand crafted with colorful construction paper. Blues, reds, oranges and purples.. even some made of star patterned paper.. You feel your chest leap at the sudden proposal but before you can speak he pipes up again. "Y-You mean everything to us Sunshine. I.. We know it isn't really.. Professional or conventional. But we promise to take care of you, to make everyday you're with us the best day possible."

Your heart is racing in your chest. Pounding against your rib cage like a drum. Face hot and flushed with blush. You smile at them, the cute shy one they love so much. Their fans seem to grow louder. They'd fallen for you.. hard. But the two couldn't help the anxiety that bubbled within their chest as they waited for you to respond. Moon was eerily quiet while Sun nearly panicked. "Oh Sun.. Moon.. I don't know what to say" They hadn't said something wrong had they? They weren't reading your signals wrong? "Of course I will. Oh I'd love nothing more then to be yours" Your voice had picked up a cheerful tone. It felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Sun found himself releasing a breath his didn't even need. Dropping the flowers he near tackled you. Pulling you flush into his lap with a squeal. "Oh sunshine! You have no idea how much this means to us!" He squeezed you. Burring his big face into your neck Unable to do much else you simply smiled. Chuckling to yourself and wrapping your arms around their surprisingly warm and soft body. His eyes flicked back up to the sky. The totality was almost here. The tight grip grew slack as he turned you around. You could feel as his hand made its way into yours giving it a excited squeeze. the three of you watching in silence as the moon slowly encompassed the sun. "We love you andromeda.." You leaned up to kiss their cheek. The plastic growing hot under you. A smile tugging at your lips. "I love you too."

I fixated idk if this is good okay bye.

[pjoxreader]

PJO Characters Reacting to “I Love You”

((Not sure if I’m coming back fully yet but had this cute idea I wanted to share! 🥹)) Leo Valdez

-”H-Huh?” goes bright red flames bursting from his head. He’s so used to flirting and not having it returned that he panics when people flirt back.

Frank Zhang

-Looks around before realizing that you were talking to him. Goes as red as a tomato as he points to himself in surprise “M-Me!?” His voice went up at least three octaves. 

Percy Jackson

-”You too?” He really didn’t mean any harm by it, he's just utterly flabbergasted that people keep falling for him. 

Annabeth Chase

-Drops her book in surprise and just stares at you for a while to see if you were messing with her. “Seriously…?” Honestly taken by surprise, internally panicking. 

Hazel Levesque

-The cutest blush you’ve ever seen as she stares at you in shock. “H-Huh?” there’s even a little squeak at the end.

Jason Grace

-Stares at you in shock, mouth opening and closing as if he was a gaping fish. “You stole my thunder…” he complains covering his face from how flushed he was.

Piper Mclean

-Cute pink blush as she stares at you utterly flustered. “You… Aren’t messing with me right?” there’s a threatening undertone to that, she really debates fighting you if you were. 

Nico Di Angelo

-”I’m… Sorry…?” Honestly has no idea what to do with this information. Screaming inside as he just stares at you blankly. 

Reyna Ramirez-Arellano

-”Oh.” honestly taken by surprise. Doesn’t mean anything bad by it; she just needs a few minutes to process.

Will Solace

-”I love you too!” brightest smile you’ve ever seen proceeds to blind you. How can he be so clueless yet so sweet.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

[swordsandholly]

For WIP Wednesday I give you clips from both the next part of Cherry Bomb and Across the Way:

Across the Way Chapter 5

You resolutely march your way across the street - hands balled into tight fists and face set. The open sign in the corner of the window flickers as you approach the shop door. You hesitate briefly, hand hovering over the handle to enter. Are you being annoying? He might be busy. He’s probably busy. You know working all on your own is time consuming. What if he feels like he can’t say no? Deep down, you know you’re being dramatic. They said they’re your friends and neither Johnny nor Simon seem the type to lie about that sort of thing.

You realize, to your shock and horror, that you’ve been hovering in front of the glass door for a minute straight. Oh, he probably thinks your a freak. Part of you wants to turn tail and run - dash all the way across the street and up the stairs and bury yourself in bed. Avoid him and Johnny for the rest of your life after this blunder. It’s can’t be that hard, right? How difficult could it be to skirt around the men across the street in this tiny, tiny, tiny town?

Impossible is the answer.

