#it might be hard to hear this and really take it in

[vrystalius]

Not saying “I love you“ back to the Squid game men.

How will they react if you don‘t say it back? In what scenario would they not say it back to you?

Pairing: The Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x gn!reader

Summary: Them not saying “I love you“, their reaction to you not saying “I love you“

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of angst sprinkled on top

(Pre-Squid game)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It barely ever happens, really. He adores everything about you, from your face, voice, body and the ground you walk on; that man is ready to worship you like a devoted follower would to the most merciful goddess. Therefor he would always be aware of how to make your day a little better, even if it‘s just a small “I love you” or a gentle kiss here and there.

The first thing you hear from him in the morning is a groggy voice mumbling a small “Good morning love...” into your ear while warm kisses were trailed down your back.

While standing in the kitchen and searching the fridge for any signs of a tasty breakfast, a small “I love you, I‘ll be back later!“ would echo slightly through the apartment as the front door closed.

Once, he did forget to say his usual I love you on the way out. He thought about how he possibly could forget? You‘re probably overthinking everything now and think what you might‘ve done wrong or do to offend him. You didn‘t, though! He was just too caught up in perfecting his appearance because his damn hair refused to obey and submit to his meticulous styling.

The poor man was almost scared to come home. As some sort of peace offering, he bought some of your favorite take-out food alongside some dessert, flowers and a new bracelet he thought you might like. Anything to try and make you know that he does really love you.

“Apologies, it completely slipped my mind. It will never happen again my sunshine. I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

His face may be neutral and his expressions calculated but his features soften up immensely when you show even an ounce of affection. His smirk shifts into a dreamy smile, the crinkles around his mouth shifting and becoming bigger, his eyes twinkling just a little. He just can’t suppress when you even look at him.

Your kisses and words energise him, gift him life, so whenever you don’t give him that little boost of dopamine, he gets visibly more tense in a way.

The silence that followed after his usual “I love you my darling, I’ll be back later!” was almost eerie to him. He stuck his head back into the kitchen to check if you even heard him. You glanced back at him for a moment and gave your husband a dismissive head nod. So you did hear him?

Silently, he left the apartment and went on with his usual day during that time of the year. For some reason, today he is especially looking forward to slap his elders for loosing a damn children’s game. His face remained neutral and had his usual smirk on his face, but deep inside, he’s offended, confused, worried, stressed; all the negative emotions someone can feel after their spouse doesn’t reincorporate ones affection.

Do you want a divorce? Because hell no, he’d never let you go no matter how hard you

But once he got a little text message on his phone that read a simple: “Need cuddles in bed later pls. Got some snacks too. Love you.”, all of his worries washed away in an instant. You probably were still too sleepy to answer this morning.

A smile spread over his face as he thought about slipping into your arms tonight. Isn’t it ridiculous how he melt like putty in your hands?

“You forgot something this morning and it did worry me a lot. But it doesn’t matter, it’s silly anyway.”

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s actually quite rare to hear Thanos say “I love you” word for word. He still feels awkward committing himself to the relationship you have and those three magic words feel so heavy on his tongue, so he’ll rephrase them to suit his level of comfort. “Love ya”, “Thanos loves you” and “Me too” are his ways to dodge the action to reincorporate those sweets words you shower him with.

Thanos only really says “I love you” if you two are alone, sober and you holding him in your arms. To be cradled by someone he admires, cares and loves so much makes him want to cry for some reason, but he suppresses those emotions and instead buries his face in your shoulder as your hand soothingly runs up and down his back.

Those are the times you hear a small “I love you…” being mumbled against your warm skin.

So quiet it’s almost unnoticeable, yet it was there. You know Su-bong needs time to get used to everything, so you’ll settle with a small audio message-rap in reply to your usual “I love you” text message.

“Back to the kitty ‘cause she kinda pretty, I can’t stop looking at her ti- ti- ti-face.. Anyways, thinking of you babygirl. Iloveyatoo.” (You barely caught him saying this the way how quietly he mumbled it into the mic)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

It’s fine. It’s cool. You don’t have to reassure him every day that you love him, it’s totally fine. You still love him like you did the day before.

It causes a deep panic inside of Thanos when you don’t give him his usual “I love you” text in the morning after he had woken up. He kept checking his phone like a madman, while he was brushing his teeth, peeking his arm and head out of the shower in the middle of shampooing, staring at his text messages while microwaving himself an convenience store meal. Nothing.

Not wanting to reach out first and appear clingy, he decided to write you like he is not having a full blown eternal panic attack. A small voice message here, a picture of his food there, a selfie from the bottom to show off his double chin, anything really.

You replied like normal but still, his eyes searched for the three key words. I. Love. You.

Thanos doesn’t want to admit to himself or to anyone for that matter that your calls, texts, hell, you coming over is like the most addictive drug to him. And he had his share of all kinds of colourful drugs.

His foot was nervously tapping the ground while his finger kept ringing your poor doorbell until you were forced to answer. He gave you a close look up and down, his lips formed into a pout of sorts.

“You okay? You didn’t text me you love me this morning. It’s totally cool and all but like… do you want to break up with me or something?”

Nam-gyu // Player 124

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Similar to Thanos, at first, Nam-gyu barely ever told you how much he loved you, liked you even. He just assumed you already knew and his actions were enough. A small side hug there and ruffling your hair here had to be enough for the rest of the week anyway.

He is guarded, afraid of commitment and to be frank in belief that you’re using him for the longest of time. Maybe you’re just “dating” him to get access to high-end drugs, all kinds of clubs or whatever else reason there is there to date him but for love.

You had to say those three magic words first for him to get comfortable with the thought that you are actually just want to date and love him. It came to him in the middle of a night shift at a random club he was supposed to promote. A moment of enlightenment.

Nam-gyu hid in a bathroom stall with his phone and ignored whatever the couple was doing next door, writing you a whole paragraph about what he was thinking, feeling, before deleting everything again because he thought he’d come off as some kind of pussy if he’d sent that.

His first time telling you how much he loved you was at your place. A casual evening watching some random movie you picked out while being arms deep in a bag of chips and dressed like a homeless person, Nam-gyu was staring up at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the universe even during this ungraceful moment of yours, admiring you in silence until finally…

“I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Did he fuck up again? Do or say something wrong? Don’t you love him anymore? Was there someone else?? His thoughts go ballistic as he stared at the screen of his phone with a deadpan-expression, trying to shake the crippling fear and nervousness off while looking nonchalant.

Nam-gyu’s finger kept hovering over the call button to check on you in case something happened because there could be a whole other person talking to him by how there were no affirmations at all.

He doesn’t want to appear clingy or too attached to you as that may scare you off or even disgust you, so Nam-gyu’s casually mention that one time you didn’t say “I love you” while fidgeting with his ring, trying to appear indifferent about it while intensely watching your facial expression shift to try and detect if you’re lying about your reasoning or not.

Your boyfriend is afraid to not be good enough, too much, too little. Your little affirmations give him reassurance, every day a little more until he’s full convinced that you do really, really love him.

“Hey, uhhh. Did you forget anything today?… No? You sure? Mkay.”

Dae-ho // Player 388

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Never happens. Either he is dead and not able to reply to you or already said it multiple times throughout the day. Dae-ho has separation anxiety and gets nervous when he doesn’t have you in line of his sight or not around him in general, that’s why he always tells you how much he loves you whenever he can.

Off to the bathroom? I love you. Bringing the trash out? I love you. Getting dressed? You’re gorgeous and I love you. You could be simply existing and Dae-ho would bury his face in your neck and mumble a soft I love you into your warm skin, his lips planting a soft kiss here and there.

Dae-ho is just a little scared about saying his usual affirmation in front of his family, mostly his father. He’s a very affectionate and physical man but he still wants to look like the tough-marine-son his dad wants to see.

His sisters know better though, they see how their brother’s eyes twinkle in delight when you help his mom out in the kitchen with the dinner.

He does make it up to you after coming home though. Your boyfriend will stuff the leftovers his mom gave him into the microwave and usher to you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he makes some preparations to completely pamper you for the rest of the evening.

Sometimes Dae-ho’ll even try to flirt a little but he’s still a little awkward in that department.

“Hey, do you want some snacks with that? A drink? O-Or am I enough of a snack…?”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Every time Dae-ho tells you that he loves you, you always reply with equal enthusiasm. How could you not? That golden retriever of a man gets that almost childish smile of his whenever you kiss his cheek or just tell him that he looks handsome today.

Once, you tested how he’d react when you don’t give him his hourly dose of dopamine by deflecting or ignoring his touches.

As his arms securely snaked around your waist and gently pulled you against his torso, you paid him no mind and continued to stir the ramen in the food container. He watched the noodles move in circles and gave your waist a gentle poke, trying to pull your attention to him. Dae-ho’s eyes slowly dimmed and the edges of his smile turned downwards.

The silence made him seriously nervous. You could feel his rapidly increasing heartbeat drum against your back.

“Hey… is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?…”

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Gi-hun always reassures you of his love, even during arguments. He wants you to know that he cherishes and loves you for the rest of his life and that you are his everything. Whenever he doesn’t say I love you, something must’ve happened.

He has been missing for a whole week and you had no idea where your boyfriend went. Gi-hun didn’t leave a note, a voice mail, no nothing!

And after he returned and suddenly began giving you expensive gifts, the same boyfriend that used to ask you for money to get himself an convenience store dinner, now began buying you new headphones, bracelet and whatever else you even eyed.

It was nice, sure, but you were more worried about his mental state. He was paranoid and quiet, kept checking his whole body for some kind of tracker and barely ever spoke what was on his mind. Gi-hun began having panic attacks and you were barely able to leave his side because of how terrified he was to leave you alone.

He barely touched you, gave you kisses or affection. He changed after whatever happened during that week he went missing.

While running your fingers through his hair, trying to make him fall asleep after being awake for two days straight, he sleepily stared up at you through his dyed-red hair. His voice was quiet, broken almost.

“I’m sorry. Please… know that I love you. I love you so much.. Don’t leave me, please… please...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

Your boyfriend called out to you but you didn’t quite hear what he said, so you replied with an “yeah!” and just hoped that that’s an appropriate response to whatever he tried to tell or ask you. It wasn’t.

Gi-hun stood there for a couple of moments, waiting on your reply to yelling “I love you!” across the whole apartment. When nothing came, he didn’t call out to you again. You were probably busy with something or don’t want him with your right now, he gets that.

Later though, thoughts of self-doubt began to cook up inside his mind. As he bit all his nails to shreds he overthought about how you had enough of him now. Maybe you are falling out of love now after how the death games fucked up his mind and body. You’re surely fed up with his paranoia and secretive behaviour, how much he has been obsession over finding a weird salesman. Surely.

The metallic taste that spread inside his mouth after biting the skin surrounding his nails began to open and bleed finally pulled Gi-hun out of his self-destructive thoughts that continued to circle like a toy train. Picking up his throwaway phone and choosing the one contact he saved on every single burner phone he had as “Reason to smile ❤️” and pressing the call button.

“Gi-hun? What’s wrong?” Your voice forced a small smile to form on his face. He hesitated

“Hey. Just wanted to ask if I should bring some take out home tonight. That’s all.”

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s purely just to tease you. When bored, In-ho will make you his greatest entertainment.

He likes making you annoyed and flustered, so he’ll intentionally ignore you just to make you react and pout at him adorably while he was trying so hard to keep his stone cold face and not break into a shit-eating grin and maybe even pull on your cheek to make you whine even more.

In-ho adores your whole being and cherishes all of your affections, so he’ll let himself get showered in them any tome he can.

Expect you to he cuddled up on his lap while he was leaning back in the leather chair, mumbling a complaint about how you covered his whole face in kisses but managed to miss the bridge of his nose. He will not allow you to move off his lap until you covered his whole face in kisses again as compensation for that mistake of yours.

So, In-ho’ll intentionally not give you affection so you pay even more attention to him. He is like a cat in that way weirdly enough.

Once you finally break his facade, the flood gates will open and you will be showered, bathed, drowned in his affection, physical and verbal.

“Fine. I’ll say it just because you’ve been so good to me today. I love you, my dearest, lovely darling.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

In-ho has a dedicated frequency on his walkie-talkie for you, so he can call in and ask you to come to his office for a kiss that cannot wait, to inform you that he is in the bedroom and retiring for the day or just to tell you that he loves you randomly throughout the day.

Of course, you’d always reply back with your own gadget, but to pay back his infinite teasing he has done to you, you decided to ignore him the way he sometimes does to you. Payback.

Your husband called into your frequency. “Dove, are you free right now? Come to my office, I miss you.” and so your game begins. You simply ignored his request and continued getting comfortable in your bed and all the sheets surrounding you, grinning to yourself as you awaited the next time In-ho calls in again, for which you don’t have to wait long for.

“Darling, I am waiting. Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?” Your grin widened as you heard how impatient he was slowly getting with the lack of your response. “I can see you in the bedroom.” That one caught you off guard. Did he install cameras in your shared bedroom??

Almost on cue, your bedroom door opened, revealing the masked Frontman. His shoulders were tense and you could feel his intense state through the mask. You stared back, not expecting how quickly your husband would cave in and visit you himself. Innocently, you batted your lashes at him.

In-ho slipped his mask off and carelessly tossed it on the nightstand. “Why are you ignoring me? Are you upset or just moody?” Unimpressed, you silently glared at him. He gave you an equally uninterested look and leaned down to your face to give you a small peck on your cheek. “Not enough. More.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as his lips cracked into a smile.

“Demanding, aren’t we? Fine. As you wish.”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading <3

Watch me announce that I’m going to post In-ho’s yandere profile and proceed to get hit with the most ungodly group-assignment in Chemistry. Anyways, take this as an apology! Had to write a little fluff for them since the only thing I’m finding is smut 🙏😭 I’m not complaining but this fluff prompt came to me like a truck during a class of mine. It was originally inspired by this post and I made a similar one before for the Demon Slayer hashira. Check it out if you’re interested!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[tojipie]

˚ ✧ ────────

you’re 5 minutes into your first round and to be quite honest, you’ve never been more sure that fushiguro toji and his god given ability to dirty talk is something you’ll take to your grave.

you’d been with other guys before, ones with a nasty habit of running their mouths during sex. ones that’d grab you by the neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were, how they couldn’t wait to fuck you again.

toji is entirely different. nothing, and i truly mean nothing, compares to that old man when it comes to mouthing off in the bedroom. he’s formulating sentences you never thought possible, spewing stuff that would have you clutching your pearls and running for the hills any other given day.

you’re holding onto your composure by your teeth hearing him say the things he does, thighs and arms burning as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“take what you need pretty. uh huh, keep fucking me,” he chuckles, winding a fist into your hair to pull you back onto his cock when he notices you trying to crawl away.

you honestly don’t think you can take it anymore. if the way your guts were currently being pummeled into oblivion wasn’t enough, the way he’s talking to you right now has you in crisis.

it’s all too good, suspiciously good, and embarrassingly enough, you think you might be nearing your edge only 7 minutes after making it to his bed. your arms fail you as you try to crawl up the bed and away from the too-good feeling currently frying every wire in your brain.

“awww, you runnin’ from me?,” he laughs, letting your hair go to cage you in from behind, two solid arms settling on either side of your head.

your words escape you each time you muster up a response, eyes rolling back and he takes over again, shoving you face down and absolutely destroying that special spot tucked away inside of you. toji’s like a furnace, cooking you alive with the heat the radiates add his abs and chest.

