#like. hide in the walls and pretend to be a voice in their head
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aventurine, sunday, and any others when reader pretends to not remember them after a bad injury hehe…[angst with fluff at the end] i love giving my poor babies heart attacks mwahaha
anyways love u and ur writings btw k byeee drink water ok byeee 💕✨
“I'm sorry, but who are you?”
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Fluff, Light Humor Angst to Fluff, Established Relationship, Memory Loss, Reassurance.
Warnings: Emotional distress (brief moments of fear and confusion).
A/N: thanks for reminder, anon! 😪😮💨I really need to drink some water
Aventurine's eyes widened, his usual playful smirk faltering as you looked at him, confusion clouding your gaze. He reached out, as though instinctively wanting to close the distance between you, but he hesitated. Your words cut through the air, soft and fragile.
"You… you are… who exactly?"
The words stung more than he expected. His heart raced in his chest as he observed the faint, distant look in your eyes. He had always been in control of the game, masterful in reading people, but this? This was a blow to his carefully constructed facade.
"You don’t remember me?" His voice was softer now, the bravado slipping as his pulse quickened.
You shook your head, an empty feeling creeping into your chest. "I don’t think so. Sorry… am I supposed to?"
Aventurine's smile faltered, and for a moment, you saw something raw beneath his cool exterior. Pain. Fear. He stepped back slightly, trying to hide the cracks forming in his walls.
"I suppose I’ve miscalculated…" he muttered to himself, voice barely audible.
But then, you reached out and touched his arm gently.
"I—"
Aventurine looked at you, his breath catching in his throat as you softly smiled. "I do remember you, though. Maybe I was just… testing you?"
The game was on again, but this time, it was different. He chuckled, a soft, relieved sound that made the weight of his worries lift just a little.
"You're dangerous, you know that?" he said, his voice returning to its usual lighthearted tone, though there was an underlying tenderness now.
You smiled. "I think I’ll keep you on your toes."
And with that, the shadows of doubt lifted, replaced by the warmth of your presence—one he could no longer imagine being without.
Sunday stood there, his eyes darkened with a mix of concern and confusion, staring at you as if you were a stranger. His fingers twitched slightly, an impulse to reach out, to make sure you were real, that you hadn’t slipped into some other world.
"You… you don’t recognize me?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, fragile under the weight of his own disbelief.
You blinked at him, the blank look in your eyes unnerving him more than he cared to admit. "I’m sorry… I don’t think I do. Are we… close?"
The air between you seemed to freeze, thick with unspoken emotions. His mind was racing—how could you forget him, forget everything you had shared? The kindness, the warmth, the bond he’d built so carefully with you...
"I see," Sunday murmured, his gaze softening with a hint of sadness. "I suppose it’s a part of the dream, isn't it? To forget… to lose everything."
You could see the strain in his expression, the hope fading from his eyes. "Sunday, I… I didn’t mean to forget you."
You reached for him, your hand trembling as you touched his sleeve. The contact seemed to pull him out of his thoughts, and his breath caught.
A moment of stillness.
Then Sunday smiled faintly, the sadness still lingering. "I suppose we’ll just have to make you remember, won't we?" His voice was gentle, though you could hear the underlying fear in it.
You smiled, this time with a reassurance he needed. "I think I already do."
A sigh escaped him, a soft, grateful breath as he pulled you into his arms.
"Don't ever scare me like that again." he murmured into your hair, holding you close.
Ratio’s usual air of unshakable confidence was nowhere to be seen. He stood before you, his eyes wide with confusion and an almost frantic edge to his movements.
"You—don’t remember me?" he repeated, his voice betraying a crack he hadn’t expected.
You stared at him, trying to piece together the fragments of the world around you, the details of his appearance leaving you more unsettled than anything. "I… I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you."
His frown deepened, his expression unreadable but filled with something you couldn't quite place—was it hurt? Disbelief?
"I see. This is… unfortunate," he said, voice smooth yet tinged with something that didn’t fit. He folded his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing slightly. "I expected better from your memory."
You looked at him more closely, sensing a vulnerability underneath the sharpness of his demeanor. He was, despite his intellectual brilliance, losing himself in this.
You took a step closer, closing the distance between you, your hand reaching for his, gently catching his wrist. "I’m sorry… but I’m sure we’ve met before. I just—"
He paused, his sharp breath catching in his throat as he looked down at your hand on his. For a brief moment, his composure cracked, and you could see the raw emotion behind his usually controlled facade.
"Don't do this to me," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if the weight of the situation was too much to bear. "You must remember."
You smiled softly, understanding now. "I remember. You’re the one who always insists on teaching me things."
His gaze softened instantly, a relieved exhale leaving him. "Good."
Ratio’s usual brilliance returned, but this time, there was something gentler about him. "Perhaps next time, try not to lose your memory so easily."
And though his words were sharp, his hand reached out to take yours, a reassurance that you were not lost to him.
Me lmaoo
#honkai star rail#hsr#x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#hsr aventurine x reader#sunday hsr#sunday x reader#sunday sunday sunday#hsr sunday#ratio honkai star rail#hsr dr ratio#hsr ratio#ratio x reader#dr ratio#hurt/comfort#fluff and angst#angst with a happy ending#emotional hurt/comfort#light humor#established relationship#memory loss#reassurance#emotional distress
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Free Use Jail Cell, Part 6
MDNI // 18+ content
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader
Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.
Word Count: 3.8k approx (part 6)
Chapter Summary: You are at the mercy of Chief Chan and Officer Felix.
A/n: The time has come! Finally the Aussies have their way with y/n. I know so many of you have been hanging out for this chapter, sending messages and comments, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I know it was a long time coming.
Two things I need to mention, though. The first, I forgot Minho was a detective in the last chapter and called him 'officer' (do you think he'd be a dear and punish me for my mistake?), and two, I mentioned his clothes got soaked in the shower, but nothing about him changing into dry clothes. Let’s just pretend he did.
CW below the cut.
CW: where do I start? Frisking innapropriately, vaginal and anal fingering, photographing of injuries, pinching a nipple, spanking with a belt, handcuffs, bloody lip, hole inspection, crude language about how swollen and how much it's going to hurt, spit roasting, oral sex (m rec), cum eating, cream pie, size kink, name calling (cockslut, whore, babygirl, good girl etc, multiple orgasms, brief breeding kink, rough sex, soft dom moments from Chan and Felix, double vaginal penetration, color system (all green for go ahead), aftercare, angst (you'll see why).
>>>>>>>>
The time arrives for you to finally visit the chief and one his officers, Felix.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Minho says as he does up the last button on the oversized shirt he’d helped you into.
You nod. You’re ready, but nervous.
“Now, remember your color system, your safe word. You don’t have to do anything you don—“ he stops abruptly, coughing awkwardly as he realizes he sounds far too concerned than he should.
Flustered, he clenches his hands into fists and steps back from you.
Again, just like earlier, your heart flutters for just a brief moment, and you swallow hard. You can’t understand it. This is definitely not the context to be feeling things.
Detective Minho walks close to your side as you make your way to the Chief’s office, a protective hand on your lower back.
“Just knock and wait for them to answer.” He says stopping at the door. “Make sure you’re a good girl for them, okay?” He leans in to your ear. “I can’t wait to feel you again later.” Your eyes widen and your cunt clenches, but he walks away like he said nothing at all.
Knock knock.
You tap on the door and wait.
You only have to wait a brief moment before the door opens and you see Office Lee. Felix. He gives you a big, beautiful smile and ushers you into the office.
You’re taken by surprise when you’re immediately spun around and your chest is pressed against the wall beside the door.
“Gotta frisk you, love.” Officer Felix says sweetly. His hands are firm and deliberate as he pats over your shoulders and arms, the down the sides of your body.
“You’ll need to step a little wider, please.” He whispers in your ear.
You part your legs and his hand immediately drags up your inner thigh to cup your pussy, sending tingles through your body. You lean your head against the wall and let out a shaky breath.
“Need to do the internal now.” He says low and slips a finger deep into your heat. You squeak at the intrusion, but it turns to a low moan when he slowly drags his finger in and out of you. His fingers are expert, knowing exactly where that sweet spot is inside you. You rock back against his fingers and moan again.
“Hmm,” he says, “looks like you’re hiding a lot of creaminess here.” He reaches around, offering his cream-coated finger to your mouth. You open and let him slip it inside, pressing it against your tongue, and you suck it willingly.
“Now for the other pretty hole.” There’s a strain in his voice as he snakes his other hand underneath your shirt to find your ass. You whimper around the finger in your mouth as he presses his other against your hole.
The ring of muscle offers little resistance, and the tip of his finger pushes past the rim. Your eyes squeeze tight and your hands press into the wall to steady yourself as he begins to press his finger in further. Although your ass has already had plenty of things done to it in the last twenty four hours, the stretch still feels like a sweet mix of pleasure and pain.
With two fingers scissoring your ass, and a few shoved into your mouth, you’re on the brink of coming. You know that somewhere in the room Chief Chan is watching, even though you didn’t get a chance to see where he was.
Your moans are muffled from Felix’s fingers, and your cunt is leaking arousal down your inner thighs. You feel like a mess and they haven’t even started yet.
Your legs tremble as your pussy clenches around nothing, and you come, pathetically, just like that.
Felix removes all his fingers from your ass and your mouth, and wipes them on your shirt. “Good girl. Now we need to take photos. Come.” He grabs your arm and guides you to turn around.
This is the first time you see the room. It really does look like a Police Chief’s office, with a long, low coffee table surrounded by armchair couches.
At the far end of the room is a large timber desk, and sitting on the edge of the desk is the Chief. Chief Chan.
“Y/n.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling, his expression devilish. “Now you’re going to be a good little prisoner for us, yeah?” He stands up only to take a seat in the couch at the head of the coffee table. “Gonna let Officer Lee here take some good photos of your injuries?”
He settles into his chair. “Strip.” He commands.
Your hands tremble as you unbutton your shirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving you bare for them.
“Fuck.” Chan mutters under his breath. “So perfect.” He swallows hard. “Felix, get started.”
Felix pulls a set of handcuffs from his belt and secures them around your wrists in front of you. “I need you on all fours on the coffee table. Ass towards the Chief. He needs to see all of you.”
You climb onto the table, positioning yourself so Chan can see everything. He lets out a low hum, when he sees the red welts on your ass cheeks.
Felix retrieves a camera from a drawer to the side of the room, and begins to photograph and take note of your injuries.
“Those red welts would be from the paddling she received in the interrogation.” Felix says. Click. Click. “And this cut on her neck, was from Jeongin in the shower.” Click. Click. “Note, there’s also some minor marks on her wrists from various restraints.
“What about her nipples?” Chief Chan interrupts.
“Up on your knees, I need to check.” You rise to your knees and Felix reaches out to stroke your nipple, causing you to shudder under his touch.
“They’re a little bruised.” He tweaks the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then pulls away to take a photograph.
You look down at your nipples to see they are in fact bruised. You hadn’t realized how hard Minho and Seungmin had those clamps attached.
Felix continues to examine your body, photographing any marks or bruises he finds along the way.
“Chief. Would you like to do the honors? Y/n, back on your hands and knees. Its time for your ‘hole inspection’.”
Fuck! The words ‘hole inspection’ hit you straight in the pussy.
“Of course. Pass me your torch. Spread her ass wide for me.” Chan says gruffly, his tone laced with arousal.
You sense Chief Chan moving behind you, and the click of the torch. With a hand on each of your cheeks, Felix spreads you wide so you’re on display. You feel a surge of heat wash over you. You’re excited, aroused, and so fucking nervous. You’re loving being vulnerable like this.
You feel a pad of a thumb on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. You lean your head on the table, trying your hardest not to whimper. It’s difficult though. Especially how they’re talking about you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy.
“Fucking hell, Felix. Look at how used her cunt looks.” Felix leans in for a closer look, while Chan jams a finger inside your pussy. “Her lips are swollen. So red. Rubbed raw.” He says incredulously. “Chief? How’s she gonna take both our cocks. She looks too swollen.”
“Don’t worry, Lixie. We’ll make them fit. Every inch of us both.” Chan laughs like a crazed man as he tries to spread your hole wide so can try and see inside. “Look at that! She likes the idea of it being a struggle, she’s dripping wet.”
Chan runs a finger along your wet folds, gathering your creaminess. He’s not wrong. This is one of your fantasies. Taking two huge, throbbing cocks in your tight, abused little cunt.
You bite your bottom lip, willing the intrusive thoughts about how sick you must be away, and instead try to remember Detective Minho’s words. “You’re not a sick freak”.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts when a loud harsh slap of a belt lands on your skin, hitting you where you were still tender from the paddling.
The sting is almost unbearable, and you bite down on your lip so hard you taste blood.
Another hit with the belt has you crying out, and the third strike has you sobbing loudly.
The fourth lands on your swollen pussy lips, and your knees buckle, causing you slip and land on your stomach.
Chief Chan doesn’t care, and he keeps landing more hits with the belt on your ass.
Felix gently pushes your hair off the side of you face and leans in, kissing your cheek gently.
“Remember you can use your safe word. What color are we on?” He stokes your back awaiting your answer.
Chan pauses his ministrations.
“G-g-green.” You sob. “P-please….need to c-come.” You begin to bawl your eyes out.
“Shh… it’s okay. We’ll take care of you.” Felix reassures you, continuing to stoke your back, and Chan rubs your cheeks gently, before landing three more strikes to your sore ass.
“Time to make the Chief feel good.” Says Felix. “Then we can make you feel good, yeah”. He helps you up but doesn’t uncuff you.
He turns you to face Chan who has resumed his seat in the armchair. He appears to like what he sees. You with tear streaks all down your face, and a bloody lip that’s beginning to drip down your chin, it seems to have an effect on him.
He exhales sharply, his jaw clenched and fists in tight balls on the chair arms. You know he’s going to absolutely enjoy this.
“Come. Down on your knees for the Chief.”
You kneel between Chan’s widespread legs and look up it him through your eyelashes. He leans down and wipes your lip, smearing blood across your face.
“You seem to enjoy pain.” He says low, cupping your cheek. You stare at him wide eyed, holding your breath. “Which is lucky, cos you should have seen your cunt just now. I promised Officer Felix we’d make it fit, but I’m not so sure you’re gonna be able to take it without it hurting.”
You gulp.
“Now,” His grip on your jaw tightens. “I need you to put this pretty little mouth to good use while Felix tries to pry you open a bit, yeah?”
He leans back in the chair waiting for you to begin.
You can already see he is big just from the bulge in his trousers, and when you release it from its confines you can’t help but gasp at the sight.
Enormous. So many thick, pulsing veins, and it's heavy. So fucking heavy looking.
You hold it tentatively in your still cuffed hands, giving it an experimental pump. He hisses loudly when you lean down and lick the slit of his cock head.
“I think you can do better than that.” He growls and grabs a fist full of hair on the back of your head, pushing you down over his length.
He pushes you too deep and you gag loudly around him. But he simply chuckles at your struggle and holds you there.
Felix positions himself behind you, kneeling and pressing his cock to your entrance. He holds your hips steady with one hand and pushes into you. Chan was right, you are swollen, and it is a big stretch just to accept the tip.