A weight lifts off your shoulders when you finally step inside, only to be greeted with an empty front of house. Simon must be in the back. Thank goodness he most likely didn’t see your internal crisis in front of his door.

When Simon circles out of the backroom he’s wiping down his hands - the rag obviously stained with unsettling shades of red. His apron is covered in similar hues. He’s rolled up his sleeves today exposing the expanse of his arms. They flex as he moves and it really should not be as attractive as it is to watch him wipe actual blood of his hands like this.

“Afternoon, bird.” Simon grunts casually. He has his usual black surgical mask on, muffling his words ever so slightly.

“H-hi!” You squeak, your planned script getting stuck in your throat. You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that sometimes. That calm, almost bored droop of his eyes as he waits for you to gather yourself.

“Can I get you somethin’?” He cocks his head slightly.

“Uhm…” You shift under his steady gaze, unable to meet his eye and stop staring down at your non-slip work shoes. “I…uh…I made a steak pie with some of those leftovers you gave me and, uh, it’s kind of too much for just me…and I know you usually take your lunch around now and, uh…”

Simon huffs in amusement. “You askin’ me t’ get lunch?”

“I mean, I kind of owe you any-”

“You don’t owe me anythin’.” He interrupts, pulling his apron over his head and hanging it neatly behind the counter. He does that a lot, you realize. Cuts you off whenever you begin to apologize or try to push them away.

Cherry Bomb Part Nine: The Expo

“Are you?” John asks

“Hm?” You hum, unsure of what he’s asking about.

“Happy here?” He leans against the alley wall, cutting the end off a cigar he pulled from the silver box that lives in his back pocket.

In the low light of the alley, his pupils overtake most of his irises. Dark and intense as he looks you over from head to toe. You see it, suddenly. The god that the others do. He’s not as physically large as Simon, or as loud as Johnny, but he fills every inch of any space he enters regardless. You suppose you became so used to being in that radius that you forgot just how much presence he carries. You’ve wrapped yourself in it like a blanket. A shield.

Your cheeks warm and you shuffle your feet. “I… yeah.”

“Good.” John sighs out a cloud of smoke. “It’d be a pain in the arse to replace you. The boys have taken too much of a liking t’you.”

You stare up at him, eyes wide. It’s not like you didn’t know they like you but having it confirmed still makes your chest tight. It makes your eyes sting and you can’t help but break out into a bashful grin.

“John?” You murmur, barely meeting his eye.

“Dove?” He tilts his head.

Some boldness overtakes you - that same one that the others instill in you. Something born from them and them alone. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist, earning a grunt in return, and bury your face in his chest.

“Thank you. For everything.” You mutter, voice muffled. He smells so good - the slight burn of cigar smoke only adding to the depth of it. “I’ve never… been taken care of. Not like you all do.”

There’s a pause. For a moment you begin to panic that you’ve overstepped. That you’ve monumentally fucked up. That-

An arm wraps around you, John’s large hand cradling the back of your head. “Think nothin’ of it, love.”

[hxney-lemcn]

idia

Genre;🌹

Trope; 🛏

Prompts;🌙 😳

a/n: lol everyone loves the one bed prompt 💀 but that's okay cus I do too. hope you enjoy!

tw: none

wc: 0.3k

2k follower event | master list

“Could you stay the night?” Idia asked. A bold question coming from him, but he’s had a bad day and you didn’t have the heart to tell him no (not that you wanted to). 

“Of course,” You easily agreed. You both were already in his bed having finished a movie anyways. If anything, he’d have to drag you out of his comfy bed with plush pillows. You were already in pajamas and warm under his covers, so why would you go all the way back to your room? 

“One more movie?” He questioned, looking towards you for confirmation.

“Only if you want to,” You replied. “Just don’t get angry if I fall asleep on you.”

With that, another movie started. You were getting a bit tired already (it was pretty late), so you rested your head back. Your eyes started feeling droopy and the screen started to blur. So you settled on just listening to the movie, head slowly falling into a more comfortable position. It was all good until you heard a squeak. Opening your eyes, you were face to face with Idia, your head having fallen onto his shoulder. It was still hard for you to keep your eyes open, your dreariness trying to overpower you. Well, that was until…

“Are we about to kiss right now?”

You blinked stupidly, your brain too tired to handle this, “Are you serious?”