“told ya you couldn’t handle it,” he teases, watching you writhe under him. “not with this dick.”

you feel something wet—a tongue you realize— traveling up the base of your spine and tapering off at your neck before solid teeth clamp down on the skin there.

okay, wow. fuck. you realize he’d lapped up the moisture settling in the dip of your back, licking the sweat from your skin like an animal.

“gonna let me taste every part of you? hmm?” he says in that too sweet voice you only hear when he’s teasing. he lets go of your neck with a pop to admire the bruise his bite leaves in its wake, sucking another one right under it for good measure.

you fall over the edge with no warning, so overwhelmed with pleasure that your mind and body continue to work separately.

the sound toji makes is beautiful. low, long, and guttural. radiating from the deepest part of his chest like a fan, and for a minute, you think he might be feeling the same overwhelming pleasure you are.

“ughh-hah don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers over and over, massaging the fat of your ass while your body flutters around him. you feel something viscous leak out of you, dripping down the seam of your heat and onto the sheets.

“when the fuck did you have time to cum?,” you finally muster. you don’t think you’d be able to move if your life depended on it, limbs sinking into the mattress like tubes of jelly. you really can’t move once you feel 200 pounds of laughing muscle settle on top of you, keeping you grounded like a paperweight on a measly little envelope.

“what, y’ quitting on all of this?” he laughs, gesturing up and down himself so you know just how irresistible he thinks he is. the worst part is that he’s right, just based off of how hard he’d rocked your world in the last 10 or so minutes.

you feel invigorated by some stroke of a miracle, pressing back on his still-leaking dick as a silent invitation.

“what, more? y’need more of me you little minx?” he laughs, grrriiiinding his tip right up against that fleeting spot you would have never been able to get to on your own.

and just like that he’s back to fucking you, pulling you into him like a toy at that same perfect pace.

“bite me hard if y’ want me to stop, you hear me?” he commands, shoving your face back into the pillows once he sees you nod.

[theminecraftbee]

Grian sits on the edge of a desert cliff, watching the sunrise. His knuckles are bloody. He's had this dream before, and he's lived this moment before. He's awfully tired of it, honestly. He's not even particularly sad anymore. It's hard to be particularly sad, this long after, this much more between them.

But his knuckles are bloody again. There's someone sitting next to him.

"Joel?" he says, baffled.

"Yeah, hi, really weird bloody dreamscape you've got. Literally and figuratively: bloody hell. Like, Scott, he's got this pretty cottage and all these flowers and the single most terrifying version of Jimmy that I've seen in my life. Which serves him right, since he's a bastard, and I told him that. Or, uh, Pearl. She's normal. She's got dogs and... shit, I don't know--"

"Why are you here?" Grian asks.

"Oh, right, I was tasked with asking you if you regret it," Joel says.

There's a long moment of silence. The wind blows.

"I mean. No?" Grian says.

"Right? That's what I said! Blumin' stupid question, that!" Joel says.

"Wait, you mentioned--are you asking everyone that?" Grian asks.

"Yeah! It was all, oh, you've got a car, you can travel, it'll be all poetic like. You've had a 'character arc'--like I'm some, some fake guy--and grown as a person, everyone else has to, would they do things differently now? And I said, man, that's stupid. That's really stupid. But the glowing purple eyes guys--"

"Wait wait wait wait, the who?" Grian interrupts.

"Sorry, do you not know the glowing purple eyes guys? Martyn was acting like you're all buddies or something. Then I punched him. Because it was funny," Joel says.

"No, I know the--they asked you to do this?" Grian says. He takes a moment to try to imagine it. He has some trouble. Joel and the Watchers don't really belong in the same place at the same time for so many reasons that Grian doesn't know where to begin.

"Apparently, I'm not being serious enough," Joel informs Grian. "I kinda get it, actually. Like, everyone but Cleo has been somewhere like..."

Joel looks out over the cliff. It is tall, and Grian knows he cannot see the ground from the top. He had been able to during the actual games, of course, but these aren't the actual games; these are the memories of what brought him to victory, made manifest.

"So I guess I kinda wondered, since you lot always seem so blumin' sad about it," Joel finishes.

"I'm not really," Grian says.

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, maybe once, but--nah. Not really."

"Cool. That's the last one then," Joel says. "Hear that, weird glowing eyes guys? You act like I'm all weird or whatever but none of them regret it either. Not a single one of them."

Grian looks over the cliff again himself.

"None of us?" he asks, very quietly indeed.

Joel sighs. "All of you asked that too. I'm getting back in the bloody car."

Grian doesn't watch Joel leave. He rubs the blood off his knuckles and watches the sky instead. When he's tired thinking in circles about how he didn't really expect that he would be telling the truth, just then, he starts trying to imagine the trouble Joel might be giving everyone else instead. It's much more fun to think about than the sand that's getting in his socks. He's never able to get sand out of anything, these days, and it leaves him always just a little bit uncomfortable. Oh well; the price of being in a desert. He wouldn't be anywhere else if he had the choice, though, grit in his socks or not.

[reignpage]

how do you think jjk men are with embarrassing moments during sex? like if something embarrassing that happens to either them or their partner, do they play it off, try to inject humor, swear off sex to be a monk?

i read a similar post by an author advocating for well, not just more realistic depictions of sex in fics, but to include some of the awkwardness present in them too?? their post included geto’s hair getting stuck in butt cracks, Toji pulling a muscle, Nanami losing his boner, and Choso full on shitting himself accidentally to help with reader’s embarrassment over queefing 😭😭😭

like yes it’s funny and bonkers but cuz sex isn’t always the passionate sexy fuckfest we see in fics/movies, people don’t always cum at the same time, yes you DO need lube AND prep, foreplay DOES matter, dryness or losing an erection midway no matter how horny you are is common yano?? 😤😤

lowkey wanted to go anon lest you call me perpetually horny 😭 but ignore me if my shit’s getting old

own your shit bae, no pun intended. ur horniness could never get old. I like these questions cause they're like brain teasers. okay okay lemme have a go

Gojo:

says a cringy line

I can totally see him trying something new that he thinks would be super sexy like

"oh yeah? you like that? you're such a dirty whore, aren't you? come on, cum and show me who you're daddy is."

reader will pause and stare at him like, did you hear yourself?

gojo will have a moment of realisation and give himself the ick. even he has limits.

he collapses on top of reader and begs her to forget that, will be a blushing mess.

he'll think about it once in a while and cringe

but in the moment, he'd throw a tantrum if you can't stop laughing and making fun of him.

"it wasn't that bad! you're being mean, seriously. I just got caught up, okay? stop laughinggggg"

gets very pouty, protests, and you have to seduce him back, really compliment the hell out of him

then he'll force you on top and make you take the lead so he doesn't give himself another opportunity to be embarassing

Geto:

trying to switch positions in a tight space and then you accidentally rest your elbow on his long hair and he almost rips outs chunks

probably gets irritated because you've damaged his brilliant hair

takes a breather and then starts back up again

punishes you during sex

will crack a smile if you do

"yeah, alright, laugh it up. but if I develop a bald spot, neither of us will be laughing."

will make sure that never happens again

might even pull your hair during sex to show you how it feels (not too hard obvi)

Choso:

might get too subby lol

like "am I a good boy mommy? am I doing good? I don't want my mommy to be mad at me" and he's in tears

idk how to write mommy kinks lol

and you both have a moment of clarity where it's like, damnnn you okay? didn't know you had trauma like that

he'll get very shy and embarrassed

might even start crying, trying to run away

you'll have to reassure him it's fine and then just go slowly and gently, having more loveydovey sex

late at night, he'll ask you if you really didn't mind because he doesn't want you to be freaked out or think he's not a man

but I imagine it'd become a kink you indulge him once in a while

just gotta teach him it's okay, just don't spring it on someone mid act lol

Toji:

trying a really acrobatic fucking position, whether in the living room or in the shower, gets his footing wrong and slips, smacks his head against the wall, takes you down with him

he knocks himself out

you have to wrangle his 200 pound or something body in to a safe lying position and wait for him to come to

when he does and he remembers what happens

bro is in denial

no he didn't slip

no he didn't overestimate himself

no it didn't hurt

no he's not embarrassed stop asking him

gets very grumpy and will storm off, grumbling under his breath

comes back calmer

neither of you mention it but it hangs in the air as you both prepare dinner together

once sat across each other, you make an eye contact and you burst out laughing

he rolls his eyes but he's got a smile on his lips

"yeah yeah, what fucking ever. you try lifting your heavy ass up whilst you're balls deep"

next time tho, he gets you back by forcing you to endure vanilla sex, going very slow and shallow and overly sweet

makes you beg for him to fuck you normally

he'll consider it

Nanami:

drunk sex, becomes wayyyy too emotional

"sweetheart, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire world, I love you so much do you know that? I honestly -hiccup!- c-can't live without you, oh goodness, please don't make me live without you!"

he's still inside, he's not even thrusting anymore, he's just crying into your neck like a baby

you're brushing his hair, shushing him, orgasms forgotten

might vomit on you a little

wakes up with a killer hangover and a night full of memories he wishes he could erase

"oh god, honey. I'm so terribly sorry. I can't believe I did something so ridiculous. no I know loving you openly isn't ridiculous, but I wouldn't be wrong to say crying, leaving you unsatisfied, forcing you to care for a man child, and cherry on top, vomitting on you is just a little ridiculous."

has to go make it up to himself for being a terrible husband

will spoil you for the rest of the week

or anytime he remembers

might actually drink less because of it lol

Sukuna:

he'd kill you if he did something embarrassing

pray he never does

[wolvietxt]

𝓢ILENT 𝓣REATMENT.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : argument, crying, hurt / comfort, happy ending, established relationship au, shouting, implied size diff (like my fav trope if you can’t already tell) silent treatment  summary : after an argument with frank, you both end up giving eachother silent treatment, until the tension gets too unbearable for you in the car. wc : 4.5k a/n : i got a req for this a few days ago but i think i deleted it or something i can’t find it now💔 but it was from an anon so thank you for this one because i loved writing this ALSO!! thank you to everyone who leaves feedback + little comments on my frank fics i notice it happens more when i write for frank and it’s the absolute sweetest

the air in the apartment felt heavy, charged, like a storm was brewing right there in the middle of the living room. frank was pacing now, his big hands flexing at his sides, his jaw tight enough that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.  

you didn’t fight - not like this. not with him raising his voice and you trying so hard not to let yours crack. it wasn’t how things usually went. frank was tough, sure, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t really go away even when he was at his gentlest. but with you, he was softer. he made an effort to rein it in because he’d told you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he didn’t want you to ever be scared of him. and you never had been.

but tonight, he was angry. angrier than you’d ever seen him at you, and the worst part was you weren’t sure how it had even escalated to this.  

“so what?” frank barked, spinning on his heel to face you, his broad frame taking up what felt like the entire room. “you think i’m just gonna sit back and let this slide?” his voice was sharp, cutting, and it made you flinch, even though you knew deep down that he’d never in a million years actually hurt you. “you think that’s who i am?”  

you held your ground, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. “it’s not about letting it slide, frank,” you said softly, your tone calm, measured - a stark contrast to the heat in his voice. “it’s about not making it worse. escalating doesn’t fix anything.”  

“escalating?” he repeated, his voice rising, almost incredulous. “this isn’t escalating, this is handling it. you don’t just let people treat you like crap n’ walk away. you should know that’s not how it works.”  

“sometimes it is,” you said quietly, refusing to match his volume. “sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do. not everything has to be a fight.”  

“bullshit.” the word came out harsh, and the bite in it made your chest tighten. frank rarely swore at you, and when he did, it was never like this, never with this kind of edge.  

your hands trembled slightly, so you folded your arms across your chest, not in defiance but as a way to steady yourself. “frank, please. i don’t want to argue about this.”  

“yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went and tried to handle this on your own.” he threw his hands up, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking. “you didn’t even tell me, and now i’m supposed to just sit back and be okay with it?”  

“i didn’t tell you because i knew this is how you’d react,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his face twisted, a mixture of disbelief and something else - hurt, maybe. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hard, almost cold expression. “damn right this is how i’d react,” he shot back. “because i give a shit. because i don’t want you getting hurt or screwed over or whatever the hell else might happen if i’m not there to step in.”  

“i know you care,” you said, your voice still soft but firm. “but you can’t control everything, frank. sometimes things happen, and you just have to let them go.”  

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “letting it go gets you hurt. letting it go gets you walked all over. i’m not gonna let that happen to you.”  

his words were loud, forceful, like he was trying to hammer them into your head, but they only made your throat tighten more. “i can handle myself,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts.  

“can you?” he snapped, and the doubt in his tone stung worse than any of the yelling.  

you flinched, your eyes dropping to the floor. “that’s not fair,” you whispered.  

“yeah, well, life’s not fair,” he shot back, his tone still razor-sharp.  

silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but you refused to cry - not in front of him, not when he was like this, which he never had been before. you’d seen flashes of it occasionally, never once directed at you. so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, your steps quick but steady, your back straight even though every part of you felt like curling up into yourself.  