Chan loosens his grip on your hair, giving you the opportunity to show him what a good little girl you can be.
You sink back over his shaft, relaxing your throat to take him just that little bit more. He groans in approval and rests his head back on the couch.
Felix fills you inch by inch. It stings, yet it feels so satisfying to be stretched open. You groan, the vibrations from your mouth making Chan shudder.
Felix slams the last of his length inside you, taking you by surprise and making you choke on Chan’s cock.
He then thrusts slowly, allowing you to concentrate on pleasing Chan, but every drag of his cock inside you is bringing you closer and closer to another orgasm.
“I wish all pussies were this compliant.” Felix laughs. “This one’s opening up perfectly.”
He rolls his hips a few times, grinding against you deliciously, then snaps his hips hard, hitting your cervix brutally. He alternates between these actions, driving you crazy, sending you closer and closer to the edge.
Chan lets you do all the work on his cock, watching you drool all over it sloppily. Sucking, licking, gagging. You take as much as you possibly can into your throat. You use your hands where you can’t reach with your mouth. Every now and then he pushes your head down a little more, testing your limits.
“Fuck! She’s so tight, Chief. You wanna feel her? I’d love to come in her mouth if I’m allowed?” He thrusts into you hard. “I’m so close.”
“Mmm, yes, let me fill her little cunt with my cum, you fill her mouth.” Chan agrees.
You’re abruptly emptied of both penises and directed to straddle Chan on the couch with one foot on either side of him, and your back against his chest. He hooks his arms under your thighs and with Felix guiding Chan’s cock to your entrance, you’re lowered onto his length.
You whimper as your body stretches to accommodate him as he continues to fill you bit by bit.
You’re too full. There’s no way in hell you’re going to fit both of them at once.
Eventually, your ass meets his hips and you’re fully impaled on him.
“Fuck, yes. Such a good, tight, filthy cunt.” Growls Chan and he rolls his hips up against you while pulling you down as hard as he can.
You cry out.
“Shh now. Here.” Felix rubs the tip of his leaking cock against your check. You turn your head and open up to take him. He fucks your mouth a lot rougher than he fucked your cunt, pushing himself deeper and deeper into your throat on every thrust. It only takes a few minutes for him to cum down your throat with a pretty moan, his head thrown back.
It makes you clench hard around Chan. “Babygirl likes a belly full of cum? Good, cos she’s gonna be fed a whole lot when all the officers take her at once.” He says, pounding into you from below.
“Open up, love. Show me your empty mouth. That’s it. Good girl.” Felix is pleased when you stick out your tongue and show him just how hungry you are.
He removes the the remainder of his clothes and starts to fist his cock, working on getting it hard again.
Chan stands up, pushing you off his cock and laying you onto the coffee table unceremoniously. He folds you in half, pushing your legs up and then absolutely rams himself into you over and over.
The cold hard wood underneath you is uncomfortable on your back as you’re being fucked into it.
“You like this? You fucking little whore? Hmm? Love having a fat cock filling you up like this?” He leans down and kisses you. It’s unexpected, but you welcome it. It’s rough and harsh, just like his cock, and the pressure inside you becomes too much.
He pulls away and you look down to see just how thick and long he is, and how much he stretches and fills you. Your engorged, pink lips enveloping him as your cunt sucks him in. You whimper as your body starts to shake, and with a loud cry, you drench his cock, clenching around it, coming hard.
“That’s our girl. Yeah milk me. Milk Channie’s huge cock!” He demands as his eyes scrunch tight and he lets out an animalistic growl as he coats your insides.
He pulls away, panting, sweating, exhausted, and removes his clothes hastily.
Felix is quick to photograph the cum leaking out of you and you hold your legs up to ensure he gets a good view.
“So perfect.” He approves and sets the camera aside. “Y/n. It’s time. Let’s change positions.” He smiles and uncuffs your hands and helping you to your feet.
Chan produces a blanket from a drawer and spreads it out on the coffee table. He lays down on it and instructs you to straddle him.
Holding his cock steady, he pushes inside your still leaking cunt once again. It’s an impossibly tight squeeze, especially after your orgasm, but somehow he manages to fill you to the hilt. You both exhale sharply when he lifts you slightly and pulls you back down again.
“Come here, lean on me.” He invites you to lay against his chest and he wraps his arms around you. “You’re already choking me. I’m not sure I’m going to survive this.” He whispers against your ear.
He fucks you slowly for a few minutes, grinding up into you over and over. Meanwhile, Felix caresses your body, stroking your back, your ass and presses kisses along your back. He spreads your cheeks and curses low at what he sees.
You’re melting under their softer approach, which you know is all part of them relaxing you for what’s about to come.
“That’s it. Good girl.” Cooes Chan.
“Feels s'good.” You mumble.
“Yeah? You ready to take Officer Felix? Think you can do that for us?” He purrs.
You nod against his shoulder. “Wanna be a good girl.” You whimper.
Chan chuckles. “Yeah? I know you’re gonna be. You’re gonna take Felix like a good little cockslut.”
You feel Felix behind you, positioning himself. “Fuck, Chan.” Felix says uncertainly. “She looks so full already.”
“She’s okay, Lix. She’ll take you no matter what. Let’s fuck her brains out. Tear up her pussy.”
You moan and clench around Chan. You’re certain this man could make you come just with his filthy mouth.
You let out a low groan as Felix presses the tip of his cock at your entrance alongside Chan.
“F-fuck!” You cry when his tip pushes past the opening. “S’too much.” You pant.
“Color?” Chan says sternly.
“G-green. J-just slow, please! Slow.”
Chan holds you with one hand around your back, the other gently holding your ass, pulling the cheek aside to help give Felix access. “You guide us, yeah?”
“You ready to try for more?” Felix asks, a kindness in his voice. The man seems so kind, so considerate. You want to have him inside you too.
“Yes…more.” You pant.
Slowly, and under your direction, Felix squeezes in next to Chan. “So tight. Chan, how are you holding up?”
Chan’s voice is shaky when he answers. “M’not gonna last, mate. Pussy’s too good.”
“More…please…make me take it. Wannabe a good girl! Wanna come on two cocks. Just fuck me!” You ramble and nuzzle against Chan.
The stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your walls are stretched further than they have ever been, and they’re so deep inside you, owning you, making you theirs.
You begin to drool, as they take turns withdrawing and thrusting in a beautiful rhythm.
The men growl and grunt as they work together, eventually deciding that instead of one thrust in while the other withdraws, they are going to thrust in at the same time.
“Oh god! Fuck!” You wail.
The both laugh at your reaction, pleased with themselves.
“Harder! More!” You demand. You need them to really give it to you like they promised.
“Make it hurt!”
Their reaction tells you it is music to their ears to hear that.
“Ready, Lix? You heard her. Babygirl wants it to hurt.”
You almost regret it straight away. Felix’s fingers dig into your hips hard, and Chan digs his feet into the table for leverage.
Together they don’t hold back, fucking you brutally. You feel like your cunt is about to split into two. It’s stretched to its limits, yet it craves more. Frantically, you seek more friction, more depth and your body automatically pushes back down against them seeking more.
Lewd sounds fill the office. Sweaty skin slapping skin. Moans, whimpers and curses of ‘fuck’. Then there’s the wet sounds of your pussy. It’s all so dirty and filthy.
You feel yourself so close to your another orgasm, and when both men move a finger to your ass, you know you’re a goner.
“Think you can take both our fingers?”
“Ngh…y-yes…give it to me.” You sob.
The moment you feel your rim give way, and their fingers slip inside slightly and pulling in opposite directions, stretching your hole wide, your body shakes uncontrollably, and you come hard with a sound that can only be described something raw, something primal.
“Fuck! You feel that?” Cries Felix, slamming into you as hard as he can.
“Y-yeah! Fuck, she’s gonna suck us dry. So tight…. Fuuuuck!!” He groans as he cums, releasing himself deep in you. “That's it, let us breed you like a bitch in heat. Gonna take Lixie’s cum too? Mmm yeah? Gonna suck the cum out of him with your tight, hungry little cunt?”
“Mmhmm… yess…need his cum too.”
“Wanna be bred, yeah?”
“Y-yes….please. Please. Need it.” You’re dribbling all over Chan’s chest, mumbling in confusion. It all feels so overwhelmingly incredible. So good you’re going to -
“I’m fucking coming again!” You cry, clamping down around the the two men.
“Oh fuck! Gonna give you my cum. Gonna-”
Felix’s hips falter as he cums, filling you so much that it begins to seep out around both cocks.
He slips out of your tired pussy, and you already feel far too empty, and then Chan pulls out too making you sob at the loss.
“You okay?” Felix wraps a blanket around you and Chan produces warm towels to clean you up.
You nod and smile, although you’re also bawling your eyes out from how euphoric the experience felt. “It was so good. Thank you for being so…considerate. You know, letting me set the pace. As you know, that was my first time.”
“Of course.” Chan kneels down in front of you. “We take our roles very seriously. Our client’s needs are our top priority.” He wipes a tear away. “Now. You need to stay here and rest. Felix will bring you food. And if you are still up for it, we will commence the final request of yours as soon as you're good to go."
>>>>
Minho listens from the other side of the door. That’s right, you’re a client. Nothing more.
He sighs.
Then why did he listen to that entire interaction? Why did he feel like he needed to make sure they didn’t take things too far with you? Or that they would honor your safe word?
He knows Chan and Felix wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with, yet he stood there, fists clenched, listening to you whimpering? Waiting for an excuse to barge in there.
Fuck! He cards his fingers through his hair.
Why did he feel jealous when he heard the sounds that your sweet cunt made when they were inside you? Why did he want to burst in there and rip them from your body and sink himself inside you?
Why the fuck does he care so much?
He settles his mouth into a thin line. He know why, and it's absolutely not ideal. Not to mention it's against the rules of the job.
He sighs again and forces himself to walk away. He needs to figure out a way that he's going to handle watching you get gang banged, and quick.
>>>>
a/n: Oopies, someone is struggling with some feelings it seems. How did you enjoy this chapter? I really wanted to make it a longish one and really give the the Aussie their moment. Please, if you enjoyed, consider a reblog or leave a comment. I love hearing your thoughts on this series.
>>>>
@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @galaxycatdrawz @melochacco @jiwoos-babygirl @lunearta @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @courtnort455 @brimarie0512 @dwaekkicidal @kibs-and-bits @txa-r @minh0scat @the-sweet-rose @chrizzztopherbang @velvetmoonlght @youcanstayyeah @skzswife @stephanieeeyang @withnia @kibs-and-bits @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ihrtlino
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin@weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @jiminssluttyminx @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife @delulustardust @eastjonowhere
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Labor Pains
Ellie x reader
Warnings: birth
The snow crunched beneath Ellie's boots as she glanced back at you. Her green eyes, sharp with concern, scanned your every movement. You smiled reassuringly, adjusting the strap of your backpack over your growing belly. It wasn’t easy convincing her to let you patrol, especially with how protective she had become since finding out you were pregnant. The baby wasn’t hers biologically—your ex had died in the early days of the outbreak before you and Ellie had met—but that didn’t matter. To Ellie, the baby was hers too.
“You sure you’re up for this?” she asked for the third time, her voice low but firm. Her hand lingered near the pistol holstered at her side.
“Yes, Ellie,” you replied, trying to sound exasperated but failing to hide the affection in your tone. “I’ll be fine. You’re the one who should be resting, remember?”
Ellie scowled, her injured shoulder still bandaged from the arrow that had grazed her during the last patrol. She hated feeling useless, and the thought of you patrolling without her made her stomach churn.
“I don’t like this,” she muttered.
“I’ll be with Joel,” you reminded her. “He’s like… a tank.”
Ellie snorted but didn’t laugh. Her brows furrowed in thought before she finally relented. “Fine. But you stay close to him. If anything happens—”
“I’ll be fine,” you promised again, stepping closer to kiss her cheek. “I’ll come back in one piece. Both of us will.”
Ellie hesitated, her hand resting on your belly for a moment before nodding.
---
As you and Joel prepared to leave, Ellie lingered at the gates, watching you from a distance. Joel walked over to her, his hands in his pockets.
“She’ll be fine, kiddo,” Joel said softly. “I’ll keep her safe.”
“I know,” Ellie replied, her voice cracking slightly. “I just… I love her, Joel. And the baby. It’s… it’s everything to me now.”
Joel’s expression softened, and he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing good by her, Ellie. And that baby’s gonna have one hell of a mama. Two, actually, if Maria has her way.”
Ellie chuckled despite herself, wiping at her eyes.
“And you?” Ellie asked, looking at him hesitantly. “You gonna stick around? Be like a… grandpa or something?”
Joel smirked, his eyes shining with rare warmth. “Already consider myself one. That kid’s family. Just like you are.”
Ellie nodded, a quiet smile tugging at her lips as she watched you and Joel ride out of Jackson.
---
As you and Joel rode along the icy trail, the rhythmic sound of the horses' hooves filled the silence. You rubbed your belly absentmindedly, smiling as you felt a little kick.
“You reckon it’s a boy or a girl?” Joel asked, breaking the silence.
You grinned. “What do you think?”
Joel tilted his head, pretending to think. “I’m bettin’ on a boy. Stubborn, tough… like his mama.”
You laughed. “Ellie’s convinced it’s a girl. Says she has a feeling.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Joel said with a wink.
The conversation turned lighter, but the tightening in your abdomen didn’t ease. You ignored it at first, brushing it off as nothing more than cramps, but the pain grew sharper. When the nausea hit, you barely managed to keep your composure.
Joel noticed. He always did.
“Y’alright?” he asked, slowing his horse to ride closer to you.
“Yeah,” you lied, trying to keep your voice steady.
But when you dismounted to sneak through an abandoned building, your steps faltered. Joel caught your arm as you leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he demanded.
“I think…” You hesitated, gasping as another sharp pain shot through you. “I think it’s happening. The baby…”
Joel’s face paled, but he quickly regained his composure. “Alright, we’re gettin’ you inside. Now.”
---
Joel guided you to an abandoned furniture store, laying you down on the closest bed he could find. His voice was calm, but you could see the panic in his eyes as he handed you his gun.
“I’m gonna get help,” he said firmly. “Ellie, Maria, Dina… they’ll be here before you know it. You just stay quiet, alright? You can do this.”
You nodded, tears streaming down your face as another contraction hit. Joel hesitated for a moment, squeezing your hand before running out the door.
Alone in the quiet, you felt the weight of the moment crash over you. The baby was coming, and there was no stopping it. With trembling hands, you removed your pants, bracing yourself as the contractions grew stronger.
It was the hardest thing you’d ever done. The pain was overwhelming, but when you finally heard the baby’s first cries, a surge of relief and joy washed over you.
“It’s a girl,” you whispered, cradling the tiny, wriggling baby to your chest. Tears of exhaustion and happiness blurred your vision as you held her close.
---
The sound of galloping hooves and hurried footsteps filled the store as Ellie, Joel, Dina, and Maria rushed in. Ellie’s eyes locked onto you immediately, her face pale with worry.
“Are you okay?” she asked, rushing to your side.
You nodded weakly, tears streaming down your face. “She’s here,” you whispered, holding the baby up for Ellie to see.