Idia merely whimpered, and your filter was practically nonexistent at the moment, so you merely shrugged, “If you wanna kiss so badly then fine.” With that, you closed the small gap, your lips meeting in a sleepy, short kiss. “There,” You grumbled, snuggling into his neck and closing your eyes again. “Now let me sleep.”

Meanwhile, Idia is struggling to not tense so you're not uncomfortable, the tips of his hair a bright pink, internally wishing you’d kiss him again (and questioning what that meant/made you both).

[slayfics]

Truth or Dare

Muichiro x Reader short series

The game of truth or dare continues.

Warnings: Muichiro aged up | Story is a little suggestive~

Part 2

Mitsuri easily slipped into your uniform and then offered to help you with hers as it was trickery to wear.

"Oh wow... aren't you ever worried... some things might slip out?" you asked as Mitsuri helped adjust you.

"I was superrrr embarrassed the first time I tried it on. I suppose I'm used to it now, and it helped that Iguro bought me long socks to cover my legs."

"Hm... he really likes you," you said almost to yourself.

"You think so?" She said turning pink.

"Oh yeah, it's painfully obvious." You stated as Mitsuri continued helping you in silence, but the pink shade on her face remained.

"Ok, ready?" She asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be I suppose."

"Oh don't worry, you look so cute!" She said smiling and walked out of the room. You followed close behind her hoping to hide behind her.

Obanai turned quickly to see Mitsuri in your less revealing outfit. He immediately noticed how far more comfortable she seemed. He found himself wishing Mitsuri had made more of a fuss about her outfit. Not that he didn't enjoy the view, but it pained him to know how uncomfortable she was in it, and he didn't like the thought of others looking at her.

"This is really comfy!" Mitsuri said as she walked back to sit by the table. That's when Muichiro saw you in Mitsuir's outfit. His pupils instantly dilated and his eyes followed you as you came to sit back down next to him. You continued looking down and tried not to look at Muichiro as embarrassment took over you. You felt exceptionally vulnerable in Mitsuri's outfit, and it made you nervous feeling his eyes intently on you.

"Ahem!" Mitsuri cleared her throat. "Tokito, it's rude to stare so hard..." she stated. Muichiro snapped his head away from you, forcing himself not to stare any further.

"My apologies,” he said, but he kept stealing glances at you every so often.

"Ok well, I suppose it's my turn," Mitsuri said, watching Tokito's face flush each time he stole a glance at your exposed skin.

"Tokito, I chose you." Mitsuri chose.

"Hu?" He said, seeming to snap out of his daydream caused by the sight of you.

"Truth or dare?" She asked.

"Dare." He said fighting the urge to turn and look at you again.

"Well I see you can't seem to take your eyes off of them so I think you should kiss them," Mitsuri said, a blush forming on her face from her own idea.

You felt the blood drain from your face from the shock of her dare. She dared Muichiro to kiss you?? That wouldn't happen, surely the Hashira would refuse you thought.

"Ok." He stated simply.

Your body couldn't move even if you wanted it to. Muichiro said ok? Was this real life? You suddenly became aware of your abnormal breathing.

"You alright? Not going to pass out on us are you?" Obanai said mockingly at you.

"It's ok if you don't want to. I'll do the truth instead." Muichiro offered, confusing your reaction for disapproval.

How gentlemanly of him you thought. That only makes him more attractive. You froze in the moment trying to gather your thoughts. Crap. Speak you yelled internally at yourself. You had to say something before Muichiro opted to do the truth instead, but your face was starting to gather sweat and your hands were shaking.

"No! It's ok!" You managed to squeak out feeling like you were indeed going to pass out.

"You're so obvious it's embarrassing," Obanai said laughing.

"Hmm?" Muichiro looked at him curiously.

"It's obvious she has a crush on you," Obanai stated.

You wanted to yell at him. Who was Obanai to be making fun of someone for that?? He's the one that is so head over heels for Mitsuri that the whole demon slayer corps knows it! At least you've managed to mask your feelings more than him.

"You like me?" Muichiro asked, his eyes lit up and he moved closer to you. All the bitterness you were feeling towards Obanai washed away at that Hashiras proximity getting closer to you. All you could manage to do was feebly nod your head.

Muichiro took your disclosure as consent for him to kiss you and moved closer to you. You felt your heart pounding as the Hashira gently pressed his lips to yours and it felt like fireworks went off in your head at his touch. Everything else seemed to melt away at that moment as you lost yourself in his touch.