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you left.  

the door clicked softly as you shut yourself in the bathroom, leaning back against the cool wood as you tried to pull in a steadying breath. it felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs back in the living room, and now the weight of it all was crashing down on you.  

you stared at the tiled floor, your arms wrapped around yourself like that might somehow hold you together. your chest felt tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you bit down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let them fall. not yet, anyway.  

you weren’t used to this - not with frank. he could be sharp, blunt, even infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, but he was never cruel. not to you. in the years since you’d met him, since the whirlwind of your relationship had gone from cautiously circling each other to something real and steady, frank had always been your safe place. he was intense, sure, but his intensity had always felt protective, grounding, like you could lean on him no matter how bad things got.  

so why did it feel like he was the one knocking the ground out from under you now?  

you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. it wasn’t fair to pin all the blame on him, you knew that. this argument wasn’t entirely about frank’s temper, or his need to protect you - it was about your own unwillingness to let him.  

the issue had started small, just a casual remark you’d made earlier in the week about someone you worked with - someone who’d been taking advantage of your kindness. you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but frank had picked up on it immediately, and the more you’d tried to brush it off, the more his protective instincts had kicked in.  

at first, it had been sweet, his quiet grumbles about how people didn’t deserve to treat you that way, how you needed to stand up for yourself more. but somewhere along the line, it had turned into this - a full-blown argument where neither of you seemed to be able to see the other’s side.  

you weren’t blind to why he was upset. frank had been through more than most people could even imagine, and the idea of someone hurting you - or even disrespecting you - lit a fire in him that he couldn’t always control. but the way he handled that fire was what made your chest ache. it felt suffocating, like his need to protect you was overshadowing the fact that you didn’t want - or need - him to fight your battles for you.  

you let out a shaky breath, the first tear slipping free as the weight of it all settled heavier on your shoulders.  

frank had always been larger than life to you - not just physically, though his sheer size and strength made you feel small in comparison, but in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command every room he walked into. it was part of what had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that bordered on intimidating until you saw the softness he tried so hard to hide.  

he’d always been gentle with you, even when his hands were so calloused and rough, even when his voice was so gravelly and low. it made the harshness of his words tonight cut deeper, the sharp edges of his anger something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.  

you wiped at your face quickly, straightening up as you tried to pull yourself together. you hated crying - especially over arguments like this. it made you feel weak, even though you knew it wasn’t, and the last thing you wanted was for frank to think he’d broken you. he’d never stop beating himself up over it.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back out there yet. not with the way his words were still echoing in your mind, the frustration in his voice still ringing in your ears.  

you stayed there for a while, letting the quiet of the bathroom wrap around you like a blanket, giving yourself the space to breathe and feel without the weight of frank’s presence bearing down on you.  

meanwhile, in the living room, frank was pacing again. his hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was deep in thought - or pissed off.  

he knew you were upset. hell, he wasn’t an idiot, and he’d seen the way your eyes were brimming with tears before you’d turned and walked away. it wasn’t the first time he’d pushed too hard, but it was the first time it had been directed at you, and it was eating at him in a way he didn’t want to admit.  

but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t seem to let it go. it wasn’t directed at you - not at all. it was at the situation, at the asshole who’d made you feel like you had to handle everything on your own. but frank wasn’t exactly good at untangling those things, at separating his frustration from the people he cared about most.  

he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low growl of frustration as he dropped onto the couch. his mind was running in circles, replaying the argument over and over again, each word sharper than the last.  

the silence in the apartment felt deafening, and for a moment, he considered going to find you, to try and talk this out. but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay put. you needed space - he knew that much, even if it went against every instinct he had.  

he sat there for a long time, the tension in his body refusing to ease as he stared at the spot where you’d been standing just minutes before.  

the car keys sat on the counter, untouched, while the clock crept closer to the time you were supposed to leave. it had been a whole thing - this charity function a few towns over. someone important to frank had invited him, and even though it wasn’t the kind of event he’d normally go for, he’d said yes because it mattered to them.  

you had said yes because it mattered to him.  

but now, with the argument still heavy in the air, the thought of sitting next to him for almost four hours felt like trying to breathe underwater. the quiet that lingered between you wasn’t the natural kind you often enjoyed. it was thick and suffocating, and neither of you seemed ready to cut through it.  

you stood in the bedroom doorway, watching frank tie his boots like the act itself had wronged him. his movements were sharp, jerky, and his mouth was set in a grim line. you weren’t sure if it was guilt or frustration written in his expression, but either way, it left your stomach in knots.  

he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, yanking it on with a force that looked like it made the seams strain. his head turned slightly toward you as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, his eyes dropping to the floor instead.  

you didn’t move, didn’t speak, just hovered in the doorway as he brushed past you toward the front door. the weight of it all - the argument, the way he hadn’t looked at you since - pressed down on your chest like a boulder, and your throat burned with more unshed tears.  

when he held the door open for you, you walked through it wordlessly, your gaze fixed on the floor.  

outside, the crisp night air felt sharper than it should have, like even the weather was conspiring to remind you how raw everything was. frank locked the door behind you without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place made you flinch.  

he didn’t notice.  

the car ride loomed ahead of you like a punishment, the thought of sitting in that confined space together for hours making your palms sweat. but there was no way out of it, not without causing more problems.  

frank climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. he started the engine without looking at you, the low growl of it filling the space where words should’ve been.  

you slid into the passenger seat, keeping your hands in your lap and your gaze fixed on the window. the city lights blurred into streaks as the car picked up speed, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. your mind was stuck on everything that had been said - and everything that hadn’t.  

he’d been angry. louder than usual, harsher, the words tumbling out of him like he didn’t know how to stop them. but you knew frank. you knew the fire in him wasn’t because he didn’t care - it was because he cared too much, and it scared him sometimes.  

still, knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.  

the silence in the car was unbearable, the kind that made you want to fill it just so you didn’t have to sit with the weight of it anymore. but frank wasn’t giving you an inch, his eyes glued to the road and his shoulders hunched up like he was trying to shield himself from the world.  

you stole a glance at him, your chest aching at the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. he looked tired - angry, yes, but tired too, like the argument had drained him in ways he didn’t want to admit.  

your own emotions were bubbling up, threatening to spill over no matter how hard you tried to keep them in check. your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you clenched them into fists to try to stop it, but it didn’t help.  

you didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear slipped down your cheek, cool against your flushed skin. you brushed it away quickly, hoping frank wouldn’t notice, but you doubted he’d even glanced your way.  

the road stretched on, dark and empty except for the occasional glow of headlights from oncoming cars. the longer the silence dragged, the heavier it felt, like it was wrapping around your throat and making it hard to breathe.  

eventually, the ache in your chest grew too much to bear. you didn’t know what you wanted - comfort, maybe, or some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay - but the urge to reach out was overwhelming.  

your hand hovered hesitantly over the center console, your fingers trembling as you debated whether or not to do it. it felt like crossing some invisible line, like putting yourself out there in a way that left you completely vulnerable.  

but then you glanced at frank, at the way his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, and something in you broke.  

with tears brimming in your eyes and a small, helpless pout tugging at your lips, you let your fingers reach up to grasp at his. the touch was so light it was barely there, but it was enough to draw his attention.  

he glanced down at your hand, his gaze softening instantly as he took in the way your fingers trembled and the sheen of tears in your eyes, the wet tracks of tears that’d already fallen etched on your face.

“ah, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.  

his hand moved to cover yours completely, his fingers curling around your smaller ones in a gesture that felt both protective and grounding. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand in slow, deliberate strokes, and the tension in your chest eased just a little.  

you sniffled, blinking quickly to clear your vision as you looked up at him. his expression had shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he met your gaze.  

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.  

frank let out a heavy sigh, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he pulled the car off to the side of the road. the tires crunched against the gravel as he put it in park, and before you could ask what he was doing, he was out of the car.  

your breath caught as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his movements deliberate but not rushed. he opened your door, the cool night air rushing in as he crouched slightly to meet your eyes.  

“c’mere,” he said softly, his tone a stark contrast to the anger that had been there earlier.  

you hesitated for only a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt and letting him pull you into his arms. his embrace was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel small and safe all at once.  

“’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “shouldn’t’ve yelled. shouldn’t’ve made you feel like that.”  

you buried your face in his chest, your own arms slipping around his middle as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry too,” you whispered.  

“you don’t gotta be sorry, you did nothing wrong. my sweet girl’s just nice to everyone, isn’t she?” he cooed, his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently against your temple as he peppered hard kisses over your face. “we’re okay?”  

you nodded against him, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “we’re okay.”  

he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than before. but instead of pulling back completely, frank’s lips trailed down, brushing lightly against your temple, then your cheek.  

your breath hitched, your hand tightening around his shirt as he hesitated, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. when your eyes flicked up to meet his, there was something unspoken between you - an ache, a pull that neither of you could ignore.  

“frank…” your voice was barely a whisper, and it only made him lean in closer.  

his hand moved to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips finally found yours. the kiss was slow at first, soft and careful, but there was a heat behind it, a depth that made your stomach twist in the best way.  

he kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how tightly he held you. his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him just enough to make you feel the strength behind every touch, every movement.  

when he pulled back, it was with a low, rumbling breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something deeper.  

your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as you tried to find the words, but all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping the front of his shirt.  

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before stepping back. “c’mon,” he said, his tone softer now, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before helping you back into the car.  

as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand found yours again, holding on tightly. this time, neither of you let go.  

the rest of the drive was quiet, but not in the same way as before. frank kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours firmly in his grasp. his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent apology with every stroke.  

you felt the tension melting bit by bit, your chest no longer tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. instead, there was this warmth - a softness between you that hadn’t been there earlier. it was unspoken, but it was enough to ease the ache in your heart.  

“we’ll stop soon, yeah?” frank broke the silence, his voice low and softer than usual. “get you somethin’ to eat.”  

your lips curved into a small smile, your first real one since the argument. “i’m okay,” you murmured. “we don’t have to stop.”  

“nah.” he glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “you didn’t eat much earlier. ain’t lettin’ you sit through this thing hungry.”  

the tenderness in his voice made your cheeks heat, and you squeezed his hand lightly in response.  

it wasn’t long before frank pulled off at a small diner on the side of the road. the neon sign flickered against the night sky, casting a warm glow over the parking lot.  

“c’mon,” he said, cutting the engine and stepping out.  

before you could even reach for the door handle, frank was already there, pulling it open for you. his hand was outstretched, waiting for yours, and when you slipped your fingers into his, he gave them a gentle squeeze.  

inside, the diner was quiet, the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the space. frank led you to a booth in the corner, his hand never leaving yours until you slid into your seat.  

“what’re you in the mood for?” he asked, his eyes scanning the menu even though you both knew he’d end up ordering the same thing he always did.  

you shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in front of you. “maybe just some fries.”  

frank frowned, lowering the menu to look at you. “you need more than that.”  

“frank, i’m fine - ”  

“i’ll get you somethin’ else too,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you bit back a smile, knowing better than to push him when he got like this. instead, you let him order for both of you, his gruff voice somehow softer when he spoke to the waitress.  

when the food arrived, frank nudged the plate closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly when you hesitated. “eat, sweetheart,” he said gently.  

you rolled your eyes but grabbed a fry anyway, earning a satisfied grunt from him.  

as you ate, the tension from earlier felt like a distant memory. frank had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like no matter how bad things got, everything would eventually be okay.  

after the meal, frank walked you back to the car, his hand settling on the small of your back as he guided you outside. the night air was crisp, but his touch was warm, steady, and it made you lean into him just a little.  

“y’alright?” he asked once you were back in the passenger seat.  

you nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile. “yeah. i’m okay.”  

his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. it was quick but tender, and when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek for a second longer.  

the drive to the function was quieter this time, but it wasn’t the heavy silence from before. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet where words weren’t necessary because you both knew everything was okay now.  

as you pulled up to the venue, frank cut the engine and turned to you. his expression was softer, his usual rough edges smoothed out in a way that made your heart ache.  

“you look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff but sincere.  

your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you glanced down at your dress, suddenly feeling shy. “thank you,” you murmured.  

he leaned over, his large hand settling on your knee as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “‘m gonna keep tellin’ you that all night,” he added, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks.  

the warmth in your chest grew, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “you don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, your tone light.  

he chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and you swore it was the best thing you’d heard all day.  

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, opening his door. “let’s get this over with.”  

as you stepped out of the car, frank was already by your side, his hand finding yours once more. he held it tightly, his grip firm and reassuring, and when he glanced down at you, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch.  

it was love - raw and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.  

and in that moment, you knew that no matter what, you and frank would always find your way back to each other.  

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Love like a Fairytale ˚₊‧ა❤︎

JJ Maybank x Fem!Virgin!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, heavy smut, minimal cursing, fluff, reader is a virgin, first time sex, fingering, size kink, corruption kink, friends to lovers, cum licking, way too many pet names

Word Count: 3.7k

Plot: JJ Maybank is your best friend. You find it hard to believe he could be anything more. But when you both confess love to each other, your world takes a romance-story like turn. You have no previous skill in dating, but JJ is more than willing to guide you along.

A/n: I think I went into a fever dream while writing this. Anyway, enjoy this soft!JJ moment! (P.S. Reader loves reading in this, so if you don’t pretend it’s your favorite video game or smth)

The sun dipped slowly behind the horizon. The trees in your yard shone with the orange-tinted light. Your legs swung back and forth as you sat on the hanging bench on your front porch, reading a book. A glass of lemonade, almost empty, sat by your feet on the wood floorboards. You were wearing a yellow checker-patterned dress that was tied with a white bow in the back.

You heard footsteps on the front walk and looked up. It was your best friend, JJ Maybank. Strands of his blonde hair, slightly tinted from the sun, hung into his eyes.

You waved to him and set the book down in your lap, smiling. He waved back and stepped onto the porch, his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

“What’s up?” He greeted you, his familiar voice a welcome sound in your ears.

You shrugged. “Just reading. What are you doing here?”

“I was bored.” He sat down on the bench next to you, resulting in you swinging back and forth a few times.

His eyes trailed over your dress quickly. “You look nice.” Just like JJ to compliment you. He was always nice to you.

“Thank you,” you replied. You had met JJ and his friend group of Pogues at school back in elementary, and you had hit it off from there. You can’t remember a summer you hadn’t spent with him going swimming and laughing at his bad jokes.

“The sunset is nice, isn’t it?” JJ looked out over the houses, where you could just make out the blue shimmer of the ocean.

Kind of reminded you of JJ’s eyes, which had just moved to look down at you.

“It is.” You looked away after a moment and back at your book, still open on your lap. “Would you like to hear about the book I’m reading?”

“Sure, why not.” This was another thing you had always liked about JJ. He always acted interested in the things you did, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy them himself, such as reading. No matter what it was, he still gave you his attention.

Reading was an activity you loved. It took you away to faraway places, where dragons, fairies, and witches were real. It had always been a comfort since your mom told you fairytales when you were younger.

You turned the cover over so he could see the front. “Okay, so…” You began telling him about the book, diving into the plot, the characters, the storytelling. JJ watched you intently the entire time, nodding here and there and asking questions. Another person might have gotten tired of hearing you chat on and on, but with JJ he would pay attention to you for hours. You always felt comfortable with him, like all of your worries and self-consciousness had drifted away.

When you finished your explanation, JJ grinned at you. “Thanks for telling me about this book. You really know how to make someone feel part of a tale.”

You felt yourself blush slightly. “No problem. You probably have to go, don’t you?” 

JJ nodded, his gaze lingering for a few seconds longer. “I should get going then. See you tomorrow.” He got up off of the bench and left down the street. You watched him go until he was too far away to see. His face was still fresh in the front of your mind.

You saw JJ again the next day, reading the same book on the porch in the heat of the afternoon.

He smiled at you as he joined you in your favorite sitting place. “Hey there. Care to catch me up on that great book you’re working on?”

“Of course.” Your cheeks flushed a little as you turned to the book in your hands. You started describing the new chapter to him and the events that had unfolded since you left off with him yesterday.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur with JJ while he watched and listened calmly. By the time you stopped talking, the sun had already begun to set.

JJ checked his watch then looked back at you apologetically. “I’ve got to head home right about now. I’ll see you around, ‘aight?”

You nodded. “See ya.” There was something warm simmering in his eyes as they met yours. It matched the feeling in your chest. Before you could decipher what it was, he tore away from your gaze and walked away from you down the concrete path.

You couldn’t speak. Something about him left you speechless and pondering long after you spent time alone together.

You sipped your soda at a table in the local fast-food restaurant with your friend, Kiara. You hands were folded underneath your chin.

Kiara munched on a cardboard container of fries. “So I heard JJ’s been coming over recently. What’s that all about?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. I’ve been telling him about the books I’ve been reading.”

“Really? Because he sure visits an awful lot. And you’re the only one he seems to want to talk to nowadays.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

“Oh, c’mon, just admit you like him already. It’s pretty obvious you guys are a thing.” Kiara teased.

Your head snapped up to look at her, shocked. “I— no, we’re just friends, I promise. That’s all,” you said firmly.

She sighed and shook her head. “Whatever you say.”

There was an uneasy emotion in your gut. You and JJ had always been best friends, nothing more. You would admit, over the years of evenings spent in each others presence, you had grown closer. But you didn’t have much experience with relationships in the first place. How would you know if he liked you?

Kiara’s words rang in your head as you lay in bed that night. What if she was right after all, and the countless times you saw that look in JJ’s eyes, tender and longing, and he brought over your favorite candies and the new novel by your favorite author when you were sick, had all meant he had fallen for you?