Ellie’s breath caught as she stared at the tiny bundle in your arms. Slowly, she reached out, her hands trembling as Maria helped clean the baby and swaddled her in a blanket.
When Maria handed her over, Ellie held the baby as if she were the most fragile, precious thing in the world. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked down at her daughter.
“She’s beautiful,” Ellie whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Dina and Joel stood nearby, both grinning through their tears. Joel leaned down, squeezing your shoulder. “Told you everything’d be alright,” he said softly.
You laughed weakly, leaning against him. “Guess you were right.”
As the group settled around you, cracking jokes and offering words of comfort, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and safety.
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I have phantom of the opera stuck in my head, so pls join me in the idea of a phantom steddie au
#steddie#join me in the brainrot#no details in particular just rotating phantom!eddie and christine!steve in my head#eddie trying to get steve to break away from everyones expectations while coaching him in music#steve thinking hes not anyone special although he fuckin nails performances and is overflowing with charisma#i like to think the kids are investigating the opera to see whos or whats behind all the shenanigans#also eddie dropping the chandelier on a bunch of rich people#but just the sheer eddie shenanigans#yk hed fuck with people too#like. hide in the walls and pretend to be a voice in their head#i also like to think that CCs there in the orchestra pit#whether or not they know eddie is fucking hilarious#cause to them eddie could just be Some Guy or “ya the phantom joins us sometimes when we rehearse. super chill dude”#maybe argyle doing sound checks n stuff like “oh ya#s not a ghost dude. just some guy. saw him trip on the catwalk twice yesterday“#but hes always high so noone believes him
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.
tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !
satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.
you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.
your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.
‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’
it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.
satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.
he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.
“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.
you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.
“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.
you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.
. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.
he understands why you’re feeling that way.
the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.
perhaps they need to be reminded once more.
satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.
the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”
“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.
“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”
satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.
“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.
it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.
satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.
the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.
your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.
satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.
he wants to make it up to you, somehow.
once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.
satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.
that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.
“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.
“thank you.”
it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.
your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.
“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.
“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.
you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.
sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.
“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.
without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.
the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.
his want and need for you.
satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.
“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.
he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.
“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.
his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.
“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.
your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.
you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.
the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.
satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.
“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”
your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.
your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .
you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.
your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;
“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x you#gojo x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x y/n#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fanfic#gojo fanfic
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who to call to clean up after an "accident" than your sick and twisted military boyfriend? :D (dark!ghost x dark!fem!reader, 18+)
cw: dark!reader, dark!simon, horror movie vibes, graphic depictions of character death/murder, unhealthy relationship dynamics, one slip of daddy, smut, unprotected piv, simon "spit in my mouth" riley, reader and simon are kinda psycho :D
you've been so nice to her. really nice. you've let it slide off your back whenever she doesn't do her dishes. you pretend you don't notice when she borrows your shoes from the hallway and wears them out to dinner. you hide yourself in your room when she has her awful, loud guests over, and you have never once said anything about how she takes her sweet time in the shared bathroom in the morning and makes you late 2 days a week for work.
but this? this?
she needs to keep simon's name out of her fucking mouth.
"excuse me?" you say finally. your roommate is shrugging on her jacket to leave, her purse in her hand as she types on her phone, using it as a way to not make eye-contact with you. her long nails are tapping against the screen, and it feels like fucking drip water torture. "what the fuck did you just say?"
she sighs, irritated, rolling her eyes as she keeps tapping away at the screen.
"you're so dramatic, it was just a fucking joke."
"you know, i let a lot of things slide," you laugh, humorlessly, and you cross your arms over your chest as you follow her into the kitchen. "but you need to be careful what you say."
"i don't do anything except call it like i see it," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall. "you need to just...go out more. man like that isn't gonna stay for long if you don't give him something to go for. he's bored, you know. when you have him over here all the time. and i've totally caught him peeking at me after i shower, y'know."
"well why the fuck are you wearing nothing but a towel when my boyfriend is here, anyways?" you snap. "he's trying to be polite, he's a guest. what if i wore a fucking towel when you had your guy friends over?"
she laughs, poking at the edge of her lip to fix the gloss of her pout. "trust me, honey, no one's looking at you in a towel."
you step back, a little shocked. she rolls her eyes again, sighing.
"i didn't--"
"are you kidding me?" you retort. "you're the worst fucking roommate in the world, and i put up with all your bullshit, and now you're going to go so low as to insult the way i look just to make yourself feel better?" you make your way around the kitchen island. "you don't wash your fucking dishes, you steal my fucking clothes, you're always late on your rent so i have to spot you--"
"you know what, just because i'm fucking happy, and you're not, doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!"
"i am happy, you sorry bitch!" you cry. "i'm so fucking happy, you're the only thing in my life making me constantly miserable!"
"oh, shove it up your ass, you ungrateful little shit!" she snaps. "you're just so fucking insecure and hate me so badly just because simon would rather fuck a girl like me than have to spend another minute with--"
the crack of cast iron against her head shuts her up. it dents the side of her head easily, and her face smacks against the countertop before she crumples to the floor.
it's so fast. one minute, she's yapping, high-pitched voice straining your ears. the next, she's silent.
and she won't say simon's fucking name again.
you watch with bated breath as she folds into herself, her head hitting the hardwood last, a slow puddle of blood beginning to grow under the tendrils of her hair as your eyes move to the heavy pan you're still holding in your hands.
fuck, that's a lot of blood. god, you thought she was just full of fucking air.
you drop the pan once the rush of anger leaves your chest. it thunks onto the ground, and your hands shake as you see the specks of blood that are on the back of your hands, sprinkled over the shirt you wear. it stains your bare legs, even your toes, and you don't even want to look at the spray of it along the counters.
you should be crying, you think. you should feel bad. you're trembling a little, but you think it's just the adrenaline beginning to fade and not the guilt you know is supposed to be racking your insides.
you turn your eyes back to her. her eyes are dull. she doesn't move. it's so quiet now, utterly silent, and you take a deep breath as you take in the silence that you've craved for a long while now. you make your way quietly out of the kitchen, stepping over her body before going for your phone that sits on the coffee table in front of the couch.
you keep your eyes on her as you put your phone to your ear. it rings, and you tilt your head to the side as the blood begins to spiderweb under the kitchen table.
"'ello?"
you blink, looking towards the door. you clutch your phone a little tighter to your ear.
"simon?" you say softly. "a-are...are you busy?"
he hums lowly, chuckling, "no' at the moment, swee'eart, why?" he asks. "mmm...missed y'r voice..." you close your eyes as you hear the buckle of his belt. you try not to picture your giant of a boyfriend leaning back on his worn couch and shoving his jeans low enough to fuck his fist. "tolk t'me, luv...tell me 'ow much ya miss daddy."
you clear your throat gently, willing yourself to ignore the soft squelch of what you know is his hand around his cock, to not let it distract you from what's more important. "uhm...i liked the flowers you gave me, simon. t-they were beautiful."
the sounds on the other end of the phone quiet. you hear shuffling, and then a few moments later, the clink of his car keys.
"tha' right, baby?" he asks, and you close your eyes as you hear the front door of his flat opening. he's already on the way, already coming.
"yeah," you sniffle. "really nice sunflowers."
a yellow flower. he huffs on the other end of the phone, breathing a little easier.
"good girl," he murmurs, and then the line cuts. you set the phone down, making your way back to the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. you watch as the blood continues to curl over the floor. you make no attempt to help her; you just swing your feet under you as you look at her spoiled outfit, just grateful she isn't wearing your shoes or one of your jackets. you would hate to have to throw something out that she got all dirty.
there's a curt knock at the door ten minutes later, and then it opens. simon shuts the door behind him, cracking his neck by moving it from side to side before narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip, blinking, forgetting suddenly why he is here when he looks so fucking good. he's got a sweatshirt on under his windbreaker, worn jeans tucked into his boots; you like these jeans, his ass looks incredible in them.
"wot happened?" he asks. you stand, remembering your place. your lip starts trembling, and simon's eyes soften just a little. he's wearing his balaclava, hood up over his head and jacket zipped up, shadowing any true expression on his face. his gait sounds heavy as he lets his hands out of his pockets, coming towards you. when he steps into the kitchen, his eyes dart towards your roommate who's still on the floor, laid out unnaturally just by the oven.
he lets out a low breath, clicking his tongue under the mask. you hold your breath as you wait for his reaction.
"bloody hell," simon mutters, reaching up and throwing his hood off. you wring your hands together nervously, your eyes beginning to sting with tears. you brace for the accusations, for the inevitable terror of facing the music. simon is military, for fuck's sake, why the fuck did you think turning to him would be a good idea?
"i...i-i--" you start, looking up at him, and he holds up a hand, taking the side of your face into his palm before smoothing a gloved thumb over your bottom lip. you blink in confusion, not understanding.
"'s olright, baby," he shushes you, shaking his head. "don't cry."
"simon, i--" you sputter a little, gripping his wrist gently. "i just--i couldn't do it anymore, she just--"
he pities you. maybe you can explain. maybe if you tell him a warped story of what happened, he can help you. he must know someone. he must have important friends, he must--
he uses his free hand to move his mask up over his nose, and you lean into him when he bends, kissing you warmly. your eyes flutter shut, and you shuffle closer as he kisses you sloppy, kisses you hot. you mewl as he slips his tongue into your mouth, licking over your teeth and humming low as he pulls away. his eyes are flashing.
mmm. love.
"hmm..." simon licks his lips, smiling a little. he looks over you, almost pensive, his eyes scanning over your face before he settles back on your eyes. it's tender, the way he looks at you. romantic. "let's get this off of ya."
he reaches for the large shirt you are wearing, pulling it up and over your head. he crumples it into a ball before tossing it on top of your roommate, nodding his head behind you.
it's then that you realize simon isn't going to do the noble thing. he isn't going to call the police. he isn't going to turn you in, make you explain, he seems uninterested in knowing what really happened. no, he already knows what happened. but that's not important.
his pretty, perfect girl got into a little trouble. and he's going to make this go away.
"go on, luv. take a nice shower, yeah?" simon turns you around and pushes on your back gently. you suck in a shaky breath when he fondles your ass, pulling on your panties gently. "mmm...take these off, too."
you slip your panties down your legs, handing them to him.
"they have blood on them, too?" you ask, wiping your face, and he chuckles lowly.
"nah," he shrugs, stuffing them into his back pocket after taking a little sniff. "these are just for me."
jesus fucking christ, there's really something wrong with him. there's something really, really wrong with him.
and something wrong with me.
simon looks you up and down, his eyes catching on your naked body for just a few moments before he nods his head again.
"go on," he tells you. "before i get distracted." you pause for a moment, tilting your head back a little as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts in his big hand. you bite your lip, swallowing back a heavy breath as he flicks his thumb over your nipple gently. "greatest tits 've ever seen," he mumbles, scrunching his nose under the mask before he lets you go. "yeah, go on, baby." it takes everything in you to walk away when you see him reach down with that same hand and grip his bulge through his jeans, adjusting himself as he turns back to the mess in the kitchen.
when you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear shuffling in the living room. the coffee table scraping. the couch being pushed. the rustle of the rug you have there. he grunts a little, and you hear his boots track from the kitchen back to the living room.
you turn the water on hot. you decide to take a bath, not looking at yourself in the mirror as you sink into the tub and plug the drain. you make the water scalding, and it soothes your sore muscles as you rest your cheek against the edge of the tub and stare at the door.
you're not sure how long you stay there. long enough for the water to nearly slosh over the edge of the tub and for simon to swing the bathroom door open, seemingly done with his...tasks.
he's taken his sweatshirt off. just a black t-shirt tucked into jeans, and there's a slight pant to his breaths that tell you he's exerted some energy. you notice he has his gloves still on, but before he touches you, he takes them off and tosses them into the sink.
"move over," simon mutters, starting to undress. you look up at him as he undoes the button on his pants, shucking his shirt off and into the corner before dropping his jeans. the water swishes as you sit up, and you swallow hard when simon kicks his boots and pants off, his cock hanging heavy as his mask is the last to hit the floor.
fuck, he's so pretty.
he has no regard for his size. he simply steps into the tub behind you, taking a seat. he looks comically large in your small bathtub, and you squeak a little as the water spills over the edge of the bath and wets the floor. he hums as he feels the hot water on his back. you don't say anything as his hands start to turn the water a little red. you just look up, away, at him.
you shuffle between his legs, tucking yourself into his space. you can't help but look him up and down, admiring his naked physique. he's just hot. big arms, thick thighs, sunburnt tattoos and scars cutting across his face. he hasn't shaved today, so there's some stubble along his jaw, but your eyes focus a little too much on his girthy length, heavy as it sits on his stomach and leaks a little there. his fat stomach, all solid and pudgy, such a nice place for you to rest your hands.
"you did good today," simon says finally. you look at him, and he tilts his head to the side. his approval makes your chest warm. "callin' me like tha'. wot a good girl you are."
keeping quiet on the phone is what he doesn't add out loud.
you purse your lips, trying not to keen at the praise, but it's hard not to when he reaches over and slides his hand over your shoulder, thumbing at your jaw.
"i-i didn't...didn't know what to do," you admit, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you didn't know what to do, so you called him. level-headed enough to not do something rash and call someone else, no, you called him.
"mmm...tha's wot i'm 'ere for, luv," simon soothes you. "made such a little mess..."
you close your eyes. it's sick. deranged. fuck, it feels nice.
why don't i feel anything?
"i know. i'm sorry."
"nothin' ta be sorry about."
you slump into his arms, resting your cheek on his solid chest. you can feel his cock pulsing against your tummy, and you adjust yourself in the water, straddling him as you rest your chin on his pecs and look up at him through watery eyes.
you aren't sad. no. not sad at all. simon has shown you what he will do for the you. the lengths he will go. what he'll forgive just to take care of you. he's so capable, so understanding.
sick. twisted. mine.
"then i'll just say thank you," you mumble, grinding your hips slowly. simon hums, a wicked smile coming over his scarred face. he licks over his bottom lip, big hands gripping you by the fat of your hips as you grip the edges of the tub for stability. "say thank you to my big, strong man for taking such good care of me..."
he chuckles, his eyes lowering, watching your tits sway as you fit your pussy over his length and grind down on him.
"tha' so, baby?"
you nod.
"mhm," you whine. "how can i thank you, my big boy? how can i show you how grateful i am for cleaning up after me, hmm?" you bend at the waist, kissing him wet and warm, and he hisses as you suck his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you would curse him for it, but right now it tastes so much like him, and you lick around his teeth trying to taste more of that sweet nicotine.
"fuck--such a naughty little girl..." he snickers, reaching down. you sigh when he slides his big palms over your ass, forcing you to grind slower, the tip of his cock sliding through your folds leisurely. you grip the edges of the tub tighter, pressing down to give you more leverage to grind down harder. "make such a mess, oll the time..." you gasp when he presses into you just enough, the tip breaching your entrance and forcing you to squeeze around him, your cunt trying to suck him in. "olways needin' me ta pick up afta ya..."
you giggle, sliding your hands up his chest, gripping his shoulders for leverage as you sink down onto him. he grits his teeth as you do, his eyes focused on the way his cock disappears inch by inch until you're seated down in his lap, his length kissing deep and twitching excitedly. he always feels like a teenager again whenever you fuck--like you're the first pretty girl to ever wet his cock.
you cup his cheeks finally, smoothing your thumbs under his eyes as you bring his gaze up to meet yours. you swallow hard, looking down at him.