He pulled away after a few moments and it took everything in you not to grab him and pull him back. It was impossible to speak but you wanted so badly to divulge the depths of your feelings to him.

"Mphf!" You heard and were taken back to the room. It was only now you remembered Mitsuri and Obanai were here. You looked over to see Mitsuri hiding her face in her hands. "I'm sorry that was just so adorable!" She said into her hands.

"I believe it's my turn then?" Muichrio asked.

"Yup!" Mitsuri said, bringing her head up, her face dark red at witnessing the event of you and Muichiro kissing.

"Hmm ok, I dare myself to kiss you again," Muichiro said, looking at you.

Everyone in the room seemed to freeze. You felt like you were really going to pass out now. He wanted to kiss you again? This truly felt like a dream.

"Umm... I don't know if it works like that." Mitsuri said, placing her hand on the back of her neck. Obanai didn't say anything but his eyes were huge staring at Muichiro. The gull of this guy he thought.

"Hmm ok then. Iguro, why don't you kiss Miss Kanroji. It's clear you have feelings for her." Muichiro said, shrugging his shoulders.

"WHAT?!"" Obanai exclaimed, almost falling backward.

"Oh... it's ok if you don't want to Iguro." Mitsuri said, looking disappointed.

"No no... It's not that I uh-" Obanai couldn't seem to get any words out. Mitsuri watched him with expecting eyes, waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts. As much as you wanted to tease Obanai for revenge, you took this distraction as a chance to talk to Muichiro.

"You know, you don't need a dare if you want to kiss me again." You said to Muichiro, a blush forming on your cheeks.

Muichiro's eyes widened at your invitation, and he quickly devised an excuse to be alone with you.

"Hey. I think we'll give you two some privacy for that dare." Muichiro said standing up and placing his hand out for you to grab.

"Oh ok." Mitsuri said, turning the darkest red you had ever seen her. The events of the night were too much for the Love Hashira to handle.

"Good luck." You said winking at Mitsuri as you got up and grabbed Muichiro's hand. Muichiro guided you down the hall to one of the vacant rooms in the mansion. The last sight you saw of the other two Hashiras was Obanai looking like he was on the brink of passing out as Mitsuri inched her way closer to him.

Thank you to everyone who was invested in this story! I’m tagged everyone here that asked, since when this is scheduled to post I might be away from my phone. Thank you again for your support, I hope you all enjoyed it 💚!

@parcqq @aeolia18 @theday-dreamer17 @meaningfulstonestan @xxliliana-screamsxx @seven-teen-world

[sebastianswallows]

Nobody's Darling — 5. The Morning

— PAIRING: Benny Cross x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Benny comes across a girl walking alone in the middle of nowhere and offers her a ride to the nearest town. They stop at a motel.

— WARNINGS: just fluff

— WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

— TAGGING: @confessionbrain-writings @fleurdemers

— A/N: Continuation of Part 4.

She was sleeping. Then at one point she became aware that she was sleeping. Her body was pleasantly sore, her feet a little swollen but cooled by the morning air that slipped into the room, and beneath her was the softest, warmest blanket — only, as she slowly woke she realised it wasn’t a blanket. Her eyes opened to the bleary morning light and the sight of honeyed flesh. Oh… She wanted to get up but her back still ached, and as soon as she braced her arm against the mattress she remembered why she’d opted to sleep on top of Benny instead. The springs squeaked painfully loud.

“Mmmmh… G’mornin’,” he muttered, breathing in and stretching his long body.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry,” she muttered, blushing as the events of last night came back to her.

“No, don’t worry,” he sighed, wrapping an arm more around her shoulder and pulling her back down on top of him. “Sleep well?”

“I think so…”

Benny looked down at her, his eyes quickly losing the haziness of sleep and finally gaining some focus. “You alright?” he asked, his voice sounding fearful of the answer.

“Yeah… Yeah.”

He said nothing, instead merely rubbing his thumb against her shoulder in a way meant to soothe her — or perhaps himself. The timid chirping of the birds outside and the gusts of wind were a stark backdrop to how sad he seemed.