Or, a voice in your head said, you were delusional. Which was likely. Why would someone like JJ like you? You weren’t pretty enough. You weren’t smart enough. You weren’t good enough for anyone. But what if… what if you were good enough for him? 

Your heart wanted you to believe. But you couldn’t. Not until you knew for sure.

It was beach day for the Pogues. The sun was shining and most of your friends were catching the waves, surfing while shouting “Woo!” and laughing whenever someone wiped out.

Not you and JJ though. You were sitting on a beach towel facing the ocean, the seagulls squawking and trying to get into the sandwiches in your bag. You shooed them away, purposely scooting further away from JJ as you did so. You hadn’t been talking to him for the most part. You were afraid. Afraid to ask him about his feelings for you. It was embarrassing. And you couldn’t do it.

JJ noticed your silence. “What’s wrong? You’ve been less talkative than I’m used to you being, princess.” The way the nickname slid so easily off his tongue made your heart stutter in your chest.

Your tongue tied in your mouth. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. Your courage had left you wholeheartedly. Could it be because… you were scared what his reaction would be?

You forced yourself to look at him. His blue eyes, always so bright, reflected your own. The concern that had fallen over his expression gave you the push you needed. “Can… can I ask you a question, JJ?”

“Whatever you need, cupcake.” There. Another nickname. Your breath felt like it had been sucked out of your lungs. You mustered up all you had as your fingers dug into the coarse sand.

“Do you like me?” You blurted out. JJ looked taken aback. He was at a loss for words. Then, slowly, he softened.

“Y/n, I… I have for the longest time. Ever since that day, when we were at that party, and you were in that dress, with the light from the disco ball shining in your hair, I wanted so badly to be with you. Since I first saw you, actually. More than… more than anything.” His voice wavered. There were so many emotions spilling out of him at the same time. You were speechless. His eyes held nothing but genuine love and gentleness towards you.

Your shoulders felt weak. You sat frozen an inch from JJ’s face, feeling like your spirit was drifting away like a bird. As his words sunk in you came to.

“JJ, I— I think I like you too.” There was hesitation in your voice, but you were certain of the meaning in your words. You didn’t know how your relationship with JJ would change, or what would happen, but now you knew you were meant to be with him. Maybe you always were.

JJ’s arms wrapped around you, and you flung yourself into him, letting the feel of his heartbeat take you away. The smell of him, warm and like the sea breeze, comforted you. 

Just then Pope walked up the shore. “Uh, did I miss something?” He asked in confusion at the two of you embracing. Kiara walked up behind him.

“They do this all the time, trust me,” she assured Pope then winked at you. You blushed redder than you had in your life. She knew. Then again, you reasoned as JJ’s hand brushed against yours, you didn’t care too much.

It was like your life had taken a turn and became one of the romance stories you engulfed yourself in. Except it was real. You were Cinderella and JJ Maybank was Prince Charming. Your Prince Charming. Your head was always in the clouds now, dreaming about those sea-blue eyes and the affirmations he had spoken to you that you hardly believed even now. 

This was love? If so, you never wanted to fall out of it.

Your phone rang in the other room, taking your attention from your thoughts. You went into the dining room where it was sitting in the middle of the table. You picked it up and saw it was JJ. Excited, you hit the answer button and held the receiver to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, sunbeam.” JJ’s voice came from the other end. Your heart picked up its speed.

“Hi, Jay.”

“Are you home right now? I was wondering if I could, you know, come over.”

“Yes, I’m home. Why do you want to come over?” You asked shyly.

“I want to see you. Can I come right now?”

“Yeah.” What would the harm be? You wanted to see him too.

“Awesome. Your parents aren’t home, are they?”

“No, not right now. Why?” You questioned.

“Oh, no reason. Just wondering. See ya soon.” There was no way JJ was going to tell you the real reason he wanted to make sure you were alone. Not when he wasn’t even there with you yet.

After you hung up, you went into your bedroom to look in your mirror. Did you look good enough? You smoothed down your hair and adjusted your shirt, which was a pale pink today. You had put on a bit of makeup earlier when you had woken up, and you checked to make sure nothing was smudged. 

When you were satisfied with your appearance, you sat down on a couch in the living room to wait for JJ. Nervously, you played with your thumbs and watched out the window continuously.

When you finally saw JJ coming up the driveway, you stood up and opened the door for him happily. He beamed at you as he entered your living room. “Good to see you, baby.” 

You felt yourself turning pink again. But you beamed back. Then you gasped as he picked you up and swung you into his arms, where you giggled in your bridal-style position. He leaned down and pecked you on the lips. A sigh left your mouth without meaning to. JJ laughed and put you down on the couch.

“So what do you have planned for us?” He asked casually.

You hadn’t thought about that, you realized. “Oh, I don’t know…”

“I’ve got a couple ideas,” he murmured lowly as he pulled you into him suddenly and pressed his lips to yours once more. You leaned back on the couch as euphoric sensations ran up and down your body. Now he was on top of you, kissing you again and again and muttering “I love your lips so much” during short breaths of air.

You had never experienced something like this before. Even a week ago you never would have guessed you would end up here, JJ kissing you feverishly and making you feel like the only girl in the world.

JJ pulled away, making you whine in protest. You found yourself wanting more.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I… I know we just started dating and all that, but I was wondering if… you wanted to try something new?” There was a flicker of apprehension in his gaze and something else that you couldn’t quite read. 

“Something new?” You asked, wide-eyed gaze searching and curious.

JJ scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Have you… had sex with someone before?”

Sex? It was a foreign concept to you. You hadn’t been to many parties, and the only boys you knew well were Pope, John B, and of course JJ. An idea as broad and unknown to you as sex was one you’d never considered. The thought rarely even crossed your innocent mind.

“What?” You were confused.

JJ looked guilty. “Shit, never mind. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I completely understand. It’s just… no, no. I know it’s still early.”

You let yourself mull over his words for a few moments. Then, gradually, you shook your head. “No. It’s just I’ve never tried it before, that’s all. I’m willing to do it with you.” You looked up at him with certainty, pushing away your doubts. You loved him, and you wanted this. More than anything, you told yourself.

“Are you sure?” JJ was taken by surprise.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Alright then,” he said softly, moving closer to you again. He kissed you more slowly this time, peppering your jawline with kisses and drawing out a mewl from you. His hands moved underneath your shirt and stopped before they lifted it up. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked again, his eyes nitpicking for any form of uncertainty.

“I’m sure.” The fabric was lifted over your head, then the clips of your bra were undone as he removed it delicately. You shivered as the cold air hit your exposed breasts.

JJ’s eyes widened as he took in your chest in its full glory. “You— you look like an angel,” he breathed out. He had, without admitting it, pictured in his head many times what you looked like, but he hadn’t expected you to look nearly this good. Restraining himself from tearing the rest of your clothes off you, he gently slid your shorts down your legs and stared in awe and amusement at the wetness that had soaked through your panties.

Your gorgeous eyes were filled with a trust that made his heart ache. So much that it almost him regret what he was about to do to you. Almost was the key word.

You weren’t used to being this bare in front of anyone. You were chilly except for a heat pooling between your legs. You trusted JJ, though, and were sure that he would never do anything to hurt you.

JJ pulled off his t-shirt, showing off his toned and tanned chest, abs and all. Even though you saw it frequently at the beach and pool, drool collected at the corner of your mouth.

Your thighs pressed together, making you wonder why. JJ unbuttoned his shorts next, and when he took off his boxers, the place in between your legs throbbed. You hadn’t seen his cock before, but now you wanted to suck it, lick it, feel it. And it was so big… and it looked like it was hardening, too, as he focused on you.

And hard he was. “Okay, baby, first I have to get myself ready for you.”

“Okay.” You responded instinctively, unable to take your eyes from his erection.

He chuckled and started to fist his cock, up and down and picking up pace. Pre-cum leaked from the tip and landed on the rug. A small moan left his lips and the hotness between your thighs heightened.

Your impatience was growing. You didn’t quite know what you were waiting for, but you needed it, and soon. “J— JJ,” you complained.

“Mmm, doll?” Sweat dripped down JJ’s forehead as he continued to stroke himself.

“I— I need you,” you stammered. You didn’t care if how dirty you sounded anymore. In fact, you think JJ liked it…

“Don’t worry, babe, I got you,” JJ was turned on immensely by your pleading. He finished pumping his dick and moved to join you on the sofa, directly above you.

You stared up at him, desire thick in the air between you. It was in your breath, your soul, your blood.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked in a gentle manner. No matter how much lust was bending him to you right now, he wanted to be sure you were comfortable. You were a virgin, after all. 

“Please,” you whimpered. Immediately you felt JJ’s fingers make contact with your clit. Your mouth dropped open at the feel. He made circles on your sex, stimulating you and gathering the wetness that had been accumulating for several minutes. You moaned out loud, and you slapped your hand over your mouth, ashamed. JJ removed it without pause.

“Don’t you dare, beautiful. I want to hear your sounds.” You obliged, gasping more and more as the pleasure down below built. He slipped his pointer finger inside you, doubling the volume of your cries. He added a second finger and found your particularly sensitive spot that made you squirm. He hit the same spot over and over again. Your hips bucked up involuntarily into his touch. JJ smirked at how your body seemed to react seamlessly to his every move. 

You cried out as the pleasure took over your body, riding over you in waves and racking you with violent shudders. You had never felt pure bliss like this in your life. It was better than any fairytale you had ever read or heard. But it would be nothing compared to JJ’s cock, which he was lining up carefully with your waiting pussy.

His tip pushed lightly into your entrance, and you whined. “It’s okay, baby. You can take me,” he encouraged you. He groaned as he slid further inside you, stretching you out bit by bit. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” The way you were squeezing around him was driving him insane.

Your head fell back onto the pillow as he reached the deepest point inside of you. Your walls clenched and fluttered around him. He sputtered your name while he watched his length disappear almost to his balls.

JJ rolled his hips, keeping a steady rhythm, cautious not to push you too far. The movement made your mind hazy. You could no longer think straight. 

“You doing alright?” JJ asked you in between ragged gasps, his voice deep and husky. Your breathing was faster than if you had been running for miles. “Don’t stop!” you begged in response as you came again, calling him by name.

Your voice was music to JJ’s ears. It was the only thing he wanted to hear, ever. He would fall asleep to it, get drunk on it, get himself off with it every hour of the week.

You bit down on JJ’s shoulder, making him grunt at the sting. He barely noticed the pain however. He was drinking in how your hips snapped in unison with his and your back arched backwards perfectly.

This was your first time sleeping with each other, but already neither of you wanted to cease the harmony you created. JJ pulled out just as cum spurted forward from his cock. It landed on your belly and breasts; some even landed on your face. Closing your eyes you licked it from around your mouth. The liquid you couldn’t reach you reached up and collected on your fingers, then sucked it off. He tasted salty with a hint of creaminess. You decided that it was your new favorite taste.

JJ watched you do this with his eyes blown with newfound obsession and arousal. You were no longer the innocent girl he knew. He found he liked this version of you better. Once you finished lapping up his release, he slammed back into you, no longer being gentle. He thrusted in and out hard, making a different kind of ecstasy. Bolts of lightning traveled through your veins at the speed of light. This was so good. Better, even.

“Sh— shit.” JJ let out a curse. The two of you came again quickly, at the same time. Your face was buried in your pillow and sweat, tears, and cum covered your skin.

JJ, hair messier and stringier than usual, got up off the couch, taking all his strength not to pass out. He found a cloth in your kitchen drawer and ran it under the sink. Coming back into the room, he used it to wipe you off, rolling you over with care and cleaning your thighs and stomach.

Gratefully you batted your eyelashes up at him. He felt adoration blossom in his chest and kissed your forehead. “Feeling ‘aight?”

“So tired. But better than since I was born. Thank you, JJ.” You meant it. Now that you knew what sex with him was like, you were never turning back.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Now since your body isn’t used to this sort of thing, it might be a ‘lil sore in the morning. Mind if I stay the night to make sure you’re all taken care of?” His voice was convincing, and full of affection.

“I don’t mind.” You wouldn’t say no to spending a sweet night with JJ. You were certain your parents wouldn’t mind.

Header: saradika-graphics

Tag list: @idfcaboutaname, @dirtyslag96, @gillybear17, @agnxstic, @scrappybear89, @redhead1180, @k-k0129, @lucifersgirl, @immyowndefender, @eddxemxnson, @siriusly0guys, @outerb4nkss, @lanasturns3, @code-canine, @diffidentphantom

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x TALKACTIVE!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: this is so me.. i talk way too much so i'm lowkey just projecting myself on here. anyways, requests are open but i'm taking my time replying since i've been busy so just keep that in mind!

▸ hyun-ju is a good listener. a great one, even. she's got a big heart and soul, she's someone who is willing to listen to whatever you have to say. and she doesn't just listen, she tries to understand. which is a quality that is hard to find these days.

▸ you noticed it a bit later in your relationship. every time you talk, she listens and isn't afraid to ask questions regarding your situation or interest. she's genuinely invested in what you have to say. "oh, really? tell me more, hon."

▸ even if you just say random things or suggestions related to literally anything, she's all ears! whatever is going on in your head, every single sentence you utter, she's always nodding a long. she's probably wondering how you managed to say three sentences in a second.

▸ you tend to get very extroverted when you get comfortable. you'd ramble about anything for hours and hours, hyun-ju finds this adorable. she's definitely admiring you as you speak, your words always find a way to her heart.

▸ if you were talking about something she has no clue in, she's gonna research about it either online or in books so she could talk about it with you! even if small mistakes slip, her efforts show. and you appreciate that more than ever.

▸ "wait, you watched the movie and read the book?" — "yeah! i thought it would be nice to discuss it with you. you talked about it nonstop last week, so i figured i'd give it a look, and i must admit- you do have amazing taste."

▸ good moods mean you'd go on walks with hyun-ju and visit multiple parks at once. pointing out random birds, trees, and flower types. speaking whatever crossed your mind in specific moments.

▸ "oh look! a daisy. did you know daisies bloom in the spring like every other flower and their last bloom is in autumn? though, that's very common, um. ah! moon flowers, they only bloom one night a year." you'd giggle, "i did not know, but i do now!" hyun-ju smiles.

▸ during movies you can get very quiet. but as the movie ends, you'd ramble quicker than speed itself. "it's okay. at best. i just don't understand why the characters would do such things! i guess it is fictional, but still! does logic not exist in that universe?"

▸ same thing with books, you can read for hours in silence, but as soon as you close the book... "hyun! you must read this! not only is this one of a kind, but once you read it you can not put it down. i love it so much, it made me tear up a bit because of a character, but, um. okay, no spoilers!"

▸ hyun-ju could get really lost in your voice sometimes. you'd be talking about something silly like rocks or something, and she'd still be mesmerized. hyun-ju thinks that your voice could easily soothe her to sleep.

▸ and it's true, your voice makes her feel so safe. during conversations, she gets sudden realizations of how lucky she truly is. to be able to listen to you, in a calm setting, just the two of you.

▸ if you send her voice notes, she'd listen to it on repeat. especially when she's away or vice versa, she loves hearing your voice over and over as it gives ger comfort.

▸ "hey, hyun! i know you're really busy, and i know you only listen to my voice notes when you're done with work, so i ought to tell you about how much i love you. and how much i miss you. don't forget to tell me goodnight, or not the bed bugs might bite me."

▸ she would never think of your ongoing talks as unimportant. if you would suddenly pause and stop talking, she'd notice immediately. but hyun-ju always reassures you that it's perfectly okay.