"i-i love you, simon," you breathe. he stills underneath you, his jaw clenching as he frowns just a little. you come a little closer, nuzzling your nose against his, your thumb falling to trace the outline of his torn lip. "i should've said it a long time ago...i-i..."
"heart's beatin' out y'r chest, luv," he mutters lowly. "'s olright...'m not goin' anywhere."
it's so disgusting. you should be fucking ill. you should be scrambling to the toilet, your breakfast halfway up your throat. you should be crying, emotional, begging simon to tell the cops that it was all your fault, because it is. he should've come here and made you do the level-headed thing and confess your terrible crime.
he shouldn't be here, sitting underneath you in your tub, cock-deep inside of you after helping you commit murder and then fucking clean it all up.
"what did i do?" you gasp, sitting up. you move to get out of the tub, but simon growls, putting two firm hands on your ass and shoving you back down on his cock, making you cry. "w-what did i do? s-simon, why don't i feel bad, why am i not sorry--?!"
simon tsks, feigning comfort. he juts his bottom lip out into a pout, mocking your little cries.
"oh, luvvie, don't start cryin' now," he chuckles. "don't start pretending like y'care."
uhm...
"simon--"
"no one likes a liar."
you're still trying to pretend, and he knows this. you're still trying to act how someone normally would react. someone normal, someone who thinks rationally, would never have picked up the pan in the first place. and even if they had, they would've scrambled, cried, picked up the phone and confessed, called an ambulance as they tried to get her to start breathing again, put both hands on her chest and tried to get her wake up.
but you didn't. you watched, unnervingly calm, as she stained the hardwood with her blood. you watched as her eyes glassed over, lifeless, and you watched as her insides began to paint the floor in abstract shapes as you gave it time to spread. and not once during that time, or waiting for simon, did you think to help her.
you didn't want to help her. and you certainly didn't think she deserved to get back up. maybe she hadn't done anything quite harsh enough to deserve death in someone else's eyes. annoying, overbearing, rude.
but it's hard to feel bad when she talked about simon. when she called him by his name. when you've seen her let her towel slip when he's in her vicinity, trying to coax him into her room when you're looking away.
you should've taken one of the throwing knives that simon hides in his boot and thrown it at her then, just for that.
"we're cut from the same bloody cloth, baby," simon says, almost accusingly. you grip the edges of the tub, trying to stand again, but he cants his hips and fucks up into you, drawing a frenzied moan out of you. you reach for his shoulders as he does it again, his tongue darting out before he licks a fat stripe over your pebbled nipple. "'s olright. 's okay, luv. don't worry. don't hafta get y'r hands dirty, swee'eart, i've got it."
"but simon," you whine, but all he does is shake his head. you don't have to put on this morality act for him. you don't have to pretend that you are sorry for something that you had every right to do, you don't have to explain to him why you aren't feeling the way you should be feeling.
simon doesn't care about how you should feel. he only cares about how you actually feel.
"she was in y'r way," simon grunts. "always bein' a bloody brat." he fists your hair and brings your mouth to his, groaning as you tighten around his cock. "'ow many times did she fuck ya over, baby, hmm? 'ow many times did she steal y'r fuckin' things, come outta the loo wearin' nothin' but her fuckin' knickers, yeah? 'ow many times?"
you kiss him, frantic, digging your nails into his pecs and dragging them angrily.
yeah. fuck her. fuck what she did to me, fuck the way she behaved, fuck her stupid face and her stupid attitude and her stupid little games.
"called ya names..." he's hitting your sweet spot now, making you cry from pleasure. your pussy feels so hot, squeezing him because you know he's right, and the way he fucks this time makes you think he really knows what you are and knows exactly how to get you there. "wot a fuckin' twat. deserved every bit o' it, baby."
you meet his eyes, dark and cruel. he's still moving, still holding onto your hips and drawing out little whines, but it's different suddenly, it's more. you nod, understanding.
simon is terrible. no good. his head isn't in the right place, maybe it never has been. you wonder, briefly, if this is what he does when he's at work, if these are the things that he's used to. maybe simon has been in service too long--maybe he doesn't understand that you aren't at war here, that you can't just kill and clean up, that you aren't in the field.
"she deserved it," you whimper, and he grins, all teeth, all mean.
"tha's it."
"she was such a bitch."
"fuckin' right."
"she got what was coming for her."
"nnghhh--fuck, baby, gonna make me fuckin' cum, tolkin' like tha'," he hisses. you practically smack him as you grab onto his scarred face, gritting your teeth as you glare down at him. his lips part, and you spit in his mouth as he fucks up into you, thighs hitting your ass with a wet smack that makes your head spin.
"and i'll get rid of the next bitch that so much as looks your way, simon."
the kiss is searing. hot, blinding, white noise fills your ears as he cums with you, stuffing you full as he cums hard, a pained groan leaving him as he collapses against the porcelain tub with a harsh thud. you follow him, chasing after him, kissing him between heavy breaths as you don't make any effort to move off of him. when simon opens his eyes, he can't help but smile.
he's never seen his reflection without a mirror.
#awwwwwwwwww thanks for taking care of me pookie#thanks for indulging my terrible mind and telling me its okay ;)#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon thoughts#dark!ghost#dark!simon
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simon loves it when you aren't wearing any panties under your loose pajama shorts.
cw — mild degradation, p in v.
it was done very much intentionally at first. you just wanted to see if he’d even notice you not wearing anything under your shorts. just a little fun idea, right?
unbeknownst to you, simon had already noticed it the very minute you walked into the bedroom. he just pretended to be oblivious, enjoying your subtle yet desperate attempts to rile him up a little too much — the way you tried to spread your legs a little too much.
you were seated cross-legged in front of him on the bed, playing on your phone while his hand was lazily caressing your head, eyes fixated on the way your loose shorts were pushed a bit aside, the gap between the cloth and your thighs clearly showing a glimpse of your cunt, the subtle glisten from the light making his lips twitch up slightly. you were fucking wet.
“pretty cunt’s staring at me, love.” he said in the most nonchalant way possible, causing your attention to snap away from your phone and fall onto him, his words causing you to squeak in embarrassment. the sudden wave of shyness made you nibble on your bottom lip in confusion, since it was you who had come up with this idea in the first place.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about…” you mumbled under your breath, pretending to be dumb. maybe a bit too dumb.
“not wearin’ any panties today, eh? dirty fucking girl.” he scoffed playfully and leaned forward, his large rough hands gripping onto the soft plush of your thighs a bit tight, causing you to let out a quiet whimper.
“wanted to get your attention…”
“you always have my attention.” he mumbled more gently this time, his gruff voice causing your stomach to be flooded with butterflies while his lips pressed soft pecks on your cheek, earning bubbly giggles from you.
his callused fingers pushed your loose shorts to the side with ease, not bothering to take them off while having enough room to look at your cunt, raising his brows at the slick that was coating you.
“what got you so riled up?”
“you…” your hips twitched instinctively once you felt his fingertips grazing up and down your cunt, gathering up all the wetness before messily smearing it on your puffy folds and clit.
you could feel it getting sticky in between your legs, cheeks and ears all heated up while your chest gently rose and fell.
“you’re such a dirty little thing. s’only fair for me to make you messier, right?” he asked, earning an embarrassingly quick nod from you.
simon was quick to push you on your back, his hands gripping your legs and pushing them apart, your body shuddering once you felt the cool air caressing your sweet pussy, one hand of his reaching to tug down his sweatpants alongside his briefs, his girthy cock springing free from the clothes, already hardening up.
“look at what you do to me. flauntin’ your pussy ‘round like that. just a needy little thing.” he huffed, his breathy voice doing nothing to hide the desperation laced in his actions.
“si… i—” your words were cut short by the swollen tip of his cock rubbing against the clit gently, as if giving it pretty kisses, the soft fabric of your pushed aside shorts gently rubbing against his length, eliciting a soft moan from your lips while your hips bucked forward, seeking more friction.
“hush. gonna give you what you were looking for so badly.” a sweet grin twitched on his lips, his cock slowly pushing into your tight cunt, your walls instantly clinging onto his length and sucking him in, causing a grunt to leave his lips.
“fuck— patience, love.” his hands gently eased your legs up his shoulders, pulling you into him before he delivered a light, gentle slap on your twitchy hard clit, earning a whine from you.
“si!” your eyes started getting glossy with pleasure, feeling his cock tenderly rubbing against your spongy spots inside while he thrusted in and out of your cunt at a gentle pace, your legs trembling on his shoulders, trying not to get a cramp, your fingers clinging onto the fabric of his shirt tight.
“so pretty f’me…” he groaned in between his thrusts, his hands moving to lovingly caressing your thighs, kneading the plush, your mind fuzzy with pleasure while those familiar tight knots began forming in your stomach, indicating your impending orgasm.
the night resulted in your cunt messily dripping with his thick cum, your poor shorts being completely ruined, alongside the sheets. he better clean it all up.
#my period just ended but i feel like i'm ovulating already#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#cod smut#call of duty#rurufic
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“You’re such a fucking brat.”
“Fuck you… mmph!”
Sylus chuckled lowly at you attempting to muffle your voice.
It always started with a little bit of an argument.
It’s not that you two didn’t get along; it’s just that you didn’t always get along. Arguably because of him.
For whatever fucking reason, Sylus loved to tease you and get under your skin.
Whether this be by stealing the glasses right off your face and holding them high above your head, even going as far as to suspend them in air with his evol, or generally just poking and prodding at you verbally until you snapped; he got an odd kick out of pissing you off.
And then turning around and acting as if you were the unreasonable one.
You often pondered what his redeemable traits were, if he had any. Nonetheless you made a deal, and it would hurt your pride not to fulfill it.
Annoying as he was, he was stupidly handsome, and his deep voice and tantalizing stature sent chills down your spine.
Sometimes you liked it when he bullied you. Just a little bit… not a lot.
Especially when it progressed on to a charged type of banter.
“Watch your mouth, kitten.” He’d pretend to warn you ever so sternly. As if his cock wasn’t aching in his pants at your defiance.
He found you so hot when you got like this.
“Or what, Sylus? What are you gonna do?” And you’d egg him on every single time.
Then he’d get up, walk over to you, grab your neck and slam you into the wall behind you.
He’d grip the sides of your neck harshly and force you to look up at him, which made your glasses shift.
“You’re aching for it that bad, huh? Maybe you’re useless at seducing me, because this seems to be the only way you know how to get me to fuck you.”
You looked up at a him with hooded eyes, your hands gripping arm he was using to choke you.
Sylus wasn’t oblivious to how you were trying to hide how pleased you were with yourself.
He knew you loved it as much as him. Riling each other up like this. Matching each others energy.
“Fucking hell,” He threw his head back, feeling his cock throb at just the look you were giving him. “Open.”
You did exactly as he said, not breaking eye contact as you opened your mouth for him.
Sylus wasted no time in moving the hand around your neck and running his thumb over your lips and tongue before spitting in your mouth.
“Swallow.”
You did exactly as he said, not missing the glint in his eye and the palpable bulge in his pants as he watched you.
“Say you liked it.”
“I liked it, Sylus. Please give me more.”
“You’re such a dirty little bitch.” He put his hand over his face, trying to hide his smile.
Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at how much he was clearly enjoying this and how you were enjoying playing into him, you take the hand he put over his face and move it to the back of your head as you get on your knees.
You couldn’t mistake how wet you were, annoying and hurtful to your pride as it was.
This dynamic was so invigorating, and you were so attracted to him.
Once again not breaking eye contact, you licked the expanse of his hard on through his black slacks, sending a shiver down his spine.
“That’s a good girl. Keep going, just like that.” He breathed out.
Unbuttoning his pants, you made quick work of taking his cock out.
That was another thing about him… his size was annoyingly impressive.
His dick was thick and lengthy, and he knew exactly how to use it. That’s why you even bothered entertaining his fuckery in the first place.
“Want me to fuck your mouth?”
You hummed, more eager to have his dick inside of you than anything.
“I think I want to fuck you first,” He quickly reached down and grabbed your arm, pulling you up. “Turn around.”
It was times like this you were sure Sylus had a sixth sense for you and your desires.
You once again did exactly as you were told, making quick work of your mini skirt and the panties you were wearing underneath.
Pulling your skirt up and pushing your panties to the side, you reached back between your legs for his cock, making him chuckle.
“So eager,” He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, making you moan lightly. “You want it that bad?”
You huffed. Your attitude returning due to him fucking around again.
“Sylus for fucks sake,” You whipped your head around to look at him, staring at him pointedly. “Get the fuck on with it already!”
“You were so nice earlier,” He began to push the tip inside you before pulling out, teasing you as he loves to do. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore.”
“Sylus-”
“Alright alright I’ll give you what you want.”
He finally pushed his entire cock into you, making your jaw drop.
Fuck it was so big. It was like he was in your guts.
“Oh… my god…” You whimpered, feeling your knees buckle.
Grabbing you by the waist, Sylus held you up.
“Easy there sweetie,” You practically could hear the smirk in his voice. “We barely started.”
“Shut up…!”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it, look how tough you were trying to act like his dick wasn’t making your knees weak.
He leaned forward, lips grazing your ear as he spoke, “Allow me to help you out.”
Taking both your hands in his, he bent you forward, pulling your arms up behind you and holding your wrists together with one hand.
You moaned at how deep he was in you in this position.
“Like that?” He ground his dick into you lightly, making you gasp. “Is that good?”
“Yesss Sylus,” You moaned out. “So good!”
That’s all it took for him to start fucking you in earnest.
Moans spilled from your lips with every thrust uncontrollably, the pleasure of him pounding into you was undeniable.
“So fucking tight, my god.” Sylus threw his head back and groaned.
He was just as loud in bed as you, he truly had no shame in his game in any aspect.
“You’re such a fucking slut you know that?” He grunted through clenched teeth.
“Yes… right there!” You practically screamed as he slammed right into your g-spot.
“Here?” He started fucking you even harder, aiming for that spot in specific.
Your mouth fell open into a silent gasp as your eyes rolled back.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer his question.
The pleasure make your clench down on him desperately, making him groan loudly.
“Keep doing that and you’ll make me cum.”
“Inside.” You babbled mindlessly, trying desperately to get your words out.
“What was that?” He smirked, using your arms as leverage to pull you back into his thrusts. “Couldn’t understand you.”
“Need you… to cum inside… Sylus!”
“Hm?”
You felt your orgasm impending as he continued to fuck into that one spot that made your vision go white.
You knew you weren’t gonna last much longer.
“Please please cum inside me!”
Sylus knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. Picking up the pace of his brutal thrusts, he felt that familiar knot in his abdomen tightening.
“Cumming… I’m cumming!”
He barely had time to respond before you were cumming all over his cock, squeezing him even tighter than before.
“Fuck…”
He felt your spend dripping down his balls every time he thrusted back into you.
Feeling his own orgasm quickly approaching, he thrust deep inside of you.
Moaning right in your ear, he came deep inside of you, feeling his cock twitch and throb with every spurt of thick cum.