She almost felt sorry for him. He’d been so happy when they went to sleep together, or if not happy… something. It was difficult to remember now between the high waves of her pleasure crashing down, distorting memories, sensations, time itself. Perhaps he thought she’d be the same person when she woke up as the one he knew last night, or maybe he’d forgotten who he invited to his bed, or maybe… Maybe it was useless to wonder what he thought. And she certainly didn’t have the courage to ask in what manner precisely she’d disappointed him in the few minutes they were both awake.

“I should, erm, get up,” she said.

“Yeah. Sure.”

She looked down at the two of them, covered in the meagre blanket grey with stains, and underneath she felt his naked body moving along hers. Strong legs, narrow hips, the softness of his muscled arm behind her… She lay cradled in his embrace and cuddling with him was like sleeping with a radiator. It made her want to fall asleep all over again, and Benny certainly made no move to leave. She blushed and didn’t know whether to get up quickly or take the time to find something first to cover herself with, but as her body slowly woke and caught up with her mind she realised she didn’t really want to go. She felt comfortable and safe, and the thought of returning to her white and cold apartment, to her boring job filled with meaningless little problems every day, and urgent issues, and measly internal politics, made her sick to her stomach. Benny heard her sigh and laid his broad palm flat over her shoulder, and then she felt him nuzzle his face into her hair.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked. He must’ve thought she was upset with him…

“I just don’t feel…”

“How?”

“Like leaving.”

She could tell his body stilled as he thought through what she said. He must’ve doubted her, or himself, because it took a while for him to speak again.

“Want me to go to your room and fetch your clothes?”

“No, it’s not that. I mean, maybe you should,” she chuckled, “but that’s not what I meant.”

“Feeling real’ comfy in this dusty ol’ motel room, are you?” he chuckled.

“Hmm… no. It’s horrible,” she laughed. “It’s probably the worst bed I’ve ever slept in… And the best.”

He turned his head to look at her, to catch her eyes and figure out what she meant, but she only buried her face deeper into his chest.

“Is that right…?” he asked.

“It is,” she mumbled.

“You mean it?” he asked after a few moments. “You really mean it, doll?”

She nodded, her damp cheek rubbing against his skin. It was as if his body melted, covering hers even more, and then he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and the only thing she could do was wrap her arms more tightly around his waist, and curl her leg around his, and let her body sink into the warmth he made for her beneath those threadbare sheets.

Thoughts kept coming back about what happened the night before and how it made her feel. How it shattered her to her core — not necessarily to have a man there with her, naked, with her exposed and vulnerable beneath a bulk of sweaty skin and bulging muscles, but to be with someone who looked at her and really saw her, and liked every little part, even those she’d never considered showing. And then he kissed her, and loved her, and held her, and loved her still in the morning after the flush of passion had long passed.

Benny, meanwhile, kept thinking of what she said. He’d fully expected her to get up and leave as quickly and discretely as possible like he was some mangy mutt she might catch fleas from. He didn’t like it, but he’d expected it, and already had prepared a little corner of his heart to bury that night in. And then she went and turned everything upside down and now he had to hold himself back from going a mile too far and asking her to stay with him forever. She was timid, sure, just like he could be sometimes, but he too easily mistook that for disdain and it didn’t help that she kept hiding her face away from him when he most wanted to see it, to read in her eyes what it was she really thought.

He gently grabbed her chin and eased her face upwards. Her forehead was still a little damp with sweat, her lashes matted, and her cheeks were framed by the wild mane of her hair, but those were the same eyes that had looked at him last night with wonder and with love. He bent to press his lips against hers in a little kiss.

“Want me to fetch you breakfast?” he asked, partly to distract himself from the speed his thoughts were driving at. “I’ll go downstairs and get something…”

“Won’t you eat breakfast too?”

“Ah, I’m… not hungry,” he said, his elbows already braced against the bed as he heaved himself up. “Not really used to it.”

“You mean you don’t — Of course you don’t have breakfast,” she sighed, shaking her head like a disapproving mother. “Well, you’re having it today.”

He rolled his eyes but would’ve lied if he said it didn’t make something warm and soft flutter in his stomach.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he pressed another kiss to her temple, and then he hopped off the bed with more energy than he usually had at that hour.

She curled up and held the pillow to her chest, partly to cover herself, partly to have his warmth and scent about her a little longer, and looked over her shoulder as he bent for his briefs and socks and the rest of his clothes. Her face heated up again as she traced the length and breadth of his back, the muscles bulging in his thighs, and the soft golden hairs sprinkled across that smooth young skin. When her gaze caught the blushing bulge of his sac hanging soft and silky beneath his sculpted ass she buried her face into the sweet-smelling pillow with a moan.