▸ if you feel tired or off, and you just wanna be quiet for a bit, hyun-ju likes to ramble too, she does it a bit more often ever since she's met you. her voice is sleepy, her head lays near yours, your bed is cold and hyun-ju is the only source of warmth. as she traces your hands, "do you wanna know what happened earlier in the office?" you'd nod, she'd talk and only stop when you've completely fallen asleep.

▸ "and that's the end of it. goodnight, angel." she'd place a kiss on your forehead before falling asleep herself.

[bellyaz]

CW: Humiliation/Degradation

Your weight is out of control, like seriously.

I didn’t wanna say anything cause I know I played a part in it, but this is insane. At first, I didn’t think about it cause everyone gains weight sometimes, yknow? It’s normal. But you’ve blown up so quickly, it’s almost like you’re doing it on purpose.

I can admit that it all started after that treacherous group project- even though you weren’t that small back then, but whatever. I didn’t see the harm in a hotbox followed by some fast food after every session. I thought it would be a nice treat after we put in all that work.

And when the project was over our group saw it right to celebrate. So we went even bigger; edibles at the buffet. Again, I can admit that we all ate more than we could usually handle, but you? You made a spectacle of yourself. You carried two packed plates each time you got up and it sounded like you were out of breath each time you had to get up. I don’t know if you realized, but when we were leaving your shirt rode up and everybody could see your belly and the top of your ass crack. Oh, and your shirt was clinging to your belly. You even said you looked pregnant, then you started rubbing your gut like you were. We thought it was funny and a couple other people even joined in. But I digress.

Even after the project when we really became friends, we would do the same thing. Get high and eat, get drunk and eat, get cross faded and eat. I noticed you pudging up, but I thought you would bounce back like I do. But you didn’t, and I think it might be too late for that anyway.

You know what else I noticed? You have like, no more stamina. Everybody has to climb the same flight of stairs to get to my room, but you be huffing and puffing when you get here and it lasts for at least five minutes. And it’s getting worst. Like fuck, I’m only on the second floor.

I mean, we can’t even go out anymore cause when you’re always complaining about how all of your clothes are too tight. I mean they are, sometimes when you’re reaching for stuff your belly peeks out… and your shorts ride up a lot. But it’s so obvious why they don’t fit. So we end up staying in, getting faded, and ordering a bunch of food.

And I’m sorry, but going to the mall with you is so draining. I love the shopping and stuff but you start complaining about how you’re “starving” after one store and I end up in the food court waiting for you to go to two or three different restaurants. And THEN I have to sit and wait for half an hour while you shove everything down your gullet while people stare. Aren’t you embarrassed by that?

Ugh, and when we go grocery shopping? The junk you put in your cart is something to be ashamed of. I know Little Debbie HATES to see you coming. I mean, pints of the fattiest ice creams, chips, snack cakes, 2 liter sodas, chocolates, candies… Your cart is always packed but there’s never a vegetable in sight. Isn’t that concerning?

And it’s showing in your body. You have stretch marks all over your belly and love handles, your arms are puckering, you have a double chin now, and your thighs have cellulite all over them. Fuck, you jiggle with every step you take. And again, you’re out of breath all the time. When you come by me, when you get up to go to the bathroom, when you eat... I can literally hear you breathing hard right now, and you’re just sitting there.

Is this your fetish or something? No judgement. I mean, why else would you be doing this to yourself? You stuff your face then “joke” about how fat you feel, like you want me to validate your gluttony or something. You always wear these skimpy little clothes when you come over like you want me to ogle at your growing body, and you eat until you can’t move every time we stay in. And even when we would go out, you swore you couldn’t leave until you ate, which duh, you don’t wanna be out for hours with an empty stomach. So on top of being bloated from the pregame, you packed your gut with some greasy bullshit from the closest fast food place instead of something that would actually keep you full. Cause you would bitch about being hungry like hour into the functions.

So be honest. Does it get you wet? When you overeat and you’re moaning about how fast you made yourself do you soak through your panties? Are you gonna cum in your itty bitty shorts if I touch your fat ass stretched out gut? Hm? What if I pulled your shirt up and made you jump? Actually… I saw you bite your lip a little earlier. Oh my gosh, you got off to this whole conversation, didn’t you?

[hotchnerwrites]

Hiiii 🤍 I'm the anon who requested Obsessed Hotch i wanted to tell you that you did an amazing job i really loved what you wrote, thanks for taking the request 🥹🥹🫂

I thought of something new if you don't mind🥹

It could be something about Hotch and the reader where they're sitting across from each other, maybe in a restaurant or something and he says something like 'don't you think you're too far away from me?🤨?' Or maybe the reader lifts his foot a little under the table to stretch it out and Hotch feels the movement so he pulls it a little to indicate that he should come closer. 🥹

In the end they end up sitting next to each other and he is so proud that he got what he wanted. 🙂‍↕️

I know i mentioned a restaurant but it can also be while they eat at home or even at work whatever is best for you.🫶🏻

I hope you had an amazing holiday and have the most amazing year ever! 🫂💌💌

I send you my love and a hug 🙂‍↕️

pls just consider it only if you like the idea if you can't ignore it!🫂

One Inch Closer

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: SFW, first date, new relationship, fluff, flirting, nervousness, hand-holding, Aaron is touchy

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. This is the kind of stuff that keeps me motivated!!! I'm so glad to see you in my requests again, it's always such a pleasure to write for you. I'd been hoping you'd request again <3 I'm sorry for the wait; I was travelling, and I had no access to my laptop. But it's done finally! I hope you like it, please enjoy reading it!!! Sending you my love. Oh, btw! I wrote two parts for this 👀 😁 I legit couldn't choose between either suggestion. Keep an eye out for a part two hehe 💨💨

Dividers by @/enchanthings-a My requests are open! Send me stuff :)

You hadn’t thought buying an ice cream at your local park would’ve landed you in this spot a couple weeks later.

It had been on a whim. You hadn’t seen one of those ice cream trucks since you were seven, and it had been a hot day. So, you’d decided to treat yourself to something sweet. You definitely deserved it after the week you’d had. After fending off some very hyperactive children, you managed to acquire your soft serve. And that’s where you met him— Aaron Hotchner. He had been hard to miss, a towering wall of muscle standing in line behind you. 

You don’t know how it happened, how a simple gesture of sharing a bench with him as you licked your cone had turned into a surprisingly entertaining conversation. Maybe it was when you started laughing at his dry jokes. Maybe it was when he told you about the time he accidentally wore mismatched shoes to a meeting and didn’t notice until someone pointed it out an hour later. 

You couldn’t hide your delight as he shrugged and said, “At least they were both black.” 

But somewhere between the ice cream and the short stroll through the park after, you’d found yourself falling for him. So you didn’t think twice about accepting his request for dinner together. Now, here you were, sitting across from Aaron’s handsome features at a candlelit table in a fancy restaurant.

And you were nervous. 

No, this was way more— you could almost hear your heart hammering. You cast a glance at Aaron across your booth, wondering if he could feel your nerves radiating across the table. But he seemed entirely at peace, his demeanour calm as he perused the menu. If anything, it just made the difference between the two of you feel even more glaring. Aaron was effortlessly composed. Meanwhile, you were fidgeting with the tablecloth, the restaurant feeling like a furnace suddenly. You could only pray that something would distract you from these incessant first-date nerves. 

“What would you like to eat tonight? The roast chicken is the only thing I can pronounce on here, I might just get that,” he laughs quietly, eyes twinkling in the soft light of the candle.

You blinked. Your mouth opened in response, but your brain had apparently taken a walk. An awkward silence ensued, but pandemonium broke loose within you.

Oh my god. You couldn’t believe you’d just frozen up like that. Not after how easy conversation had flowed with him in the park. What if he thought you were bizarre? You probably looked like an idiot right now. Please, don’t let this be the reason you never hear from him again.

“Are you all right?” Aaron’s deep timbre cut through the chaos of your mind. His brown eyes were studying you from across the table. You had feared judgment, but there was nothing but concern behind the intensity of his gaze. 

“Yeah... I’m fine. Sorry, uh, I’m just…” you chuckled nervously, “First date jitters, I think.”

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t bite, sweetheart,” he teased, his voice soothing the tension in your stomach.

You laughed, enchanted by how easily he had managed to put a stop to your spiralling.

The waiter dropped off your drinks, and for a moment, there was nothing but the soft clink of glasses, the rustling of the napkins, and the quiet hum of conversations filling the space. Then, Aaron shifted in his seat, his focus narrowing on you. His brow furrowed slightly—something unreadable flashing through his gaze.

He seemed a bit… off. 

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. 

Was the conversation too dry? Or maybe the food was taking too long?

A breath of hesitation caught in your chest as your eyes met his. You could acutely feel the weight of his gaze, soft yet all-consuming, as if he was dissecting every little thought, every little gesture.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, voice tentative.

"No," Aaron said quickly, though there was a tension in his posture, something that was just a little too intense for the moment. He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving you. “But don’t you think you’re a little... too far away?”

You blinked at him, unsure what he meant at first, but then his eyes softened with a hint of something—was he flirting?

He was still watching you, eyes never wavering. There was something in the air now, something you couldn’t quite define, but you felt it rush through your veins, making your heart skip.

A nervous giggle slipped from your lips before you could stop it. You felt a flush creeping up your neck, and you quickly masked it with a smile. “Is that so?”

There was something effortlessly intimate about the way he said it, how he made it feel like it was your choice, your move. Without thinking, you got up and slid next to him in the booth. 

"Better?" you asked softly, your voice not quite as steady as you wanted it to be.

Aaron’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, “Much.” 

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, before his hand, ever so casually, reached out to cover yours. The heat of his palm felt comforting against your skin and steadied your pulsing heart.

The waiter came back with your food, but neither of you really paid attention to the plates being set down in front of you.

"Thanks for coming tonight," he said, his voice suddenly softer, almost vulnerable. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes when I asked, but I’m really glad you did.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering again. “Aaron, I wouldn’t miss this for all the world.”

And in the quiet that followed, you both knew it wasn’t just a dinner anymore. It was the start of something new, something that neither of you had fully anticipated—but were both quietly excited to explore.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

part 2 (coming soon!)

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter nine

chapter nine

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: things take a turn for the worse.

Please read the warnings as some new important ones have been added. NOTE: this is the last time that the SA tag will be used in this story. However, the events of this chapter are important. If you decide to skip this chapter, feel free to message me and I’ll fill you in. Or message if you want specifics about the tags to decide if you want to read it.

chapter warnings: non-con, dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), body horror, viewer discretion is advised, sexual assault (NOT by joel, NOT described, just implied and alluded to), p in v, torture

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You were wrong about Mike. About his lack of retaliation.

You were so, so wrong. 

That much is clear when you wake up.

The first sign that things aren’t quite right is that you never did get around to going to sleep last night. 

The second is that you may be buried, or something. You can’t quite move your limbs beyond wiggling your fingers and toes. And you can’t see shit. 

The third sign is that you can’t smell Joel. Not beyond what’s soaked into your skin and sweater. No, he’s very much not here. Or anywhere nearby, if the rapidly tightening feeling in your chest is any indication. 

It’s panic you can’t shake off, you know, since you can’t fucking move. 

The fluorescent overhead buzzes to life. 

“Not so brave now, are you?” The voice blows in from across the room and sinks in your gut like it’s sleeping with the fishes. 

You really, truly are in some deep shit. 

You’ve been kidnapped from your kidnappers. Honestly, what did you do in a past life to deserve this? 

He’s right about one thing. The confidence you clung to in the early days has been picked at like carrion. You’re scared. 

“I didn’t–I’m–” but something is wrong, so very, very wrong. You’re bubbling out gibberish and spit. It’s just sounds, dribbling from sloppy lips. 

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up. It ain’t gonna wear off for a while, so best just sit quietly like a good bitch.”

You’re not sure if it's the panic or whatever he’s drugged you with, but your throat is cinched, and your cheeks sting from the uncontrollable stream of tears. 

“Let’s see what’s so fuckin’ special about you. Why your cunt is worth more than my brother’s life,” he spits, unfortunately literally, as droplets spray. 

Shit. They were actual brothers. Not that it mattered; what was done was done, but you had really miscalculated this. 

His hand is on your shoulder. It’s better than where you thought he was reaching, and yet, still horrible. It’s not like you haven’t had to deal with handsy or aggressive men. It’s just… usually, you can move. Fight. Run. 

His hand is nothing like Joel’s. His fingers are short, his nails broken and edged with grime. There are scars and dry skin, like Joel, but it’s nothing like his rough grip. There’s no nick above the webbing of his thumb, no calluses on the plump pads of his fingers to remind you that you’re alive. 

Mike brushes his thumb over Joel’s bite, the thin newborn skin taut and jagged. You make a sound. You don’t hear it, not with the way your heart is beating in your eardrums, not the way every note scrapes your throat, but you grate out a sound that might have been a hiss. 

Or a growl.

His hand connects with your cheek, which does not help the dizziness stuffed between your ears.

 

You’re not even mad, because it makes you dizzy enough that you don’t really register what comes after. Maybe you would have been worried about that, but he hit you hard enough that you didn’t even remember how hard you’d been hit. 

He must know he’s on a dwindling timetable. Inevitably, by dawn, the others will return to the base with Joel in tow. Inevitably, by dawn, they’ll know. 

As if he can tell you’ve dug up a fragment of hope, he leers, taking a swig from a bottle of dirty brown liquor. “You think Jim’s gonna waste resources on finding you?” he murmurs, grimy fingers stroking your cheek. 

And just like that, with a sharp breath, you lose that hope. Because he’s right, he’s undeniably right. Jim never misses a chance to bitch about the drain you are. They don’t need you, not really. Neither does Joel, not really. 

It’s easy, after the hours that have passed, to give in to the overwhelming dread. His hand wanders as it settles in, and you twitch away from his touch.

“Guess it’s wearin’ off,” Mike muses, taking another drink. “Can’t have you puttin’ up a fight now.” His bottle clinks against the file cabinet he sets it upon as he squats to dig through a duffel bag. 

There’s nothing you can do when he ties you down. There’s nothing you can do as he grips your cheeks hard, his thumb digging into your jaw until your mouth opens. You try not to swallow the liquor he pours in, only to aspirate it instead, wheezing and sputtering to little effect. 

“Jesus. Can’t even handle a little booze,” he sneers. “Too bad. Can’t have you gettin’ too feisty, huh?” He forces more down your throat, and it burns. 

He keeps squeezing your face, peering down at your mouth. “Reckon I should teach you a lesson about biting,” he said, tapping the bottle lightly against your front teeth. A whimper of fear slips free, and he grins crookedly. 

“Yeah, you don’t like that, huh? My brother didn’t much like gettin’ bit, either.” 

He steps away to rifle back through the duffle, and when he comes back, it’s with a pair of rusted pliers. 

You can feel your body twitch, trying its very hardest. The lingering drugs and booze make your head spin and throb. Mike faded in and out of view, but made his presence very clear as he pried your jaw back open. 

He tapped each tooth with the pliers, hemming and hawing about where to start. Garbled sounds are all the protest you can muster, trying to shake your head loose of his grasp as he selects an incisor. 

The first two attempts fail, the pliers slipping free, battering you in the process. The third try, though, clamps on just right. He clumsily tugs, to no avail, before wiggling and twisting the tooth. Reluctantly, your body parts ways with it as he increases the force, plucking the loosened tooth from the gum. 