It was so utterly satisfying to the both of you.
Sylus observed the milky white ring around his cock and he weakly thrust in and out of you, riding out his orgasm.
A content silence fell over the both of you.
That is, of course, until Sylus decided to ruin it.
“You’re so much cuter when you’re quiet, sweetie.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lnds sylus#lads sylus#sylus x reader#l&ds sylus#sylus smut#sylus x you#l&ds smut#love and deepspace imagines#love and deepspace#lnds smut
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everything for your golden touch.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: fem!reader (reader is called good girl), slight restraint, new kink discovery, unprotected sex. smut - MINORS DNI.
synopsis: you didn't know how to tell minho you wanted him to pin your wrists down and ruin you.
you love minho. you love every single thing about him, from the freakish facial expressions that he makes when he wants to annoy you to the soft sound of his voice when he’s talking to his cats. you loved him so fierce that you ached with it, the knowledge that he is yours inflating your head to the point of almost bursting.
you loved having sex with him almost as much as you loved loving him. you craved the way he would untangle your body with his fingers, the dark and twisted way his eyes would bore into yours as he slid into you, the near animalistic way he would drive into you when he was close to his high.
and yet, your greedy little mind couldn’t help but want something else. despite the love and care and attention he gave you so freely, you held this small bundle of disappointment deep inside of you, locked away and begging to be set free:
you wanted him to pin your wrists down - to the wall, to the bed, behind your back, anything. you wanted to see the veins in his hand bulge from holding you down, you wanted bruises painted on your skin for days that you could look at as evidence of his passion for you. you wanted to be rendered immobile, you wanted to thrash around with no chance of escape
you think about it more frequently than what is probably normal; when you try to not think about you end up thinking about it more, and it turns into this vicious cycle that you can’t leave. in bed is one thing, but daydreaming in grocery stores? when you’re out at dinner with your friends? even now, when you’re sitting with his head in your lap watching a movie?
in truth, this one wasn’t your fault, really. one minute you were watching the two leads dance around each other in a frustratingly awkward flirtation and the next they had peeled each others’ clothes off and were engaging in some heavy petting that you had to admit was a tad too much. usually when corny sex scenes took place during movies you watched together, you both laughed about it, giggling at how unrealistic it was. but this one…
the man takes both of her wrists in one hand and presses them to the mattress above her head and she moans, and despite how pornographically fake it sounded you still found yourself pressing your legs together just slightly. minho’s head shifts with the movement and he huffs, fidgeting a bit before settling back down.
the camera pans to the woman’s wrists, and you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around nothing, an embarrassing gush of wetness seeping out of you. you haven’t been turned on this quickly by something other than minho’s lips in so long and you wish you could hide your face away from him.
“he’s not even pressing that hard, she could get free so easily,” minho snarks, complimenting his words with a bark of laughter before looking up at you for a response.
he doesn’t go to the gym like you do, is what you would likely say if this wasn’t affecting you the way it was. she’s pretending to stroke his male ego.
“yeah,” you say instead, and it comes out shakier than you wanted it to. he notices, of course he does, and before you could brush it off he sits up and scrutinizes you with narrowed eyes.
“are you-” he cuts himself off, pausing to look down at your lap and back up to your eyes. “are you turned on right now?”
“shut up,” you drop your hands to your lap in an effort to cover up something invisible, something that he clearly already knew about.
“don’t hide from me,” he teases, taking one of your wrists into his hand to move it away from your lap. “you’re turned on by a cheesy porno scene, this is so funny.”
“it’s not that,” you try to defend yourself when he bursts into delighted laughter. you try and move your hand out of his grip, but he keeps it strong, and that makes the pulsing between your legs even worse.
he notices, of course he does. he notices everything about you, whether you like it or not.
“oh,” he breathes out, eyes wide and mouth dropped open, his tongue poking out to lick at his bottom lip. you can see the wheels turning in his head as he arrives at the answer to a question you didn’t want him to ask.
“let’s just go back to the movie, okay?” you tug again at your hand but he doesn’t budge. his eyes are transfixed on the way his fingers look wrapped around the delicate skin of your wrist.
“you want me to do this?” he breathes out, taking your hand and leading it up to the back of the couch, right by your head. he positions your hand in place delicately before pressing down, so far that you can feel your heartbeat thrumming in your fingertips.
“god, yes,” you moan out, too far past being embarrassed to hold anything back. you can feel each one of his fingers pressing into your skin, and you buck your hips up into him when he moves to slide a knee in between your legs.
“how long have you been holding this back from me, hmm?” he asks, leaning forward so that his words glide right against your ear. he presses a kiss to the top of your jaw before pulling back a bit.
“wasn’t holding it back,” you gasp out as he pins your other wrist to the opposite side of your head, trapping you in place.
“i think you were,” he brushes his lips against yours and you try and chase him when he moves back but you can’t with the way he’s holding you back.
he guides you up, his grip still strong on your wrists, and oh. he’s walking you to the bedroom with your wrists trapped in his grip and this is something you hadn't ever imagined - it was somehow better.
you move as if in a daze, the air around you moving away like syrup as he pushes you into the mattress underneath him. everything was happening too quickly, not fast enough, just right in the space and time he’s given you.
he releases your wrists so he can undress himself, and you already miss the warm weight of him on you as if you were missing a limb.
he doesn’t make you wait too long, climbing over you with a predatory look in his eyes, pressing just enough of his weight onto your body to make your breath catch in your throat.
“my pretty girl wants to be held down, doesn’t she?” he teases, his voice deep against your skin as he trails his fingers against the veins on your wrists.
“ngh, min,” is all you can let out, all the thoughts leaving your head with every touch of his fingers on you. he nuzzles his nose into your neck, an impossibly sweet gesture that makes you relax into a boneless puddle of spilled bones on the mattress.
“i’ll always give you what you want,” he yanks your hands up above your head in one split second, a wicked grin on his face as he crosses them and pins them to the pillows. his other hand trails down to the waistband of your shorts, teasing them against the elastic before creeping further down.
you’re already so turned on, so close to the edge that the first brush of his fingers against your clit makes you jump underneath him. your hands start to move to wrap around his back, wanting to hold him even closer to you, but you can’t. you let out a dry sob, so overwhelmed with how this was impossibly good, how such simple actions from him effected you so intensely. this was so much more than you could ever have imagined in the darkest parts of your head.
his fingers pause on your skin and he looks up at you with alarm, an are you okay? at the edge of his tongue.
“off,” you say before he could, wriggling your hips and hoping he would understand.
“okay, baby,” he does, of course he does. he helps you kick off your shorts and panties, and it’s a little bit of an awkward affair but neither of you could think to care about that. every bit of his teasing from earlier was gone, the reactions he pulled from you making him desperate to do it over and over just to hear the way you gasped so prettily around his name.
his hand flies back to your cunt, keeping your wrists secured above your head as he rubs circles around your clit over and over until you’re shaking apart under him. your hips buck up when you come and he works you through it, finally stopping when you start to whine in sensitivity.
he lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hand, latching his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss that leaves you panting into his mouth. you leave your hands where he had kept them, still crossed over your head, and when he notices he groans at the sight.
“you’re so hot,” he says reverently, the possessiveness in his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “you’re so good, my good girl, all mine.”
“yes, god, i’m yours-”, he doesn’t let you finish, flipping you over onto your stomach so quickly that you felt weightless. he paints himself onto your back and you can feel how hard he is, his cock brushing against your thighs. he takes your wrists in his hands again and twists them to rest at your lower back, securing them in his hold.
he ruts into the space between your thighs once, twice, three times before positioning himself at your entrance and burying himself inside of you. you’re so wet that the slide is almost too easy, he fits himself into you like he was made to be there always. he stays there for a moment, nosing at the back of your head before drawing out and snapping his hips forward so quickly that you can hear his thighs hitting your ass.
“ah!” you cry out, the aftershocks of your previous orgasm giving away to the feeling of him gliding in and out of you. you feel so impossibly small like this, pressed underneath him and unable to move - not that you would want to if you could.
he keeps you restrained under him as he drives into you, ignoring the way your hands clench and unclench into fists every time he hits that spot deep inside of you that makes your entire body sing with pleasure.
he presses wet kisses to the back of your neck, the side of your ear, the crown of your head as he fucks you; the only sounds echoing through the room are his breathless pants and the little ah-ah-ah’s you let escape into the pillow under you.
you come together, the rhythmic squeezing of his hand around your wrists and your cunt around his cock creating the perfect rhythm for both of you to ride until climax. he stays buried inside of you for a moment, releasing your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours instead.
when he pulls out to collapse on his back next to you, you whine a bit, and he shushes you and pulls you into his chest. he’s still catching his breath and you can hear his hummingbird heartbeat under your ear as he tilts his head down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“why didn’t you tell me this was something you wanted to do?” he asks, trailing his fingers through your hair.
“i didn’t want you to think i wasn’t satisfied with what we do already,” you mumble, addressing his chest more than him. “because i am, truly.”
“baby, you don’t need to be afraid to tell me these things,” he soothes, his voice so soft in the night air. “i can’t say this was something i’ve thought about before, but i very much enjoyed it. we discovered this together. i want to keep discovering things with you.”
“will you stop being so emotionally intelligent all the time?” you slap his chest, a light thing, but he grabs your wrist in his hand to stop you from doing it again anyways. there’s redness there from the way he had been gripping it and he rubs his thumb against your skin to soothe it; even so, you hope you can see the marks of his fingertips there tomorrow.
“you wouldn’t want me any other way.”
#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagines#lee know smut#lee minho smut#lee know imagines#lee know x reader#lee know skz#lee know x y/n
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𝟐𝟐:𝟓𝟎𝐏𝐌 - 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔
Title: Say Yes
Summary: The first time Rindou asks you on a date, you reject him, thinking he's going to break your heart. Lucky for you, he's willing to prove why you should say yes to him.
cw: fem!reader, some mentions of insecurities, Rin calls you princess, Ran makes an appearance. But that's it! Reblogs appreciated!
You think it’s a joke the first time Haitani Rindou asks you on a date. He’s a Haitani after all, and you’re under no illusions about what that means for you and all the ways he could hurt you if you let him. Creative ways, that you’re convinced you could never recover from in the near future, the pieces of yourself you would spend years putting back together.
So you don’t. You walk away, reject him politely with a smile and an incline of your head, and you can almost imagine that he has a girl lined up the next day to ask as a quick replacement of you because He’s a Haitani after all, and he has a reputation that means more than either of your hurt feelings.
Rindou pretends he isn’t crestfallen, the drop of his small and placid smile that does little to hide the avid redness of his cheeks is all too apparent when you purse your lips. His eyebrows shoot up and he coughs, or rather pretends to, into his hand and steps back, the heat on his neck crawling along the slope of his back.
‘You’re….. You’re saying no?’ He asks, as if he doesn’t quite get it, because he hasn’t prepared for this eventuality, for going home to Ran to break the news, as if he’s a schoolboy with a crush, dragging his feet with dejection.
‘I am, I’m sorry Rin.’ A shake of your head, a feeling of deep nausea and a regret that holds the weight of years of friendship, now potentially wasted.
‘Oh.’ He kicks at the gravel, the blue silk of his hair falling in waves over the smooth arc of his forehead, and you resist the urge at a time like this, to sweep it back. ‘Can I ask why?’
No, you want to say, the word caught on the wind whipping through your hair. It’ll only make it harder. Harder to look forward, harder to resist, harder to keep at your word.
‘You’re Rindou Haitani.’ As if it’s an explanation in itself, as if it assuages the guilt and the longing and gets the point across, that he could never not hurt you in any way you could recover from. ‘I don’t think you’d be happy with me.’
You think it’s easier to lie, to pretend that the burden that comes from knowing you is too much for any one person to bear, especially when that person is your best friend, instead of the fact that the uncertainty of his life is too much for you in turn. That there could be a day far or perhaps not so far, into the future where the uncertainty becomes the certainty of his death, where he does not come back at all.
‘You don’t know that,’ he says, fierce determination blazing in his eyes, the slight tremor of his voice. He thinks he could be happy with you, or content at the very least. Maybe you could watch as he climbed to the top with Ran, the Doll at his side, his partner in all things. He’s convinced he has it all planned out perfectly, the house, the marriage, the kids you’ll have, even what colour you’ll paint the walls, because despite himself, Haitani Rindou is meticulous in all things concerning you.
You tilt your head to the side, a knowing smile playing on your lips that you hope hides how much it pains you to break him like this, to break yourself along with him, cracks in the eggshell of your friendship you hope can be repaired in time. ‘I do Rin. You’re a Haitani, you’re used to the life.’
He knows it’s an explanation and he doesn’t begrudge you for it, for the way you step back and keep your distance, your bottom lip pulled back as you bite it nervously, a hand playing with the ends of your hair as he knows you’re prone to doing. He wants to be angry, wants to rage at you, throw all the excuses he thinks will suffice for coming to terms with the rejection, vitriol and jealousy and bitterness all curling together on his tongue. He swallows, the bump of his smooth throat sliding under the blue scarf that kisses at the dip of his chin and pushes it down. Down. Down. Tucks it safely in the pit of his stomach where it can ruminate till he’s let off the steam that prickling at the skin on his neck.
‘I see.’ He pulls back the flowers, scrunching the plastic wrapping in his white knuckles behind his back, the burn of shame and regret licking at his cheeks, hot enough to instantly melt the snow that sits on the cut of his cheekbones. ‘Can we still be friends?’
It aches somewhere, when you swallow against the tide of anxiety in your chest, a vice that clamps down on your tongue, hot and heavy and weighted with longing. You wonder how easy it would be to let yourself be swept away by him, the beautiful fullness of his laugh, the smile that’s reserved for you, quick and easy and big, all engulfing even, to let yourself run along with him as he climbed to the top, hand in unlovable hand.
You soften, reach for him with one gloved hand, finding his fiddling with a button on his coat and brush your thumb across his knuckles, swinging it this way and that, like you have not broken his heart, like you are nothing more than a single passing memory. ‘Of course we can. We’re best friends Rin, nothing will ever change that. If you still want me that is.’
‘I do.’
‘Even now?’
He takes your hand, as if it’s a response and knowing that despite it all, his big words, he’ll wallow in self pity, the heat of your rejection biting at his chest, he’ll come to terms with it in his own way. It is all his fault, and the wind that cuts across his cold lips seems to chant with shame at him for it, for the fickleness of his feelings, for straying far from what he knows.
But it happens. You swing back into life and the easiness of your friendship that has always permeated the comfort between you remains, albeit hardened now, by what Rindou thinks are his one-sided feelings. He remains as steadfast in his efforts as usual, propelled more so now by the fact that he feels he must win you over, to make up for the duplicity of his feelings.
You think it’s cute that he is less than subtle with his affections now that they are out in the open. The chocolates that sit at the table when you return home, a bar of chocolate orange, a note on a yellow post-it, a heart and a terribly drawn sun that tells you enough, the trinkets and gifts that are somehow discreetly placed around your apartment, necklaces here and there, earrings, new books you hadn’t spoken about to anyone that wasn’t him and it burns you with self-loathing that despite yourself, you cannot let him go without peeling yourself open at the same time.