“Damn, it’s eight thirty-five, can you believe it?” he said as he put his watch back on.

“It’s… what!? Oh no! I have work at nine! I…” She’d never make it home and to the office in time.

Benny had just finished looping his belt around, but that sad and worried look was back in his eyes. “Want me to take you back?” he quietly asked.

She held the blanket around her as she sat up in the bed, one hand trying distractedly to untangle her ruffled hair. She looked at him, standing there all still and quiet, waiting for her, then around them at the room as if she could find an answer among the crooked furniture, the sunken cushions of the armchair, the tilted framed photos on the wall, the bathroom door that wouldn’t close, all of it bathed in an uneven light with the carefree song of birds and lazy traffic seeping from outside. It was, in every way, a beautiful morning.

“No,” she said at last, her voice sounding calmer than it should have.

She looked up at Benny, his fingers slowly fiddling with his white tank top, looking in many ways like a little boy waiting to be kicked out of his parents’ bedroom. She couldn’t place what she felt at the sight of him, this mix of strength and frailty. She wanted to protect him and get lost in his strong arms again, and the more she thought about both options the more distant the prospect of going back to work became.

“No, let’s have breakfast,” she said with a faint smile.

He eyed her warily as if he didn’t expect this change of priorities to last, but he put on the tank top and got his wallet before she could change her mind.

She didn’t even want to think of how it must’ve looked downstairs when he got there half-dressed to fetch breakfast for two, but as she buried her face in the pillow again the shame bloomed into something sweet at the pit of her tummy. She eventually managed to roll out of bed and dress herself in yesterday’s slip, by now wrinkled and stained, but the brief reflections she caught of herself in the dark glass of the windows made her feel more sexy than ever.

“I’m back, darlin’,” he said as he walked through the door backwards, an old silver plate in his arms. “A full gourmet breakfast.”

“Anything is fine,” she chuckled as she took it from his arms to lay it on the bed. “I’m not fussy.”

“Yeah, well, you deserve to be.”

Once her arms were free, she got up on her tiptoes and wrapped him in a loose embrace. Out of some primordial instinct, he had his arms around her waist that very second and leaned down for a kiss. His lips were sweet and salty with an aftertaste of yesterday’s cigarettes and she couldn’t think of anything that tasted better. His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her up a little, while the other went up to cup her head, fingers tangling in the hair she’d barely managed to tame.

“You sure you want to stay?” he warmly asked, and this time he seemed less scared of what her answer would be.

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“What about your work?”

“If they fire me for missing one day, well…”

“Yeah, screw ‘em.”

“Exactly.”

“So what do you wanna do today, then?”

She looked up into his eyes, and her first instinct was to wonder what he thought. What did he want to do? What did he usually do? And what answer did he expect when he —

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he added, cutting her thoughts short. “I asked you ‘cause I wanna know.”

A big smile threatened to bloom on her face, just from the notion that he cared for something as small as her whims. After all, she never cared a great deal about what she felt like doing from one moment to the next. Those impulses came and went, and she usually had better things to do than what she felt like doing. But he struck her as the sort of person who placed great value on his impulses — and, seemingly now, on hers as well. She bit her lip to temper the warm and pleasant feeling.

“Well… I want to eat this breakfast with you,” she started.

“Mhm…”

“And then I want to take a nice, hot shower…”

“So then, you can’t do that here,” he chuckled. “Maybe back in your room.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do it in my room either.”

“What was it you said? Not fussy, are you?”

“And I thought you said that I deserve to be,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“That’s right,” Benny purred, leaning down to kiss her again.

The coffee cooled on the bed beside them, butter melted on the toast, and the scant jam he’d dug up in one of Tex’s drawers was starting to slide right off. They kissed as if nothing was around them, and neither the scent of breakfast nor the singing birds outside could pull them from the comfort of being in each other’s arms.

“Come home with me,” she whispered against his lips. “You don’t have to stay for long if you don’t want…”

“You sure,” he asked, rubbing a thumb against her cheekbone. “I don’t wanna be a pest.”

“You’re not a pest. You rescued me.”

“That’s just cause you were pretty,” he grinned.