You can’t even really hear your own screams. There’s pain, there’s blood, there’s Mike’s sick laughter. And then there’s darkness.

—

It’s not the fight that wakes you. Not the gunshots, not the snarling. Everything has died down by the time you come around.

Well, not everything. Based on the sounds, you’d hazard a guess that Mike is still at least a little alive. When you look up, you’re thrilled to find out you can, that the paralysis has waned. 

Then, of course, you wish you hadn’t looked at all. Once you have, though, you can’t look away. You understand that Tool song now, the one from the CD your dad burned you before the world went to hell. 

For a moment, Joel meets your eyes, and you are the wolf, nearly. You can feel the way it burns through your veins. 

Satisfied that you aren’t afraid, that you’re okay for a moment, he finishes his feast. 

There’s not much left of Mike when he tosses his corpse into a corner. It smacks against the far wall and drops to the ground. His final resting place. 

The Wolf that is Joel, that is your alpha, that is your savior, stands on his hind legs with those unsettling inverse ankle-knee-freaky bits bent. But even crouching, he fills the room. He’s a blur, like the first time you saw him, an ink blot in the center of your vision. A wormhole absorbing all the light. What little is left reflects off his shiny body. It takes you a moment to realize his fur (or his body hair, as he insists) is soaked in blood. 

It clings to the plaque on his teeth. His hands are steeped in it, some already hardening or coagulating under the stretch of his claws. He stalks over to you, and you do not flinch from him. His claws rend the rope as if it were no more than spaghetti. You tremble uncontrollably as he helps you sit up, most of your faculties back under your control. His blood-soaked, massive paws cradle your cheeks, pulling back abruptly when you whimper. 

A growl rumbles from his chest, and he throws his head back and howls. It brings footsteps in your direction as he gathers you into his arms. You’ve never felt smaller than you do now, and it’s not just the bulk and heft of his body. He cradles you with a delicacy unbefitting his sharp, deadly nature, but it’s all the more Joel to you than the brutality you witnessed. 

The raiders filter in, just a few of them, more to control him than assist, but they reclaim Mike’s stolen supplies and pay you no mind. At least until Cheryl comes in. 

“Alive after all, huh?” she says, approaching far closer than you think she should dare. But she wiggles the remote to the shock collar as she nears, peering at you. “Still want her, pet?” she asks Joel. “She’s all used up.”

He bares his teeth and snarls, and she shrugs. “It was just an option,” she says, hand dropping from the pistol on her belt. 

You feel sick from the second brush with death in as many hours. Or maybe it’s from the bootleg booze and blood that’s been dripping down your throat. 

He looks down at you, long tongue poking out to lap at your cheek before he realizes the injury is inside. He whines, and you shake your head, weaving your fingers in his fur and burying your face there. He doesn’t need words; neither of you do. He just takes you home. 

No. Not home. You can’t let yourself accept that. But it’s been almost a year, now. Almost a year since they plucked you from that FEDRA truck and brought you to hell. 

It’s not the cell that’s home, though. It’s him. 

—

You look up at the wolf once you’re locked in, the relief of your familiar prison bubbling up like bile. The others go back to their day, the incident no more than a blip of inconvenience. Silence lingers, both of you waiting, waiting, waiting to hear the heavy thunk of the cellar’s deadbolt. 

As soon as it sounds, you break.

“You found me,” you gasp, trailing into a whimper. “You found me, you found me.” Your voice is grating, leaking from your cracked and dry throat. It hurts to talk, your jaw throbs, and you struggle around the swelling, but you can’t stem the leak.

He grips your biceps with both paws, and rolls back the shift enough to speak. “I found you,” he says firmly, letting you feel his sturdy hold on you, keeping you there and present. “I’ve got you. Okay?”

You don’t respond, still shaking and swaying a little on the spot. “You found me,” you echo, raw and dredged up from the hollow of your lungs. 

“Hey,” he growls without aggression. “ Listen to me. ” He doesn’t mean to do it. His voice drops a register, an even lower rumble than usual, and your attention snaps up to him. 

He winces. There’ll be time to apologize later, though. “I’ve got you,” he repeats steadily. “Okay?”

You nod. “Okay,” you echo in a whisper. 

“I will always find you,” he promises, eyes gone dark. “Always, little omega. You’re mine, and there’s nowhere on this godforsaken earth that they can hide you from me.” 

In any other context, it would frighten you. It should, by all means, frighten you a little. Instead, you kiss him.

It’s a mistake that sends you pulling back, gasping in pain, and all the ferocity on his face falls.

“Let me see,” he coaxes gently, cradling your jaw. He’s careful as he presses your lip to the side to get a good look. “ Jesus, ” he whispers.

You can see the guilt building up, layers upon layers from all his life. You won’t let this, won’t let you be another. “Joel—”

But he’s not having it. He bristles and narrows his eyes at you. “Would you stop tryin’ to run your mouth? You’re making it bleed.” His eyes dart over your face, stopping back on your missing tooth each time before sighing, shoulders slumping. 

“C’mon,” he grumbles, leaving no room for argument by simply picking you up and carrying you over to the bed. He settles with you straddling his lap, wincing. He looks down for only a moment. “I’ll take care of that next. Sit still ‘n be good.” 

It turns out not to be a hard order to follow. He sets about to lick your wounds, starting with your mouth. He doesn’t mean for it to turn into anything, he really doesn’t, but he’s licking inside your mouth. As his spit mixes with yours, as he laves his tongue oh-so-gently over and over, the familiar tingling starts to set in. It numbs the pain, not entirely, but the relief is enough to make you sigh softly against his mouth.

He can’t entirely be blamed as it turns into lazy kisses, tongues brushing comfort over one another, each press of lips like a mantra. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. You’re not sure who’s reassuring who. 

It’s not going to fix it. There’s not a magical makeout session that can restore your tooth or even heal the socket. Not that quickly, anyway. But it eases the pain, and so does the way his warm hands hold you like you’re something precious. The way he groans into the kiss, the way he can’t stop reaching for every bit of you, checking meticulously to make sure nothing else was taken from you. 

He makes good on his promise to soothe your other wounds. He can’t quite numb your aching mind or racing heart, can’t slide his tongue over the places that shattered inside, but he can damn well remove every trace of Mike from your body.

He settles you down on the mattress, settles himself into the wolf, and he licks every inch of you. His long, hot tongue is just rough enough to make you feel clean. There’s no way even a cell of Mike’s skin is left behind on yours. Joel eats it all up like he did the man himself. It leaves your whole body tingling, your heart pounding in your ears, your cunt gushing by the time he sheaths himself in you. 

There’s no room left for anyone else. There’s no room for anything but you and Joel in the darkness. 

It’s too late before either of you realize he’s triggered his own rut. Your body responds beautifully, burning under his touch, following your alpha into blissful oblivion. He fusses relentlessly, worried despite his own distress and desire, not wanting you to feel trapped or forced. Not again. Never again. 

It’s a promise neither of you are sure he can keep, but both know he’ll die trying. 

It isn’t as long as your first heat, but it’s all the more intense. Your little room fills with sweat, pants and groans replacing any need for words. And it’s exactly what you need—no thoughts, no memories, no dealing with what you’ve suffered. Just Joel, just… love? No, that can’t be right. Just lust. 

His cock is insistent, pressing into you, filling the gaps he’d left behind. He doesn’t bother turning back to the man, doesn’t bother trying to pretend he’s anything but a mindless creature right now. And still, he’s so gentle. More gentle than he’s ever been. 

You didn’t have time to build a nest, but that’s okay. He doesn’t ever move from his place over your body, cocooning you, blocking everything else from sight. There’s just Joel. You’re warm and cozy and safe. 

You almost forget that you’re locked up at all. He keeps you on such a high with his deft fingers, mouth, and cock that you can’t even fathom a time when he might have to part from you. The lock of your cunt around his knot is your echo of his promise. Never again. 

—

“How much of this is even real?” you whisper in the fading light of your heat. Your hand is lazily raised, blocking out the fluorescents, but he catches it with his own, his thick fingers making room for themselves between yours. Locking you together in another way, keeping you close. 

“Couldn’t tell ya,” he says quietly, gruff voice even coarser in the way he holds back, keeping it soft in your ear. “Probably nothin’. But it’s there anyway.”

He was sure as shit right about that. This burning in your chest, the way your heart picked up as he wove your fingers together and tugged your hands down, using both your arms to hold you to his chest, your unified fist in the center. It’s not real, not really. You don’t know him. He doesn’t know you. There’s nothing for this heavy feeling to rest upon, no foundation for the feelings that should not be there. 

And yet.

The conversation is veering uncomfortably personal, of which you only have yourself to blame, but you run from it anyway. “You ever see Dawn of the Wolf? ” you ask, pushing for something unserious, something that’ll have him rolling his eyes and putting up a fuss about the W Word. 

That’s not what happens, though.

His breath catches for a second before rolling out in a soft sigh, his warm breath ruffling the hairs at the nape of your neck. “Yeah,” he admits. “My—” and there’s something potent in his pause. Something that saps the silliness of your subject change away and dances dangerously close to serious. 

“My daughter loved that shit,” he says. 

You can’t help the way your body stiffens. You want to roll over and look at him, to parse his pursed lips and warm eyes. He doesn’t let you, though, tightening his grip around your waist, fingers pressing a little more insistently in the divots between your knuckles until you settle. 

“Watched the damn movies, read the damn books, had the damn poster on her wall,” he says, something careful in his words. Like he’s trying to give this to you without giving anything up for himself. These memories he’s clutched in the recesses of his ventricles—they can’t be extracted without damaging the last soft tissue he could spare to wrap them in. 

“So, who’s team were you on?” you tease instead. 

“I didn’t give a shit,” he dismisses. A beat passes. “Why would she even have considered the wimpy blond vampire kid?”

“Oh, I see,” you say, nodding sagely. “You think the obvious choice was the tall, hairy, brooding wolf-man. I have to agree.”

“Shut up,” he grouses immediately. “It was all stupid, anyway. None of ‘em could stop whining.” 

You go to turn over again, but this time, he lets you, both of his arms cradling you in a way that makes your throat feel tacky and tight. It’s made worse by the way his eyes are bright, the flecks of green bursting through the brown like lichen in soil. 

“Never did get to see the sequel,” you say after a moment, trying to regain some sense in your brain.

He snorts. “Didn’t miss anything. I thought it couldn’t be worse than the first one but it was the stupidest two hours of my life.” 

“I can’t believe you saw Dawn of the Wolf 2, and I didn’t,” you say. A beat passes. “Will you tell me about her?” you ask, barely a whisper, afraid to break whatever is happening. 

“Not… not today,” he grants, and you take it for the huge step that it is, and nod, burying your face in his chest instead and taking a deep breath of his soothing scent. The oaky notes are easier to parse, now, much more complex. Hints of spices are there, sometimes. 

You’re getting too familiar. So much so that when the chamomile blossom of his grief leaks through, your grip on him tightens just a little, and you find yourself pressing a kiss to the thick thatch of hair beneath your cheek. 

It isn’t real, but how can it not be? How can something this intense not be real? No, it’s different. This isn’t real versus fake like something photoshopped, something on a green screen. 

This is more than that. The dotted lines that make up constellations aren’t real, but it doesn’t change the way those stars are bound together to make something unique, something breathtaking.

“I get it now,” he murmurs, breaking your existential reverie. 

“Get what?” you say, nose wrinkling.

He bumps his nose against yours, nudging at you in a way you know would involve a playful nip if he was his other self. “Why he didn’t just eat her,” he says.

You reward him with a bark of a laugh. “You’re still thinking about Dawn?” 

This time he does nip at you, catching your ear gently with very human teeth. “S’your fault,” he grumbles, and you feel it rumble through his chest. 

And yours. 

No, wait, that was your stomach. You’re suddenly starving, and with that revelation comes another, much worse one. You sit up so quickly that Joel follows suit, eyebrows raised. 

“What’s the matter?” He barks. 

“It’s the food,” you whisper. “That’s why they don’t let you share. That’s how Mike got me. It’s in the fucking food.”

He sits up, cupping your jaw. “Explain,” he growls.

“I think they’re drugging us,” you finally tell him. It’s been a haunting tug in the back of your brain, one you didn’t really want to admit to. There’s been a matching tug in your gut, the feeling of something not sitting quite right, but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

It had been twenty years since you had something like cough syrup, anyway. But that’s the feeling. The fuzzy spot between your eyes where the ground seems to swoop up, the way you move through the day underwater. 

“Fuck,” Joel whispers. But he can’t deny it makes sense. It makes too much goddamn sense. He’s been too fucking compliant, too fucked to care. He thought it was apathy borne of everything he’s been through. 

But goddamnit. He knows. He just knows you’re right.

[fuk3d]

A Moment In Time

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff (?)

Warning: Murder, Descriptions of blood, Major character death.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Hey everyone. I really appreciate the support you guys gave on my last post, it was really overwhelming for me even though it might not seem a lot to most lol.

Chapter 1: Happy Birthday | Chapter 2: Distant Memories

Blood. 

Its smell is tang and metallic. Its colour is dangerous, fervent with connections of power, hatred, anger, and… death. 

Blood.

A fickle thing it is. In the way it stains, no matter the material. It stays, even when you try to get rid of it. But you already knew that didn’t you, [Name]?

“[Name] you must stay quiet, no matter what you hear and what you see, stay right here, please baby. Mama loves you” Your mother would say to you, the last thing she would ever say to you actually as she shoves you into the closet, shutting it with a harsh push before hurriedly walking away. Away from you. 

‘Don’t leave me’ you thought. 

Your small form had curled into itself in the dainty closet, small tremors compelling your whole body to quiver and shake. You were just a child back then, hiding away from the sounds of glass shattering, minute fragments of it scattering onto the hard-wood floors. Furniture could be heard crashing against the walls, multiple gruff voices penetrating through the sanctuary your mother had called your ‘safe space’. The sounds of her broken voice breaks through the closet barriers whilst she fights viciously, for the both of you. Still, all you could think about in that very moment was- 

When is mama coming back? How long has it been? Are they still here? Are they gonna hurt me too? Like how they’re hurting mama?

Your body couldn’t handle the stress, streams of whimpers and curt gasps escaping from your lips. You didn’t even know you were beginning to hyperventilate, your eyes blurred by the oval tears that had begun to collect. You couldn’t stop feeling, couldn’t stop hearing the sounds of struggling. You can’t breathe, can’t see, you can’t even hear what’s going outside beyond the closet. All you knew in that split second was that you needed to get out, smell the clean air before you went insane. 

And peculiar, how fate works in its twisted ways; it's almost like it could hear you, begging for a somewhat momentary release. The noise had died down, and everything had suddenly just come to a…. Stop.

Silence.  

No more were the sounds of screaming, yelling, and crying. Now, it was just you. 

You remember that night so clearly, every detail drilled through your head in a never-ending loop. 

And so, with much hesitation, you step out of the closet. Eye’s locked onto the horrific sight that had been laid in front of you. There lies your mother in a pool of her own blood, her eyes, like polished globes appeared lifeless, dead. You take a step, and then another one, then another, until you're standing in front of her. 

“Mama?” Your lips wobbled, legs buckling under the realisation that she was dead. You drop to your knees with a hard ‘thud!’, pain coursing through your little knees. Red starts to stain your clothing as the colour envelopes your tiny hands. Fluorescent red and blue gleam through the apartment. 