The regret is acid pooling in your stomach.
The same regret and shame that tickles your throat when you reach for the phone at night, and your thumb finds his name with a moon and a heart, the grainy picture of him sleeping with his mouth parted, blond silken hair clinging to his forehead, to his shirt. He rolls over in bed, hears the first sniffle, cut through by a crack in the signal, and bounds from the door, keys in one hand, his jacket only half-slung, whipping in the wind as he races to your apartment.
'Princess?’ It’s uncertain, halted, hesitant even, as he slides open the bathroom door, the ends of his hair wet with rain, glasses foggy and hands clammy with the chill of the wind.
‘Rin?’ You look up, eyes red-rimmed, the wad of wet tissue in your hands falling apart.
And Rindou knows, of course he does, what your kind of bravery looks like. You've been sitting on the floor crying, the tears fast and free flowing and salty on your cracked cheeks and he doesn't judge, he knows this is you being brave, he knows he has no right to judge what your kind of brave looks like, the way in which you piece yourself back together.
So he holds you, one hand on the small of your back, the other tucking the hair behind your ear as you hiccup and the drool slips from your dry lips. He holds you, and holds you and holds you and rocks you with his eyes fluttering shut, and perhaps your hair will get caught on the thin screws of his glasses, but you don't care right now. All that matters is that he makes you feel less pathetic, less like you're falling apart on the cold bathroom tiles of your shabby house.
‘It’s okay,’ he says and you almost believe it, almost believe he can put you back together with his lithe skilled fingers, trace the cuts along your heart with tenderness and paint them gold again.
You love that he waits it out, waits for it to pass, the cloudy storm that ends with you on his chest, softly snoring, your tears dried on cheeks that feel taut and tightened with the line of silvery drool slipping between your parted lips, mascara tracks, that have found a home on the soft grey of his shirt.
‘Let’s get you into bed yeah?’ He whispers to the tiles, to you now slumped against him, the creases of your pajamas pressed into his side and carries you to bed, slipping in beside you, curling your hair around his fingers, your ribs under his hands, heartbeat pulsing against his skin. He hardly blames you for it, the rejection that’s weeks in the past. Part of him almost thanks you, for protecting yourself from him, from all the danger and blood and death that comes with him. Like you said, he is used to the life.
You love that when you wake, he is that much softer with you, a hand on your back as you pad to the bathroom, to the kitchen, the coffee hot, the croissants and pastries fresh, a wordless kiss to your temple, fresh clothes and towels, the bathroom clean of the wads of tissue that bare witness to your moments. He never mentions it, but kisses you again, just shy of your mouth, the dip of your chin soft under his lips when he sees you off for work again.
‘Be safe okay? For me?’
Because he knows you’re capable, knows you’re strong, knows you are his weakness in a way nothing else is, knows that if something happened to you, you’d take a bigger part of him than he could ever take of you. Or so he thinks.
‘I will. You should be safe too.’
Because you know he’s capable, know he’s strong, know he is your weakness in a way nothing else is, know that if something happened to him, he’d take a bigger part of you than you could ever take of him. Or so you think.
You love that he comes back, time and time again. After every fight, every argument, every word of vitriol spewed back and forth, hateful words thrown with negligence and jealousy, embittered feelings you know deep down come from love, he comes back to you.
‘Princess?’ He says, and waits on the other side of the door in the rain, the film of his glasses now foggy with condensation, ends of his hair clinging to the exposed goosebumps breaking out on his neck, the grey sweatpants now a darker shade of charcoal from where he has slugged through the storm to get to you, his first priority always.
‘What do you want?’ It comes out harsher than intended, the bite of your still-fresh and ripened anger cutting at your tone. It hurts, it always does when it comes from him, the arguments that are wrapped in love, care, the attention he could give to anyone but chooses to give to you, and the regret that boils in your stomach when you realize that fact.
‘I want us to talk.’ Proactive as ever, because the option to find solace anywhere else, with another girl even, has never occurred to him. Because he loves you, and even if the sentiment isn’t shared, he thinks he can love you enough for the both of you.
‘I don’t want to talk to you right now.’ But you push open the door, hand him a towel, and touch his cold and pallid cheek, because the promise of seeing him, in all your pain and bitterness, hurts less than not.
‘Not an option,’ he says and holds you, cold lips that brush just shy of the hot pulsing pressure point of your neck, warmed by the constancy of you. He smells of petrol, metal, the cold chill of winter, and against what you assume is your better judgement, you find warmth in the crook of his shoulder, the warm swell of his chest and arms that instinctively come around you, pressing your hips to his.
It would be easy, to give into the thrill for a night, to let yourself forget, reach out to him and grab at the promise, however temporary, for the risk of tasting him in all the ways you’ve imagined you can. You know he tastes of strawberries, tastes of the night and the moon, sweet and dangerous and warm, familiar and mysterious at once.
You tell yourself, you tell Ran, he is just like this, that Rindou for all his brutality, for all the rough edges sharp enough to cut, for all the barricades smoothed down by time, he is just kind, he is just loving, he is just like that.
‘I thought you’d have known him better than that by now.’ And Ran sighs in that way older siblings do, half exhausted, half fond, and all pride in his Brother. ‘Rin doesn’t do things for anyone else.’
It changes at some point.
Some point when you wake before him, nestled into his side, the warm breath from his parted lips lifting the hair now pressed against the pillow, an eyelash dancing on the perfect curve of his cheek. He looks best like this. Unguarded, the frown that usually graces the slope of his forehead now smooth, the bridge of his nose rubbing at the cotton of your shared pillow, and the soft blue of his hair resting on the sharp line of his jaw.
You press a tiny kiss to his collarbone, trapping him between your legs, his hands resting on your hips that press flush against his.
‘Watching people sleep is creepy y’know.’ His voice is rough and broken by the sluggishness of sleep and you can hear the smirk in it, the lazy languid curve of his lips that never fails to make the heat rise to your neck.
‘You do it all the time.’ A whisper that kisses at his clavicle, eliciting a shiver that rolls along his spine, the perfect bones and muscles flexing under your touch.
‘S’different. You’re pretty.’
‘So are you. Really pretty Rin.’
‘Think so?’
‘Don’t fish for compliments with me, that’s shameful.’ You jab lightly at his side, the smile threatening to break out across your lips now peaking through with full force. The sun that cuts across his cheek rests on the swell of his bare shoulder, the black ink that whirls along the flexing tendon of his arm soaking up the light. This is him, your Rindou. Soaking up the light as if it belongs to him, because it does, because everything does, because you would hand him the world if he so much as looked at it.
He laughs, a throaty chuckle that reverberates against your chest, dangerously, achingly close, a flimsy t-shirt away. ‘You’re too smart, my smartest girl.’ And buries his lips against the warm juncture of your collarbones.
‘And Rin?’ You ignore the way your voice wavers, the way it threatens to pull you back into what you know, the safety of your enclosed familiarity, the trapped bird looking out to freedom.
‘Mhm?’
A beat, prolonged, heady and weighted with love, years and memories. ‘I think I’m ready.’
‘For?’
‘To say yes.’ The pressure aches in your chest, the courage is a vibrating pulse in your blood. This is it, this is the deep breath and the plunge.
It’s strangely exhilarating to let go of it, the build-up of weeks of longing, of clutching onto his stomach as you bury your face against the broad swell of his back, muttering his name in your sleep, his lips only a breath away, a singular moment of decision away.
His eyes snap open, his hands pulling back instinctively from your hips to cup at your jaw, eyes narrowed, glowing with anticipatory longing, dull with the shimmer of sleep. ‘You mean it? That’s not a joke? If it’s a joke-’
You shake your head adamantly, his palms rough against the curl of your cheek. ‘Not a joke. I’m sorry, my indecision hurt you. I think I was afraid.’ This last part is broken, snapped into a whisper that curls along your tongue.
It had been true, it had always been true. Because he’s Haitani Rindou, and you know he could break you, snap you in half, shred the pieces of you and spit you out, that you would have to trust him not to.
‘No, no Princess, don't ever apologise for that. You really mean this though?’ Damn him for the shake of his voice, for the wobble of it as he closes the distance between you.
‘I do.’
‘You want this? You want …me?’ He knows it’s meticulous, extreme, that he must only bridge the gap to find his answer. But he has spent so long, nights reaching through the darkness for your warmth, a hand moving across the cold bed, looking for the space where he thinks you ought to be, to not do it right this time.
‘Yes.’
He deliberates, searches your eyes, for the genuineness he loves in you, for the openness, for the love he has craved and never asked for, for what you have given to someone like him so freely.
‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks, and his thumb brushes against your lips, against the softened pout, the dip in your chin that slices the sunlight in half as it spills over his shoulder.
Your heart smashes against your ribs, knocks the air from you so completely that your pulse rings in your head. You think this is the point you take the leap, jump into the unknown, knowing you’ll be caught either way by him, knowing he will catch you every time you fall. It's conscious, a decision weeks or months in the making, a step off the edge, the wind rushing at you as you fall.
So you do it.
You say yes.
And he kisses you. And kisses you. And kisses you.
a/n happy birthday to the boy himself, sorry this is a little late I did try to be earlier i've been slumped w work and stuff but I wanted to get this one out there. a kiss for the wonderful boy
taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @snakegentleman @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @ranscutedoll @qiiuusoup-xo @hoetani @sinfulseashell @burnishedcrown @nikokopuffs @mitsuwuyaa @haruwuchiyoo @mochimiyaas @bertholdts--butt @theaonlax @blackfire2013 @wotakuhime @severellamahottub @stargirlstabber @intheafterall
#tokyo revengers#tokyorev x reader#rindou haitani#rindou x reader#tokyo rev#tokyo revengers x reader
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# tsukishima kei - eyes don't lie
a/n: as @moonswolfie said, this man has me wrapped around his finger, so here's another tsukki fic^^ i wanted to post it earlier, but bcs of school i sadly wasn't able to do that
summary: tsukishima definitely isn't jealous. or is he?
warnings: none
tsukishima's eyes were always glued to you.
his world revolved around you ever since you were little. although distant and dry at first, tsukishima seemed to take keen interest in your person almost immediately. he was lucky enough to end up in the same high school and class as you, even more lucky when he found a handwritten love letter in his locker, the writing obviously yours.
his eyes would glint whenever they landed on your frame, his lips always curving into a small, barely noticeable smile. yet this time, his look was completely different.
he looked annoyed, almost mad as he stood in the corner, his back against the wall as he carefully scanned the situation. the music was quite loud at the party, the house spacious enough to fit too many people for tsukishima's liking. it wasn't his party, of course; if it were up to him, he wouldn't be here in the first place. but something about your sweet, slightly pouty face while you asked him to accompany you was enough to convince him.
and now he was left watching as none other than kuroo tetsurou shamelessly flirted with you, talking and laughing at the other end of the room.
he seemed so irritated he didn't even notice his best friend standing right beside him, the freckled boy trying to contain his laughter upon seeing tsukishima's expression.
'ah, tsukki, you look even more grumpy than usual.' yamaguchi said, a small giggle leaving his mouth when his friend turned to face him, his expression so funny he couldn't contain his laughter anymore. 'i've never seen you so jealous.'
'i am not jealous.'
'right, and my name's hinata shoyo.'
tsukishima rolled his eyes, well aware that yamaguchi was, in fact, right. he was jealous beyond belief, almost to the point of making his blood boil. but it wasn't without its reasons.
you were beautiful, and not only in his eyes. many people from your high school, as well as outside of it, found you attractive, and due to this specific factor, tsukishima was afraid of someone swooping in and taking you away from him. no matter how many times yamaguchi assured him that you're not interested in anyone else, there was always a voice in the very back of his head telling him otherwise.
but still, he didn't utter a word to you about it. ever. he didn't want to show any weakness, brushing it off for the time being and pretending like he's not, in fact, quite hurt.
his eyes landed on you once again, his expression softening a bit when noticing you walking in his direction, a bright, wide smile gracing your face.
'i finally found you.' you said, tsukishima immediately noticing the sparkles in your eyes the moment they met his. an almost unnoticeable smile appeared on his face, his hand gently patting the top of your head, fingers brushing through your soft hair. 'want to go get some fresh air?'
the blonde hummed, nodding in response as you quickly grabbed him by his hand, almost dragging him to the nearest exit with a big smile on your face.
upon leaving the building, tsukishima laid his back against the wall, eyes glued to you and carefully scanning your every move.
'what're you thinking about?'
his head tilted to the side, a small mumble leaving his lips.
'nothing.'
hearing his answer, you sighed, walking up a few steps to stand right in front of him, a semi pouty look on your face. your hands went up to cup his cheeks, immediately scoring a theatrical groan from him, the boy trying to hide that he obviously liked whe you did it.
'i don't believe you. you seem deep in thought.'
'what were you and kuroo talking about?'
tsukishima's eyes were focused on yours, his gaze gentle. and yet there was something in the way he looked at you that indicated something wasn't right.
'oh, we just talked about volleyball, what he's been doing after graduating high school, and- wait.' you stopped in the middle of the sentence, making a face that ysukishima couldn't quite decipher; something between an excited and mischievous look. she took a deep breath, her grin growing bigger with each second.
'are you jealous?'
'no, i'm not.'
'yes you are! i knew it.'
'no, i'm not.'
'you are.'
'i'm no- alright.' tsukishima sighed, admitting defeat this time. 'maybe i am. but it's your fault.'
you furrowed your brows, trying to understand what he meant by that. tsukishima saw the expression of yours and almost immediately continued talking, a short but sweet explanation.
'you're too pretty, one day someone's going to steal you from me.'
he didn't expect you to laugh in response, standing up on your tip toes to give him a quick, sweet kiss on the lips.
'it's cute.' you said, giggling at your boyfriend as you saw his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. 'but i'm not going anywhere. there's only one guy in this world who i view as a life partner.'
'and who would that be?' tsukishima asked, a nonchalant tone as he played dumb just to hear the answer.
'you, idiot.'
the blonde boy smiled, and this time it was a genuine one, that would only appear on his face when around you. he ruffled your hair playfully, laughing when you got annoyed about him ruining your hair.
he looked over to the sides, smiling when realized it was just the two of you. he quickly leaned down to kiss you, hand resting on the side of your face.
'i love you.'
you smiled into the kiss upon hearing his whisper, pulling back for a second to look at his face. she wrapped her arms around him tightly, trapping him in a hug.
'i love you too, you know? and i don't plan on going anywhere.'
taglist: @moonswolfie
#tsxkkis#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei x reader#karasuno x reader#tsukishima fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff
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pairing: jake seresin x reader
summary: you ask jake to leave the room while you change
a/n: part two of the series, first one was james potter here!
Jake is already stripped down to his briefs, which makes it all the more confusing for him when you linger by the closet with apprehension etched into the lines on your face.
"Honey," You call, sweet as the moniker itself, "Can you leave?"
His brows furrow, his golden-tanned skin scrunching slightly, "Leave- like, the room?"
"Yeah, or turn around, or something? I'm gonna change."
You're expecting a quip, a protest, or any sort of typical Jake-ism, but instead you're met with the toned expanse of his back as he pivots to face the wall. For good measure, his hands fly up to cover his eyes, even though the only thing they'd be seeing is the white wall that's now in front of him.