“I don’t think so,” she said with an easy smile. “You didn’t see what I looked like when you started slowing down. I think you’d have stopped for just about anybody.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, swaying her gently in his arms. “But I’m glad that it was you.”

She threaded her fingers gently through his hair, the soft strand sliding through like honey, like sunlight, like golden threads in the most delicate tapestry.

“Come home with me,” she asked again. “Don’t say no. Unless… unless you don’t really want to.”

“Oh, I want to,” he sighed, tightening his arms around her with a possessiveness that frightened her in the best possible way. “Just… tell me when you want me to leave.”

“I’ll tell you right now,” she grinned. “Never.”

[sanjis-moulinrouge]

Falling Slowly

Alucard x Reader

Summary: Alucard struggles internally, hints of his soft side are starting to emerge.

Notes: As usual I wanted something soft. Maybe this could lead into smut and more chapters (thinking about it) :D

AO3

Alucard’s eyes were lost in the candles, he had the habit of lighting up some of them even if there were soft dim lights from the small lamps in the room. There he was, the annoying creature sat on his couch, legs crossed, enjoying silence or something else, he took his glasses off and put them on the side table. Within the months working together, he had grown used to you and staying late at your room, so late that he ended up resting on the same spot. You just contemplated him as you completed your self-care routine before going to bed after long tiring missions both of you deal with all day. For the vampire, missions seemed too easy, too repetitive, too meaningless, but at least he released tension by killing ghouls. Sometimes you wondered how he really felt, if there was something more than emptiness.

“Don’t look at me like that, y/n” he knew your eyes were laid on him. “I don’t need human pity.” His cold tone was defensive but you didn’t reply, that night you didn’t feel the urge to reply to his words or sarcasm, you just laid in bed and wrapped in the sheets. Alucard sighed, he was waiting for a response, some interaction as usual. His expression turned more serious as he watched you closing your eyes on the bed, yawning and paying no attention to him, it felt like a sting. You had the ability to make him uncomfortable when it came to feelings, he felt annoyed, curious… how he craved your eyes on him, a word. He was irritated but under that exasperation there were hints of affection that grew every night as he stayed around your room. He stood up and walked near the bed, looking for your face.

“Aren’t you going to reply to me? Are you trying to drive me to my limits on purpose?” he asked as he sat on the bed conflicted, his red eyes pierced yours. “Don’t feel like it, creature… maybe tomorrow” You replied in a calm tone, almost whispering. You felt his typical small huff of annoyance, the weight of his body laying on the thick covers, his weight shifting the mattress slightly as the bed squeaked. Your heart accelerated for a few seconds, it was the first time you felt his presence in such an intimate setting, close but not as you both secretly would like to.

Silence was deep, you were both staring at the ceiling. His presence was overwhelming, you noticed his long legs along the bed, the vampire was dressed, his crimson coat wrapped him, the only thing he had uncovered were his feet, pale as marble. His gloved hands laid on his chest and his black messy hair almost reached his shoulders. You began to relax, but your head was filled with thoughts of him, he was near, you wished for him to cuddle you, but you weren’t going to risk it, this moment that was already unusual and that you could get used to.

He looked at you through the corner of his eyes, feeling your scent, assuming you were going to complain saying this was an uncomfortable mess. He noticed how your eyelids closed, he stared at your features, your eyebrows and lips, how your hair fell. Alucard knew he needed to leave or go back to his seat, but he refused to leave your side, he felt at ease on the same bed as you, even if he couldn’t reach you yet. He struggled, he didn’t know how to approach you. He wondered how he could get closer and touch you, but refrained.

Hours passed, he slept fitfully, he didn't want to ruin this new, foreign but pleasant feeling of you by his side. Suddenly, your hand made contact with his arm, you held it naturally and unconsciously, gripping him at times, he felt the warm heat, the soft touch. He tensed by the gesture and took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he stared down at your sleeping face.

He smiled, he hadn’t felt this way in centuries, a desperate ache for something he couldn't have. He liked you too much for a human, too much to handle, you were his co-worker but also a fragile human. He thought about your random conversations, how he always avoided topics about affection, love, his human side that was buried because it was scary and because he had to be a monster, it was his duty, what protected him. He wanted to run away from those feelings but he also wanted to be closer to you. Alucard looked around the room, still, hearing your calm breath. Wishing that time passes slowly.

Would he repeat this tomorrow night?