“Mama! Mama, wake up! The police are here, can you hear them? They’re coming to save you so you can stop pretending!!” You yell at her, attempting to pull at your mothers hand. Only to reel back from shock at how cold she felt. “Mama, why’re you so cold?” You put your soft hands on her own, feeling tears before it even registers in your mind that you’re crying. The transparent liquid sliding down your puffy cheeks, dripping at your chin before trickling onto the floorboards.   

The noises of your grieving reverberate off the worn down walls, the shuffling of heavy footsteps can be heard but you ignore it, too engrossed in your own mourning. When the police arrive at the designated area that you were in, they’re stunned by the sight. In the middle of all the broken glass and shattered furniture, was you and your mother.

You’re hastily carried away from her, a sick and uneasy feeling growing within your stomach when you see people gather her body and shove her into a body bag. 

What happens next is hazy. You fuzzily recall arriving at the police station and taken in immediately for questioning. They had asked if you knew who your dad was, to which you shook your head ‘no’, shaken by the awful tragedy that took place tonight. You think back to the two officers chatting to each other, just outside the room you were situated in. “Said they don’t know who their father is, poor thing. Must’ve been hard not having a dad.” A resounding slap could be heard as the officer scolds his friend with a coarse tone, “Keep your voice down will ya? You dickbag, they can hear us.” You remember their voices becoming distant, soft mutters of  ‘Alright! Alright!’  became nothing but background noise. 

After that, the police got you cleaned up before taking you down to a hospital lab, the people there extracting a sample of your DNA and swiftly sending it off for a paternity test. While they tossed you into an orphanage for a temporary stay. That's the system for you.  

It had been 6 weeks after that night, and during your abode at the orphanage, you had become entirely numb, both physically and mentally. You didn’t even attempt to make friends, too wrapped up within your own head about that night, about what went down. You completely shut down and refrained from opening up until one of the caregivers gave you a letter addressed to you. A black wax seal with a big, fancy W was engraved into. Curiosity akin to a cat, you unfurled the envelope, eyes lighting up with excitement when you realise that your father was Bruce Wayne. After all the traumatic shit you had gone through, you deserved to distract yourself from all the bad memories that had been plaguing you. 

Three days. 

 In three days, your dad (a word so foreign to you) will be taking you to your new home, where you’re safe, where you can sleep without any fear. 

Three days. 

Time seemed to feel prolonged, and it made you tense. You were so conscious of how skittish you had become over the course of three days. You just couldn’t sleep properly, couldn’t sit still at the thought of finally meeting Bruce Wayne, the man who was your father.

So, when the three day wait was up, you were dressed in your best attire (with what little clothes you own) and hurriedly made your way to the front of the orphanage, your cute suitcase in hand as a monochromatic  vehicle pulled up. You were basically jumping out of your shoes when you heard the car door open, only to realise that it wasn’t a man who looked to be your father. Actually, it was an elderly gentleman dressed in butler attire, with balding grey hair and a pale complexion. Huh, how disappointing.

You couldn’t help but frown, struggling to mask the disdain as he stepped towards you with an air of confidence. “You must be the child Bruce was talking about.” Huh? Why did he say it like that? Where was your dad? “My name is Alfred, I am your family butler.” 

Your lips stretched down into an impossibly deeper frown. “Okay… but, where’s my dad?” You questioned, awaiting his answer as Alfred cleared his throat. “Your father is… busy as of right now. He’s attending to matters regarding work. I hope you forgive him for his improper timing Young [Name].” Alfred dips his head, mimicking something similar to a bow while you poorly nodded at your family butler– Alfred. You stay silent as you step inside the car, Alfred shuts the door while he gets into the driver seat, the car's engine roaring thunderously as it shakes the vehicle. 

You look out the window, eyes reflecting off the glass whilst the people and buildings blend in together. Gotham was such a dull place, monochrome colours mixing into each other. It was the only region that was able to turn its own people into vile, foul, and disgusting human beings disguised in sheep's clothing. It was the only region that could turn its people into villains and monsters. And it certainly had a habit of making the people with the most potential suffer a fate worse than death. Just like you. 

Why didn’t my dad pick me up instead? What was so important that he couldn’t even meet me himself? What’s going to happen to m-

No. You shouldn’t think like that, you wouldn’t think like that. You’re sure it was just an accident, a slip up, a one time thing right? It doesn’t matter, as long as he’s your dad and as long as he cares right?

‘Right’ you affirm to yourself. Your confidence comes back, you're excited once again. 

If I can’t meet him at the orphanage, I can just meet him at my new home, right?

You really couldn’t wait. You couldn’t wait to meet your new family and you couldn’t wait to see your new home. 

“We’ve arrived Young [Name].”

@strwberryglass

End Note: Okay so I was contemplating if I should continue this further because I didn't want to start a piece of writing just to lose the motivation or interest. I want to do this for myself and not for the sake of writing for others (no offence). Anyway, thank you for reading!

Also, updates are going to be pretty slow since I'm starting school next week! So please hold on until then :)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

You’re like the best writer of smut here ☺️☺️☺️

Please I’m begging 90s James (can be any era) taking reader’s virginity? But he didn’t know she’s innocent and she thinks after all the groupies he fucked he’d be disappointed in her? But he’s actually super turned on, cause no one touched her and now he gets to ruin her??? So I guess corruption kink, purity kink, dirty talk, size kink (he’s big, we all know that)???

A/n: I've had this conversation with a friend a few times, my idea is that -going off of the picture of James on the record, we all know the one- he's roughly 5-7 inches (8 being a generous amount) because he's holding himself in his hand and there's still some poking out, plus he looks flaccid SO by my calculations I've come up with said lengths, let me know if you want to hear more of my thoughts on sixty year old mens dicks🫠

Warnings: Smut, size kink, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), idk about corruption and purity kinks but I tried lol, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You straddled his lap, arms around his neck with your fingers laced in his hair. James's arms were around you, holding you close while he attacked your lips with your own, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You'd been dating for two months, getting closer to three, and you still hadn't told him he would be your first. You'd gone on a few dates, some highschool romances but those didn't mean anything really.

You were quiet and kept to yourself, you didn't go out, you didn't get dates, how you managed to get him was beyond you but here you were, in his bed, in his lap, in his arms with his hard on pressed firmly against your ass.

Honestly, you didn't think you'd make it this far with him. James was a rocker, the lead singer of a big band, he'd been with so many women it was hard to believe that he went cold turkey just because he met you.

"Sweetheart," he spoke, getting your attention, "what's wrong?" He asked, bringing a hand up to your face and thumbing your cheek in a soothing motion.

"What's wrong..?" You repeated softly, letting him move your face further away so he could look at you. "Nothing's wrong, why?"

"You were thinking about something." He said with a warm smile. "You stopped kissing me."

You gave a small nod, understanding why he was stopping now. "Right, sorry." You leaned closer to kiss him again but you only got a quick peck before he pushed you away again.

"What were you thinking about, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes flicking down to your red lips.

"Nothing." You assured.

James rolled his eyes. "It's not nothing, tell me." He said sternly, looking you in the eye. You chewed your cheek, he knew just what eyes to give to make your knees weak.

"I'm sorry." You finally said. "I know you're used to a lot of women, you're used to groupies, and I'm not them and I don't think it'll be good enough but I want to try, I just literally don't know how..?" You explained.

James blinked at you, expression blank. "Sweetheart, I mean this politely, what the fuck do you mean?" He couldn't hold back a small chuckle. "Are-are you saying you're scared you're not good enough at sex for me?"

Your mouth opened before the words came out. "Well, yeah but that's not exactly what I meant." You mumbled. "I mean... I-I might be lacking in the, um, sex...ual... intimacy? With, you know... others?"

James inhaled deeply, he gave a nod and rested his forehead on your shoulder. "Sweetheart, are you trying -and failing miserably, might I add- that you're a virgin?" You huffed at his comment but you had to nod.

"Yes." You mumbled, fingers curling in his hair to scratch his scalp. He gave a small hum and pulled away from you again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he did.

"Right, and I'd be upset because?" You thought for a while but whatever train of thought you were on was cutoff when you felt him twitching against your ass. "Sweetheart, we can take it slow, you just gotta talk to me."

You inhaled deeply, nodding along as he spoke. "Jamie," you started, "I-I want you to take me... my virginity..." Your voice fell to a mumble, embarrassed at actually saying it out loud, so bluntly as well. Straight to his face.

James smiled up at you. "Alright then." He said, hand going to undo your shorts.

Your face flushed as he did so. "What-what are you doing?" You asked, slight panic slipping into your voice.

"Don't worry, I told you we can take it slow." He assured, closing the gap between you for a moment as he helped you out of your shorts. "But that means I have to get you ready for me, sweetheart, it's not gonna be easy fitting me into you if you're not ready." While it made sense you didn't want to think too much about it.

James continued to pepper your face with kisses as he pushed your panties to the side. He ran a finger through your folds, giving a small hum of approval at how wet you were already. He pushed a finger into you, enjoying the soft gasp that left you when he did.

"Tell me, sweetheart, and be honest." He spoke. "You have touched yourself before, haven't you?" He asked, combing his free hand through your hair.

You hesitated before answering, cheeks already dusted a candy red colour. "Um, I-I have toys..." You mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes as you said it.

James's smile widened. "You do, do you?" He asked. "And when you use them, you think of me don't you?" He questioned further, started to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your breaths grew heavy, eyelids fluttering as his finger moved. "I think of you, Jamie." You said, but it wasn't enough, you were already going this far, you had more to get off your chest. "I-I think of you on top of me, I think of the faces you make and I think of what you sound like... I think of you naked, I think of-of what you'd look like with my-my hand around you... your cock... I think about what it-it looks like when you cum." Once you started you couldn't stop, all the filthy things you'd been thinking about coming out like dirty commandments.

James listened in slight shock, he hadn't known you to be so needy. "Filthy slut." He said with a smile, adding a second digit. "Keep talking." He urged. "I want to hear what else you think of when you're getting yourself off."

The addition of another finger made you whine but he slowed down to let you get used to the stretch. You swallowed thickly and nodded, mentally preparing yourself to continue.

You closed your eyes, letting his fingers resume the same motion, in and out, slow and curling to find what made you tick. "I think ah-about riding you, my-my hands on your chest while you tell me wh-ah- what to do, how-how good I'm doing."

"What kind of toys do you have, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You bit your lip, he wasn't even supposed to know you touched yourself, now he was supposed to know what you're using to do it with? "C'mon, I won't judge." He said, kissing the tip of your nose as his fingers curled in you, making your eyes roll and he knew to hit that spot again.

"They-they're vibrators."

"They?" He repeated. "As in multiple?" Your eyes widened as the realization of what you'd admitted to. "Naughty girl." He curled his fingers again, bringing you closer to your already nearing release.

James added another finger, moving his hand faster now as he scissored your hole in an attempt to prep you for his cock. "When you're alone in bed with your toys, that's how you do it, isn't it?" He asked for confirmation.

You gave it willingly, nodding your head as more moans started falling from your lips.

"You're thinking about me." He continued. "What kind of vibrators?" He asked again. "You've never had anything inside you, sweetheart, right? I'll be the first?" You nodded, his fingers making it hard to focus on anything else. He chuckled as he saw how close you were. "That's it, that's my good girl, cum on my fingers."

Your gut tightened before bursting, your eyes rolled back. Your hands resting on his shoulder clutched his shirt in your fists as you came, a string of curses leaving you.

James groaned lowly at the sight, his fingers still moving in you and letting you ride out your high on them.

As you came down from it, though, he let you melt into him, slowly and carefully shifting you to lay on your back on the mattress. Your head fell back onto his pillow, his scent filling your nose, completely taking you over.

James hovered over you a moment, propping himself between your legs and holding himself up with his hands firmly planted on either side of your head. "Is this what you fantasize about, sweetheart?" You could only nod and let him undress you before following shortly after.

"I'll go slow, so just relax." He said, brushing some of your hair out of your face. "And if, for any reason, you want to stop, tell me. I want to know- I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything for whatever reason, am I understood?" He asked firmly, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand.

You nodded, staring right back at him as he used his other hand to line himself up with your cunt before pushing in. He did just what he said he would, moving slowly.

He stopped to pepper kisses all over your face and tell you how good you were doing. "That feels good, doesn't it? Feels good when I stretch you out like this." You nodded, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed out on his back.

"You-you're so big." You mumbled, looking down at him in hopes of catching a glimpse of where you both connected. Only, what you saw was a few more inches still needing to be pushed in.

James let out hearty laugh when he saw your eyes widen. "Only halfway, sweetheart, you'll know when I'm balls deep, don't worry."

You slowly relaxed back into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, mind full. "You're gonna tear me in two." You muttered to no one in particular, James was the only one there to hear and it made him laugh.

"Damn right I am." He agreed. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else, sweetheart, no ones gonna stretch you out like this, no ones gonna make you theirs." His eyes flickered over your face, taking in your expression of wide eyes and the small pout on your lips. "No one else gets to be your first."

In a quick motion he pushed the rest of himself into you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, hands clawing at his back and making him groan. He looked down, grin only getting bigger as he saw the bulge he made in your stomach.

"No one else gets to do that." He purred, reaching a hand down to press on your stomach. A whine left you as he did, your legs tried to close but he was in the way. "Not so fast, sweetheart, we haven't even gotten started yet."

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Dirty Secret (18+)

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader x Bayverse!Michelangelo

A/N: Just a little something I’ve had in my Docs for months, so I thought it was time to get it out there for you. Hope you’ll enjoy💙🧡

All characters are aged up.

Warning: Voyeurism, masturbation, groping.

It was not something Mikey was proud of, but at this point, he had stopped trying to restrain himself. If it stood to him, he would never let anybody know what he was doing, especially neither you or Leonardo.

It started by total accident. Mikey had gotten out of bed one night, and decided to go to the kitchen in order to get something to eat, while the rest of his family was sound asleep - or so he thought. Had he known, Mikey might not even have gotten out of bed, staying in his room until his snack hunger was over. But of course, Mikey did not know. He could not tell the future, and he did really want a snack. So to the kitchen he went.

There Mikey stood there in the kitchen, enjoying a poptart that Donnie hadn’t yet gotten a hold of - one of the simple pleasures in life, when you lived in a sewer - when he suddenly heard it. A low stream of sounds coming from Leo’s room. Looking back, Mikey should have known what he was hearing, but his curiosity and innocence got the better of him, and soon he found himself in front of his oldest brother’s bedroom door, looking through the keyhole, wondering what weird kind of training his oldest brother had gotten himself into.

There he saw you and Leo naked on Leo’s bed, your legs as far over his shoulders as they would go, while he slowly buckled his hips against yours, watching your face, studying your reactions, taking in your small sounds with each and every move he did against you.

Mikey almost dropped his poptart, stopping his chewing with wide eyes, feeling himself getting flustered. He was not supposed to see that. He was definitely not supposed to see that. Never in his life had he ever thought he would accidently get a view of his big brother, fucking his own girlfriend in the comfort og his room.

Mikey knew it was wrong. This was just not a thing you did. It was wrong. So wrong. Mikey told himself to get a hold of his poptarts, and turn around and leave for his bedroom, and not come out until he was sure you were gone. Yet Mikey kept standing there in front of Leo’s door, watching through the keyhole, even taking a bite of his poptart as he did so.