"Go ahead, darlin'," He calls, his voice slightly muffled where his palms brush his lips, "Tell me when I can turn back around."
You're left standing there staring, and you won't pretend like his tight briefs are giving you a bad view.
"Jake," You laugh quietly, confused, "Aren't you gonna ask why? Or laugh, or refuse?"
"No," You can hear the frown in his voice, "Why would I do that?"
"Well- you've seen me naked before," You supply, the phone in your hands feeling useless now that Jake's reaction is so mellow, "It's not like I can really hide from you."
"You're not hiding." He reasons, "If you're not in the mood tonight, that's fine. God knows I can't keep it down when you strip, so it's a good thing I'm facing the wall right now, or I'd have to take a very long, very cold shower."
"Thanks, Jake." Is the last thing the camera hears before you press your thumb weakly against the button to end the recording. Your phone thumps softly against the mattress as you toss it aside, and when you give Jake the cue to turn around again your clothes are discarded but not replaced.
"Woah," Jake blinks, eyes wide and looking anywhere but at your naked form, "I thought you wanted a break?"
"It was for some tiktok trend," You admit, "But that was the hottest thing you've ever said to me, so now I'm in the mood. Plus, I was staring at your ass the entire time."
Jake's brows raise, and he finally lets his gaze drift over your face.
"Noted. Camera's off, right?" He tilts his head towards you questioningly, and at your nod he crosses the room, thumbs already hooked into the waistband of his briefs and tugging them off. "Good," He murmurs, briefs now discarded as his hands relocate to your waist, "'Cause what we're about to do would get you banned from the app for life, darlin'."
#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#hangman fanfiction#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin x y/n#top gun x reader#top gun maverick x reader
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Hi loves!!
I love your gwayne Hightower fics!
Can I have a request of gwayne x Targaryen reader (reader is rhaenyra’s young sis) where they are married for a while now then blood and cheese happened instead of jaeherys, one of their twins got killed 😔 and they’re both devastated
but still reader loves her sister (of course) and knows it’s not her fault
Thank you !! Sorry for any wrong grammars😅
are you satisfied?
In which gwayne hightower and his wife, rhaenyra targaryen’s sister, experience a great tragedy
PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader
WARNINGS: death, fighting, typical HOTD violence, like three swear words, 'betrayal'
WORD COUNT: 3.5k
AN: gwayne and the reader's children's names are Visenya and Velarion, and the reader is the rider of Silverwing
Gwayne always loved the fact that his wife’s violet eyes and bright white hair had transferred to their children. He thought his wife was far more comely than he, and he thanked the gods his children hadn’t received his looks.
(Y/N made him swear to stop saying such things, that he was extremely handsome.)
He smiled as his wife played hide and seek with their twins, pretending not to see their obvious hiding spots. She was an amazing mother, he told her as often as he could. His own mother had been cold, choosing court life over raising her children on more than one occasion. He had still loved her dearly, but it seemed, as he grew older, that that love was not returned.
Over time, Gwayne had come to realize that his distaste for King’s Landing stemmed from his mother’s choices. When he had returned for the tourney celebrating the new heir, Prince Baelon, he found a reason to enjoy its high walls. Princess Y/N was a year younger than her sister, but it seemed as if she was much wiser and more deliberate in her decisions.
Because Y/N had loved King’s Landing, he had pretended to enjoy the place. He couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment stretch across her beautiful face.
So when Alicent sent a letter to Gwayne asking him to bring his family to King’s Landing, he couldn’t refuse. But he so wanted to. Y/N sensed his distaste immediately. She knew him too well, he would say.
His wife hadn’t wanted to return to King’s Landing either, her childhood home turned into that of a prison. Bringing their children, she argued, would put their whole family in danger. Gwayne had agreed, but how could he refuse the Dowager Queen?
Y/N hadn’t supported Ageon’s claim, being very forthcoming with her husband when the topic arose. Gwayne remained stoic, never letting anyone know of his true opinion, not even his dear lady wife. If he had backed Rhaenyra, he reasoned with himself, his family would have been killed, and it wouldn’t have mattered that he was the Queen’s brother. If he told Y/N he supported his nephew, she would surely shun him. Which was almost as horrible as any punishment he could have received.
Gwayne laughed as his son, Valerion, dashed across the room, hiding behind his father’s legs. The young boy looked up at his father, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell her, Father.”
Gwayne nodded, looking back to his wife, who was smirking. “Oh where, I wonder, is my little boy?” She looked over at the curtains, ripping it open. “He is such a clever boy, I am sure I will never find him.”
Valerion giggled, and Y/N whipped around, laughing. “What was that?” She looked to her husband. “Did you hear that, my love?”
Gwayne shook his head, forcing himself to remain stoic. “I believe you are imagining things, my dear.”
Valerion giggled again. “She’ll never find me.”
Y/N practically bit her hand. “I keep hearing his voice…” She tiptoed over, jumping behind Gwayne and tickling their son. “I got you!”
Visenya peeked her head out from under the bed. “Does that mean I win?”
Gwayne let loose a loud laugh, gripping his stomach. “You are the champion, my dear.” He walked over, grabbing her from her hiding spot and spinning her around. “Bravo.”
Y/N sighed, hugging Valerion tightly. Their son squirmed, pushing away from his mother. “Mummy please. I’m grown-” Y/N gasped, looking at her son with fake hurt in her eyes.
“You are too old for embracing your mother now?” She sat him on the floor, pretending to cry. “You are six years old now, I should have known.”
Valerion glared playfully at his mother. “Don’t cry, Mummy.”
“I can’t help it.” She giggled. “Soon you’ll be gone and I will never see you again.”
His eyes widened. “But I don’t want to leave!”
Y/N stopped ‘crying’ and looked down at their son with surprise. “Well, that is good news.” She picked him up, hugging him tightly once more. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I tucked you in then?”
He shook his head. “Can you tell us a story?”
Visenya nodded eagerly. “Please Mother.”
Y/N sighed, like she was contemplating if she was going to tell them a story or not. “Well, if you insist…”
Gwayne smiled, setting Visenya down. “Be good for your mother, you two.” He walked over, kissing Y/N on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late, darling.”
The twins looked repulsed, scrunching their noses. Valerion groaned.“Father…”
He looked down, smiling warmly. “One day, your children will make the same noises of disgust at you and your wife, Valerion, and I will remind you of this day.”
Valerion looked disgusted. “I will never marry. I will be free with my dragon, and we will fly across the seven kingdoms.”
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “If only it were that simple, my sweet boy.” She clapped her hands, ushering the twins out of the room. “Now, time for bed.”
Visenya yelled. “And a story!”
Y/N nodded, shutting the door behind her. “And a story.”
The twins' eyes drooped, but Y/N continued the story, knowing that if she stopped, she would be scolded. “And then Rhaenyra and I boarded our dragons, flew to Dragonstone, and retrieved our brother’s egg from our Uncle.” She smirked. “Your grandfathers were furious.”
Valerion whispered. “Do you miss your sister, Mother?”
Y/N nodded, her eyes tearing up at the thought. “Everyday my boy.” She pushed his hair out of his eyes, kissing his forehead gently. “Just as you will miss yours one day.”
Visenya laughed. “We will never be apart. I will make sure of it.”
Y/N smiled. “Goodnight children.” She stood up, walking over to her daughter and kissing her forehead. “Sleep well.”
She took one last look at the pair, almost laughing at the fact that they were already asleep. She blew out their candle, shutting the door gently behind her. She had gotten halfway back to her chambers when a child’s scream echoed through the halls.
Her blood curdled, and she whipped around racing back towards their chambers. Pulling her dagger out of its sheath, she pushed their doors open, whispering. “Childre-” Her eyes widened, and she glared, gripping her dagger tighter. “Who are you?”
Two men stood in front of her twin’s beds, rat traps over their shoulders. The taller one turned around and Y/n recognized him immediately as one of the City Watchmen. His eyes widened. “Your Highness.”
She put on a brave face, but her heart was racing. “What are you doing Sergeant?”
The man ignored her, hissing at his accomplice. “This is the wrong room. He wouldn’t want her chi-”
The smaller man interrupted, gesturing back to the Princess. “It’s too late. She’s going to tell.”
Y/N shook her head, whispering so that her children wouldn’t wake up. “I won’t. Just don’t hurt my children, and I swear I won’t.”
The small man ignored her, lowering his dagger towards Valerion’s neck. The Sergeant hissed. “That’s not who he wanted.” Reaching his arm out, he pulled the ‘rat catcher’ away from the bed. The ‘rat catcher’ jumped, and his knife fell out of his hand, plunging into her son’s neck.
Y/N gasped, a hand covering her mouth. The room was silent, none of them moving.
The Sergeant looked panicked. “Your Highness-”
A tear fell, and she looked up at the pair, whispering. “You are going to pay for that.”
She walked forward, raising her dagger and plunging it into the murderer’s neck before either of them had the chance to defend themselves. She later would say that it served them right, they carelessly murdered her son, and so she simply returned the favor.
The Sergeant pushed her away, grabbing his dying accomplice and racing towards the tunnels. She screamed, falling to the floor. Visenya stirred, her eyes opening slowly. “Mummy? What-”
Y/N wiped away her tears, ripping her daughter out of her bed. She shoved Visenya’s face into her neck, whispering soothingly. As soothingly as she could for just witnessing her son’s murder. ”Go back to sleep my love.”
Visenya’s eyes fluttered. “What about-”
“Shh, my dear.” Y/N felt her eyes well up. “Shh.”
Tucking Visenya in on the couch in their shared chambers, Y/N stalked towards their bedroom, her heart beating against her chest. “Gwayne.” She hissed. He stayed asleep. Anger raced through her veins, how could he sleep through this? She shook him harshly, on the verge of yelling. “Wake up.”
He grumbled, rolling over. “What is-” His eyes widened, throwing the covers off as he examined his wife. “You are drenched in blood.”
“Gwayne…” She sobbed, falling to the ground as he watched helplessly. “He’s dead.”
Gwayne felt worried, and sat beside his wife, rubbing circles into her back. “Who is dead, my love?”
“Valerion.” She wailed, throwing herself into her arms as more tears streamed down her face. “Valerion!”
Gwayne’s heart dropped. “What?”
“They-”
“Who?” He grabbed his wife’s arms, eyes piercing into hers. “Who?”
“I don’t know. Some rat catcher and a-” She sobbed again. “A City Watchman.” He stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of their room and back toward their children’s chambers. Y/N fought against her husband's hold, still violently sobbing. “No, Gwayne please do not make me go back.”
He stopped, realizing that she had truly seen everything. “My love, we have to. We need-” He choked on a sob he hadn’t known was forming. “We need to be strong for a little longer.”
Without waiting for her response, he pushed the twins’ doors open, their son lying lifelessly in his bed. He let go of Y/N’s hand, racing over to Valerion’s side. He gently pulled the knife from his son’s chest, pushing his bright white hair out of his eyes. “My boy.”
Y/N wailed once more. “Valerion, this isn’t funny, you’ve upset your mother.” His throat felt as if it was closing up. “Valerion, wake up right now.” He felt his son’s throat, finally accepting his death when he felt no pulse. He fell back, staring at the bed. “We need to notify someone.”
“Who?” Y/N cried. “Alicent? My drunken half brother of a king?”
“Anyone in the Keep, Y/N.” He stared at their son. “How did this happen?”
She simply shrugged, climbing up off the floor. “I must leave.”
His head whipped over, staring at his wife in shock. “You are leaving?”
“I will be back, I swear to you.”
“Where are you-”
“Leave it!” She snapped, a rage in her eyes that Gwayne had never seen. He nodded, watching as she walked out of their children’s room and down the hall.
Dragonstone was quiet, Y/N noticed. Of course it was, night still covered its dark walls. She landed Silverwing on the hill above the castle, stalking toward the entrance. “I demand to see my sister.”
The guard laughed. “And you are-”
“Y/N.” Rhaenyra stepped out from the shadows. “What are you doing here?”
“My son has been murdered.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, another sob breaking out. “He’s dead, Rhaenyra.”
Rhaenyra ushered her sister inside, out of the watchful eyes of her family and advisors. Rhaenyra closed her chamber doors, and sat her sister down, kneeling in front of her. “What do you mean-”
“My son has been murdered. That is what I mean.” She glared at the older woman. “Did you-”
“Seven hells, Y/N. Of course not.” She took Y/N’s hands in hers. “Do you really think that I would order the death of a child, let alone my sweet nephew?”
“I just-” Y/N sighed. “I had to make sure.” Taking one last look at her dear sister, she stood, nodding. “I will see myself out.”
Rhaneyra watched as her sister glided across the room. Just as the door opened, she cried out. “I miss you.”
Y/N smiled. “I miss you too.” She’d almost reached the exit of the castle when she felt eyes following her every step. “Iēdrosa hiding isse se shadows, nyke ūndegon. (Still hiding in the shadows, I see.)”
He stepped out, his face taking in the sight of his ‘traitorous’ niece. “Iēdrosa married naejot se hightower orvorta, nyke ūndegon. (Still married to the Hightower cunt, I see.)”
She held her head up high, glaring at her uncle. “I’ll have you know that cunt is a good man. A better man than you will ever be.” Guilt flashed across his face, but she continued. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation that I support the usurper that is my half brother, and if you repeat that mistake again, you will have more than my words attacking you.” She nodded, walking past him. “Goodbye, Daemon.”
Visenya had been wailing for days. Wailing over the death of her brother, and wailing over the fact that neither of her parents could look at her without tearing up. The couple sat beside each other at dinner, scarcely eating or speaking. Alicent sighed. “It does your daughter no good if you die of hunger.”
Y/N looked up from her plate, tilting her head, hoping she had just misheard. “What did you just-”
Gwayne grabbed her hand tightly under the table, signaling to not pick a fight. “Quite right, sister.”
Alicent smiled. “We are very fortunate.”
Y/N fought against her impulse to pull her dagger out and commit a massacre. “How so?”
“That they had the children’s rooms confused.”
Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. She must have been hallucinating. “Excuse me?”
“I only meant it would have been quite catastrophic if the assassins had found Jaehaerys instead of Velarion.”
Y/N smiled, and she could tell it had unnerved Alicent. “Yes, because my son is much less important than the heir to the throne. Thank the gods it was Velarion instead of Jaehaerys.”
Gwayne stilled, setting his silverware down. Alicent’s cheeks flushed. “I hope I did not upset you.”
Y/N laughed, so loudly that the whole room stopped talking, staring at the woman drowning in her grief. “Of course not. You began upsetting me twenty years ago.”
Aegon smiled drunkenly. “Sister-”
“You are no brother of mine, Aegon. So do not start acting it because of this little spat.” She pushed her chair out, making an announcement. “We will be leaving at first light. This has been, by far, the worst encounter I have ever had with King’s Landing.”
Gwayne raced after his wife, not even bothering to say goodbye to his family. “Y/N-”
“I cannot believe you.”
“What?”
“You just sat there, Gwayne.” She seethed, practically running down the halls. “Our son is dead, and you sat there and let your sister act as if it was a minor loss. An accident.”
“My love-”
“Don’t!” She snapped. “I am taking Visenya, and we are going to Dragonstone.” She stopped outside their chambers, whispering so that their guards would not hear. “I do not care where you go, but I do not wish to ever see your face again.”