Slowly chewing his poptart, he watched how you held onto Leo’s arms for dear life, as Leo started to speed up his thrusts into you. It didn’t take long before the sound of your hips slapping together started echoing throughout Leo’s room, and just through the keyhole Mikey was still looking through. At first, Mikey kept watching, stickley out of fascination. He had never had sex before, and this was definitely not something you would get to see very often. Sure, Mikey had seen porn several times, but never before had he seen a mutant turtle go to town on a human woman. It had always been hard, imagining himself in the place of all those human men, on that orange and black website, but this made it a lot easier…

Mikey stayed outside of Leo’s bedroom, until the two of you were finished (at least with that round), where the two of you started to engage in some soft and sweet aftercare. At that point Mikey really felt like he was pushing it, and made a quick dash back to his bedroom with the poptarts he still had left. But unfortunately for Mikey, he had a very hard time falling asleep after what he had witnessed. It did not matter how many poptarts he tried to eat, hoping that they could take his mind off of it, or somehow make him sleepy. And he just couldn’t stop thinking about it. And the more he thought about it, the more did Leo seem to disappear from that memory. It didn’t take long before Mikey’s mind had replaced the leader in blue, with the thought of himself, being the one ramming into you, causing you to moan out in pleasure and ecstasy.

And as the thought of Mikey being the one, fucking you into the matterass underneath you, he could not fight the effect that it started to have on him. He felt his senses grow stronger, along with a pressing feeling in his nether region. But Mikey did not want to admit his body’s own reactions to himself. Not even has he felt his member, slowly make its way out of the slit of his cloaca. It wasn’t until he dropped straight into his own pants, that Mikey allowed himself to pull his shorts down, letting his hard member spring furth, already leaking with pre-cum, begging for him to give it some attention. And so, that night Mikey wrapped his hand around himself, to the thought of you being the one enclosing him with your warm and wet cunt.

The next day, Mikey did everything in his power not to look at either you or Leo. He simply couldn’t face you, knowing that he hadn't just shot one load, while thinking of you moaning and whimpering with joy beneath him, but two. Mikey had two, toe curling, eye rolling and hip thrusting orgasms, at the mercy of his own hand while thinking of you. And for just a moment, last night, Mikey had forgotten that you weren’t his, and that you were in fact together with Leo. So to see you and Leo emerge from Leo’s bedroom together, before heading for the kitchen for something to eat, was like a slap of reality to Mikey’s face. It reminded Mikey of just how wrong his own actions in his own bedroom were. What a betrayal it was to his brother, to think of his girlfriend in such a way.

As Mikey sat there at the kitchen table, deep in thought, trying his best not to look in you and Leo’s direction, mentally berating himself for what he did, he suddenly noticed something out of the corner of his eye. You and Leo stood at the kitchen counter with your backs turned to him, and you cooking something, with one of Leo’s arms wrapped around your shoulder, talking about something Mikey didn’t fully understand. But it was here that Leo’s arm slowly dropped from your shoulder, his hand slowly sliding down the curve of your back, before coming to a rest on your pants-covered ass. There Leo’s hand did a groping motion, before slowly grabbing a fistfull, causing you to giggle and shake your head with a smile, before leaning in against him, saying something along the lines of; “you can’t wait for tonight, can you?”

Mikey froze for a moment, realizing what your words to Leo meant. And with that, Mikey realized that you and Leo most likely were going at it again that night. And it was at that moment - no matter how wrong Mikey knew it was - that Mikey decided that he was going to get another pack of poptarts, and see if he could get some more material of you to enjoy himself with.

[joeyspuckbunny]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅flu season - j. woll⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: It's flu season in Toronto and Joseph gets pneumonia. Oh no !! This is just a little snippet of Y/N taking care of him while his body fights against this virus. request: since woller is sick at the moment would you be able to write something where he’s not feeling well and you’re taking care of him? word count: 1019 warning(s): kinda short, not proof read notes: i had pneumonia over the summer and it was the worst experience of my life. i was dead for like two weeks and it took my 4 months to fully recover. really channeling that energy into this fic. i hope you love it !! xoxo

Your favourite grocery store was empty on this Thursday morning in January. It's cold but there is no snow on the ground. It's about 9 AM as you wander around the produce section, grabbing things to make soup for your sick boyfriend, who is currently lying at home with pneumonia.

Chicken, got it. Celery, got it. Carrots, got it. Noodles, got it. Might as well grab some cold medicine while you're here.Y ou stand in the checkout line and wait for the young girl (maybe no older than 18) to finish scanning your groceries.

"I can bag them, love, don't worry," you say, pulling out your debt card to pay. She smiles and says, "You have a lovely day".

"You too".

The drive home is long and tedious. Downtown Toronto is bustling now. People on their way to work, getting coffee, dropping their kids off at school. These are mundane moments you cherish. Dating a pro athlete is hard when all you want is some peace. He's always gone or busy. Sometimes it's nice to not have to rush home after work to head to a game or dinner or the gym.

You took work off today after Joseph's diagnosis yesterday. He was upset that he would be out of the Toronto Maple Leafs line up for the next few games. Taking the day off to take care of him was the least you could do to cheer him up. In fact, he practically begged you.

"Joey, baby, I'm home," you open the door to you shared condo and hear the tv from your bedroom. After setting down the grocery bags and your purse, you take off your coat and hang it up in the closet. Nothing has changed since you left your apartment earlier. You wander down the hall and into you bedroom, seeing Joe half-asleep, tucked into bed watching Big Bang Theory. Exactly how you left him.

He turns on his side slightly when he hears the door open. "Hmmm, you're home," he blinks slowly and smiles softly, sighing. It's good to see that he can take deep breaths without coughing a lung up. You make your way over to the bed and sit down beside him. He leans on you. "How are you feeling, sweetie?", you ask, running your fingers through his tangled hair. He just nod, "I'm feeling ok". You nod.

"Eat anything yet?"

He nods his head and points to the empty bowl on the nightstand, "Oatmeal with banana". "Good," you say in response, "I have the thermometer. Open wide". He does as he's told. The thermometer beeps after a few seconds under Joe's tongue. It reads 100.5 degrees. "Still have the fever," you say. You put your hand on his forehead, leave it for a second and then trace your fingers over his stubble covered cheek. "Ok, now antibiotics," you hand him two pills and a glass of cold water from his nightstand. He sits up a little bit and tosses back the pills. As he swallows, you give him a quick kiss on his warm forehead.

After being in a few long term relationships you have learnt a few things. One of those things being that when men are sick, all they want is someone to take care of them. They will listen to anything you say as long as you are helping them through their ailment. Whether it be a cold or cancer.

"I got your mom to send me her soup recipe. I'm gonna make a whole pot of it for the next few days," you open your phone and show him the recipe, "It's chicken noodle". He nods, "Sounds good". You get up to leave and get started on the soup, but Joe grabs your hand.

"What?" you turn, a confused look on your face. "Stay with me, baby, please," Joe looks up at you, his big blue eyes boring into your soul, like a little puppy. "I just ate. I'm not hungry and..." he fake coughs, leading him to cough very hard for real, "I'm sick".

You sigh. You really should get started on the soup, but he looks so sad and sweet, lying there waiting for you to lay down next to him. He pats the white comforter beside him as if to beckon you into his warm embrace. You smile and say, "Only for a bit, Joe. I need to start on the soup," while climbing in beside him.

About 45 minutes go by and Joe is fast asleep on your shoulder. You laugh slightly at the sight of his open mouth and the sound of his snores.

You called his mother yesterday to see if you could do anything to make him feel more at home (because Toronto in the winter is very different than St. Louis) and she said, "No, sweetheart, he just needs to rest. I'm a firm believer that sleep is the best medicine but that's especially true for our Joey. Been like that since he was a kid". Your remember the smile on your face when she said "our Joey". You had only met Shelley, his mom, once or twice, but she had been so welcoming that you felt like you'd known her for years.

Joe looks so peaceful while sleeping. He always does, but because he is sick, he looks it even more. You lean down slowly and go in to kiss him, but before you can, he wakes. "Hey there, Joey, feeling ok?" you say, with a small smile. He groans, stretching his back and arms, "Yeah. I feel better". He takes another deep breath and rubs his eyes. You smile and kiss his cheek, "Wanna come help me make the soup now?".

"Sure. Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for taking care of me. You're the greatest girlfriend ever. I'm gonna marry you one day. I promise."

You are slightly taken aback by his comment but, nevertheless, you smile. How lucky could you possibly be? Getting this perfect man and being able to call him yours. "Of course, Joe, I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N"

[zeekszooks]

The only thing I want my ai robot to do that might be considered "pattern watching" and "generative" would be a Baymax.

Basically using a data log with trial and error in order to just be kind of a care robot. Though technology now is WAY too under advanced and at this point should send people to doctors rather than y'know play doctor?

Also this 'Baymax' would also HAVE to be made by doctors like reason why the Baymax we know took trial and error. (Honestly in the movie 84 tries is a mindblowingly low for success good on him tho.) Though that's the difference. Real life Baymax is not a replacement to the real deal human... as well as the tool that doctors use.

Humans are still needed and it is a tool to assist. It shouldn't replace the entire process. I say the only time the genertive is ok is IF you don't literally copy and paste then say you did all the work. You either use it as a reference or guide to improve your craft.

Also I don't respect AI that is programmed by artwork that was unvoluntary. It's like hearing the quiet kid say a joke then saying it louder and not saying 'oh I was just saying it louder _ is a hoot right guys?' Like those artist didn't want you to take and use their art without credit.

Though even WITH credit it's pretty ... well scummy... like... honestly I'd compare it to more like the Honey extention. You didn't ask you didn't tell and boy howdy even if you did tell you really shouldn't have. ... no really...

The first one I mentioned COULD be like a walking 911 machine for the human if they... like are close to hard attack or stoke ect to get humans... the whole point is the end result is human doing the thing. If AI did the whole task it gets rid of the humanity... and charm... and art... is very much a 'Why did you put this here what is the meaning nice brush what settings?' (VERY MUCH SO WITH ABSTRACT TOO.)

Artist help artist grow. AI helps me get very uninterested in the your art because there was no well... choice, with symbolism or anything. No, 'Why did they put this here?' Not even a, 'Is that a style choice? It seems consistant enough though I might ask if it's a headcannon or possibly an au!'

It's just:

Me: "Oh cool what brush did you use I wanna try it out to try myself!"

Random Person: "It's AI good prompt right?"

Me: "Uh neat. Gonna use it as a reference?"

Random Person: "Nope this is it. I could NEVER draw. You people are just born with a talent."

Me: "Huh."

My inner monolouge: They are not going to improve their craft? Like at all? Practice is all it takes... this is boring now I can't even think on why they chose a heart instead of a star because it was probably an AI error.

Me: "Cool thx bye."

Also... btw I wasn't born with the art skills I have... it takes a lot to improve. Also I still think I can improve. (Artist curse trying not to say I suck)

I don't know if Op agrees but just know I'm agreeing people are using it poorly but also not for a better use. I do think Op prefers a human making the art in the end at least.

i wonder if these ai people are thinking that im gonna be like "aahh!! you're right!! ive been such a fool !! certainly i can tell a robot to make something for me and it'll be just as good as something i can make with my own hands!! thank you, group of buffoons!" im not man. im really not

[one-green-frog]

Could I get a sanji x male reader pls? Also the reader having devil fruit powers that give him wings pls?

By Your Side, Always

Sanji x m!winged!Reader

The gentle sway of the Thousand Sunny was peaceful as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of amber and rose. Sanji leaned against the railing of the ship, his ever-present cigarette hanging between his fingers. His thoughts, however, were far from any culinary ideas or flirtations. His eyes were trained on the figure perched atop the crow’s nest — (Y/N).

You had joined the crew only a few months ago, bringing with you the unique powers of your Devil Fruit. The “Tori Tori no Mi: Model barn owl” had granted you a pair of wings, magnificent and grand, each feather with an interesting new pattern when put together create the most beautiful wings.To Sanji, those wings were not just a testament to your abilities but a reflection of your spirit — free, untamed, and breathtakingly beautiful.

“Sanji, you okay there? You’ve been staring at (Y/N) for ages,” Nami teased as she walked by, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Sanji jolted, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I-I was just… making sure he’s not slacking off! Someone’s gotta keep an eye on him!”

Nami chuckled knowingly before leaving him to his thoughts. Sanji cursed under his breath, feeling exposed. He couldn’t deny it anymore — he was absolutely smitten with you. From the way your laughter echoed across the ship to the moments you swooped down with those magnificent wings, his heart raced every time.

Just then, you descended gracefully from the crow’s nest, landing on the deck with a soft thud. Your wings folded behind you, their sheer size spoke of their strength. Sanji quickly straightened, taking a deep drag of his cigarette to mask his flustered expression.

“Hey, Sanji,” you greeted, your voice carrying a warmth that made his chest tighten. “What’s for dinner tonight? I’m starving.”

“Something special,” Sanji replied, his usual suave tone kicking in despite his nerves. “You’ve been working hard today. I’ll make sure it’s worthy of a king.”

You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. “You’re too kind. But honestly, I think Zoro might collapse if he hears you pampering me again.”

“Let that mosshead collapse,” Sanji shot back, his tone playful. “You deserve the best.”

Your laughter filled the air, and Sanji felt his heart flutter. Before he could stop himself, his eyes drifted to your wings again. They caught the fading sunlight, each feather gleaming like it had been dipped in gold.

“Sanji?” you asked, tilting your head. “You’ve been staring at my wings a lot lately. Do they freak you out or something?”

Sanji’s eyes widened in alarm. “What? No! Not at all!” He stubbed out his cigarette hurriedly, trying to find the right words. “They’re… They’re incredible, (Y/N). Really. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

A soft smile spread across your face, and you stretched one wing out slightly. “You can touch them if you want.”

Sanji froze. “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” you said, stepping closer. “I don’t let just anyone touch them, but for you? It’s fine.”

Sanji’s breath hitched as you stood before him, your wings partially spread. Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers brushing against the soft feathers. They were warm and far softer than he had imagined. A strange sense of calm washed over him as he continued to trail his fingers along the edge.

“They’re… amazing,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Strong but soft. Like you.”

You blinked, surprised by his words. “Sanji…”

He pulled his hand back, suddenly aware of how intimate the moment had become. “Sorry! That was out of line—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice gentle. “It wasn’t. I... that was very nice of you to say.. thank you."

Sanji looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you standing there, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun.

“I’ve always admired you,” Sanji admitted softly. “Not just your wings, but everything about you. You’re brave, kind, and you’ve brought so much life to this ship. I… I think I’m falling for you, (Y/N).”

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, Sanji feared he’d overstepped. But then, a smile broke across your face, and you stepped closer, your wings enveloping the two of you in a cocoon of warmth.

“You’re something else, Sanji,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve fallen for you too.”

Sanji’s breath caught in his throat as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a soft, tender kiss. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as his heart threatened to burst from his chest.

When you finally pulled away, Sanji was left speechless, his cheeks flushed and his cigarette forgotten on the deck.

“So,” you said, your voice teasing, “about that dinner? I hope it’s as special as you promised.”

Sanji chuckled, his usual charm returning. “For you, my angel? It’ll be the best meal of your life.”

As you laughed and walked away, your wings swaying gently with each step, Sanji couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. You were his angel, and he was determined to show you just how much you meant to him