He sighed, walking into their room after her. “Y/N-”
“Gwayne, that is the end of our discussion-”
“No it is not!” He yelled. “I am grieving as well. You do not get to pretend I am not.”
“Then show it!” She yelled back. “You have been silent for days. You do not defend me at dinner, you do not defend me at all. You sit there like you are dead yourself.” She scoffed. “You might as well be.”
Gwayne was practically glowering. “Do not say things you do not mean, wife.”
“I will say-”
“Mummy?” The couple looked down, realizing they had just fought loudly in front of their daughter. Y/N crouched down, opening her arms.
“Come here, my love.”
Visenya faltered, and Gwayne watched as Y/N cracked, standing up. She barely spared a glance at Gwayne. “I will be sleeping in my own chambers tonight.”
He shook his head. “No.”
She scoffed. “I didn’t realize you controlled me, my lord.”
He widened his eyes, gesturing down to their daughter who was watching with wide watery eyes. “Y/N, do me this one kindness.”
“Gwayne, I need to be alone.” She stepped back, walking towards her secret exit when his hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her back. His breath hit her neck as he whispered. “Sleep in our bed. I will stand watch, and we will leave at first light for Dragonstone.” She turned around, her eyes wide. He looked determined, and in that moment, Y/N understood that he would do anything to keep them together. Her heart skipped as he bore his soul to hers, his voice heavy. “I will not have my family thrown into chaos and ruin.”
Her eyes were teary as she whispered. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Go to bed.” He turned back to their daughter, carrying her over to her makeshift bed. Visenya’s sweet voice could be heard whispering to her father. “Did I upset Mummy?”
“No my dear.” He kissed her head gently. “Your mother is hurting, as am I. Never forget that we love you dearly.” He tucked her back into bed. “Sleep tight, little one.”
It had been surprisingly easy to escape the Red Keep. Y/N gathered it was because they did not think anyone would want to leave, which made her laugh. Who would want to be held captive in such a place?
Gwayne never understood how Targaryen’s flew dragons like it was as simple as riding a horse. Being this high up horrified him, but his wife and daughter enjoyed it immensely. Visenya giggled as she reached out, grabbing a cloud with her bare hands. “Father, open your eyes!”
Y/N laughed. “Your father is frightened, dear.”
Gwayne scoffed. “I am not. I’m simply-”
“Scared!” Visenya laughed. “I thought knights were supposed to be brave, Father.”
Gwayne gasped, clutching his heart as he forced his eyes open. “Are you calling me a coward, young lady?”
Y/N smiled, forgetting for a moment that their family had been torn apart only four days ago. “Hang on.”
“Hang on?” Gwayne questioned. “Why-”
Silverwing dove, and Gwayne felt the air leave his lungs, clutching onto his wife’s waist. “Seven Hells!”
Y/N laughed, her hair flying in the wind. “Enjoy it, my love!” The great dragon landed roughly on the same hill she had visited days before. Helping down Visenya, she smirked as her husband clambered off of her dragon’s back. “Careful, Gwayne.”
“I am-” His leg caught on the saddle, and he fell backwards, causing his two silver haired beauties to burst into tears. “Do not laugh.”
“It is quite difficult.” Y/N’s violet eyes glittered in the sun. “Come down, we have much to do.”
Y/N held Visenya close to her as they approached her sister and her family. Gwayne trailed behind the two, looking around the room skeptically. Rhaenyra sat tall on her throne. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, sister?”
Y/N bowed deeply. “Your Grace, we come to swear allegiance to you, and ask that you allow us to stay with you on Dragonstone.”
Daemon laughed. “And why would we-”
With one look, Rhaneyra shut Daemon. “That is not necessary, Y/N.” She stood up, embracing her sister tightly. The elder sister looked down, waving at the young girl. “Hello, little one.”
Visenya smiled shyly, clinging to her mother’s form. Y/N laughed, whispering. “Visenya, this is your Aunt Rhaenyra. Say hello.”
Rhaenyra laughed. “Hello, Visenya. You are the spitting image of your mother.”
The young girl blushed, smiling. “Thank you.”
“Mother, what is the meaning of-” A tall, dark-haired young man sauntered in. “Y/N!” He rushed over, hugging her tightly. “How-”
“I was most tired of the 'hospitality' of King’s Landing.” She smirked. “If one could call it that." She stepped back, taking in her grown nephew. "My, you have grown. Last I saw you, you were half your height.”
He scoffed, glaring playfully. “Yes, well…”
Rhaenyra clapped her hands. “Let us show you to your rooms.” She put her arm through her sisters. “You must be exhausted.”
“One moment.” Daemon’s voice rang through the throne room. “What about her traitorous husband?”
“Daemon-”
Y/N glared. “What did I tell you would happen if you said that again?”
Daemon laughed. “I would like to see you-”
Gwayne's auburn hair blocked her view of her uncle, standing in between the two. Y/N smiled. Standing in between two angry Targaryens was a recipe for death, and yet there her husband stood, stoic as ever.
“Please.” He turned to the King Consort. “I know that my family has done nothing but hurt yours…” He spared a look to his wife. “But you must understand that my love for your niece has overcome any loyalty I once had to my family.”
“How can we be sure you will not betray-”
Gwayne hissed. “They are the reason my son is dead. I will never forgive them.”
Daemon nodded. “Very well.”
Gwayne nodded back, turning to his wife. “Let us go rest my love.” He kissed her temple, following after the queen. “I believe we have earned it.”
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“Do you think I want this? To keep you hidden like some dirty secret?”
Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader
based on this request
- angsty angsty angst, resolved!
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Chris sat across from you, his eyes down, his fingers nervously picking at the edge of his hoodie sleeve. You could tell from the way his jaw clenched that he wasn’t taking what you said well.
“Chris, I just… I want us to be normal-” you said softly, trying to ease into it. You leaned forward, your elbows on your knees. “-we’ve been together for over a year now. It feels like I’m hiding from your life, I just want to be part of it”
He shook his head “You know why we can’t do that-” he said firmly “-It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. But you’ve seen what happens when anyone even thinks we might be dating someone. The rumors, the hate… the threats”
Your chest tightened. You had seen it, firsthand. Some of the girls in their circle had faced vile messages just for being friends with Chris or his brothers. It was toxic, vicious. But you weren’t some random girl from the internet or just a casual friend. You were his girlfriend, the person he loved. Didn’t that matter more?
“But we can’t keep doing this, Chris-” you pressed, your voice rising with frustration. “-I love you, and I know you love me. But this… sneaking around, hiding from the world? I don’t know how much longer I can do it…”
Chris’s eyes flashed with concern, but then the stubbornness took over. “Y/N, I care about you. The minute we go public, you’ll be a target. They’ll tear you apart, and I can’t stop that-” He ran a hand through his hair “-so i wont let it start”
“Well I don’t want to hide anymore!” you exclaim, louder than you meant to, but you were at your breaking point. “I want to go out on dates like a normal couple! Dinner at actual restaurants, walks in the park, watching movies at the movie theatre—in public, not just on your couch, hoping no one’s watching your house!”
Chris stood up, starting to pace the living room. “Do you really think it’s that easy? You don’t know what you’re asking for!-” His voice was louder now, echoing through the space. “-once it’s out there, we can’t take it back. There’s no turning it off. I just… I’m trying to protect you”
Your heart ached at his words, but you couldn’t shake the hurt that was building inside you. That had been building inside of you for months and months. “You’re not protecting me, Chris. You’re suffocating me”
The silence after those words felt suffocating in itself. His pacing stopped, and for a long moment, the two of you just stared at eachother.
Chris’s pacing picked back up, his frustration more apparent with every step. “Do you think I want this? To keep you hidden like some dirty secret?-” His voice cracked, and you could see the pain in his eyes. “-You think I don’t dream about being out there with you, showing everyone how lucky I am? But I’ve seen what they do. You’ve seen it! It’s not fair, but it’s real”
You clenched your fists, trying to steady your voice, but it came out shakier than you wanted. “I know it’s real, Chris. But I’m not some fragile thing you need to protect from the world. I can handle the hate. I can handle the rumors. What I can’t handle is pretending I’m not with you—like what we have doesn’t even exist outside of these four walls!”
He rolled his eyes in frustration “And what if you can’t handle it? What if they come after you, after your family, your friends? They don’t just stop with hate comments, you know that. They’ll dig into your life, they’ll twist everything. I don’t think you really get how far this can go y/n!”
Your frustration surged, the bubbling anger finally spilling over. “Of course, I get it, Chris! I’m not naïve. I see the way people talk about you guys, but I love you, and I’m willing to take that risk. I’m sick of feeling like an outsider in your life!”
“You’re not an outsider!-” Chris snapped, stopping his pacing again to look at you, his voice desperate. “-You’re my whole life, and that’s why I can’t let you get hurt like this. I can’t do it”
“You’re not letting me choose, Chris!” You stand from the couch, stepping towards him. “This isn’t just about you. It’s my life too. I should get a say in how we live it!”
He froze, his jaw tight. He took a deep breathe, before lowering his voice. “I’m trying to protect you..why can’t you see that?” he says, dragging his hand over his face.
Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes as you fought to keep your composure. “Because it doesn’t feel like protection—it feels like control. I want to stand next to you in public, and if that comes with hate, then so be it. I’m not afraid of them. I’m afraid of losing you because we’re hiding something that should be real”
For a second, it looked like Chris was about to respond, but he just stood there, defeated, staring at you like he didn’t know what to say.
“Maybe you’re right” you said softly, grabbing your bag off the couch. “Maybe I don’t understand how hard this will be. But I know I can’t keep living like this”
Chris reached for you, his eyes pleading
“Y/N wait , don’t go, please. Let’s figure this out”
But you couldn’t. Not now. Not when you felt like you were drowning in this fear he refused to let go of. You needed air, space, time to think. Without another word, you left, the door closing behind you far too loudly, sealing the argument inside.
~~~
Days passed without a word from Chris. Each night felt heavier than the last as you lay in bed, staring at your phone, waiting for a text that never came. You missed him. Despite the fight, despite everything, you missed him.
By the time a week had passed, the silence between you was unbearable.
It was a surprise when you heard the knock on your door that night. When you opened it, there was Chris, looking as disheveled as you felt. His eyes were red-rimmed, like he hadn’t been sleeping much either.
“Hey…” he said, almost inaudiible
“Hey….” you echoed, stepping aside to let him in.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. You stood there, facing each other in the middle of your living room, the weight of the past week like a fuck off elephant in the room.
“I..I’m sorry-” Chris finally said, “-I hate that we fought. I hate that you felt like you had to leave. But… I’ve been thinking about what you said”
You crossed your arms, unsure if you were ready for what he was about to say.
“I know I’ve been too protective-” he continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “-I just… the thought of something happening to you because of me? Because of who I am? It messes with my head ma, n I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt because of this. Because of us”
Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them away. “Chris… I know you’re scared. I get it. But I’m scared too. I just… I want to be with you-” you trail off , the tears you tried to blink back now rolling down your cheeks “-i want to go public chris” you whisper.
He nodded slowly, his expression softening. “I know. And you’re right. We’ve been together long enough to deserve that. If this is what you want, we’ll do it. But… we have to be careful. I don’t want to rush into it and then regret it later”
Relief washed over you as you stepped closer to him. Chris pulled you into his arms, holding you tight. “I don’t want to lose you. And if going public is what you need… then we’ll make it work. I just need you to know it won’t be easy”
You rested your head against his chest, taking a small shaky breath. “I know it won’t be easy. But I’d rather face it together than keep pretending like we don’t exist”
He sighed, his hand running through your hair. “Then we’ll do it. But… let’s be smart about it- slow, one step at a time, m’kay?”
you nod against his chest “We’ll be okay”
Chris pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you close,
“We’ll be okay”
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
a/n; thankyou sm for the request! loveddd writing this!!
also chat i think im suffering with a small case of writers block, so im sorry for the lack of posts fic wise but im tryna push through, love you all
- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡
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— ♬ NSFW
Imagine NAKAHARA CHUUYA giving you bedroom eyes across the table during a meeting with all the executives in the Port Mafia. The way his gaze was lidded and dark while he subtly fixed his focus on you during the entire time. You watch him humming and nodding, pretending to listen and understand whatever is being discussed. With how his eyes were blatantly undressing you, it made you squirm in your seat and clench your thighs involuntarily.
"[Name]-chan"
Suddenly, the voice of Dazai Osamu from beside you pulled you out of your thoughts. You blinked and looked at the brunette, he grinned at you and poked your cheek.
"You seem to be focusing on something else other than the meeting"
He teases and you break into a sweat. Your eyes slid back to Chuuya and noticed how he was immediately glaring daggers at Dazai. You gulped and let out a nervous laugh.
"...Was it that obvious?"
"Uh-huh. I'm wondering what's got that pretty mind of yours distracted"
Dazai smirks down at you and you can feel his hand on your knee, slowly rubbing your skin. You open your mouth but turn away, hiding your flushed face. You were afraid to see what expression was on Chuuya's face now. You tried to remove Dazai's hand on your knee, but he stubbornly brought it back, even trailing it higher to your thigh.
As soon as the meeting was done, you felt a firm grip on your arm as it dragged you to the nearest restroom. You gasped when you realized that Chuuya had dragged you and he did not look happy. He pushes you into one of the stalls and locks it behind him. You winced when he grabbed your jaw.
"Why the hell is Dazai talking to you, huh?"
He grits his teeth and smiles darkly at you.
"It was nothing"
"Nothing, huh? I can see his fucking hand crawling up your leg during the meeting!"
The gravity manipulator snarls at you. The relationship between you and Chuuya has been kept a secret for months during your time in the Port Mafia. So far, nobody has ever known what was going on between you and him. Not even Dazai. And Chuuya would love to keep it that way. He hated when Dazai was meddling in his personal life. However, it pissed him off whenever the bandaged freak was trying to make a move on you. The mafioso wasn't inherently possessive but seeing Dazai constantly hit on you in his presence while he can't do anything about it since he values his secret relationship with you, made his blood boil.
"Were you letting that bastard touch you?"
"No! I keep removing his hand but—"
"That fucking mackerel"
Chuuya hissed. You whimpered and avoided his gaze; he growls at this and crashes his lips against yours. His hand trails down to wrap it around your neck while your hands fly to grab his hair. The kiss was filled with heat and urgency. The executive presses you against the wall as his free hand goes to grab your breasts. You moan into the kiss as your hands go down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.
Dazai sighed as he entered the restroom. He realizes that one of the stalls is occupied but he can hear the faint sound of groaning. A smirk rises on his lips.
"Chuuya, are you in there?"
Dazai knocked on the stall. Both you and Chuuya froze before sharing a panicked look. You were settled half-naked on the toilet, legs spread while the gravity manipulator's dick deep in you. Chuuya pauses mid-thrust as he holds his breath.
"The fuck you want, Dazai?"
"Ha! I knew it was you! Watcha doing? Taking a fat shit?"
Dazai laughed and leaned against the bathroom stall. Chuuya grits his teeth as he signals for you to keep quiet. You nod your head as your hand creeps up to cover your mouth.
"Leave me the fuck alone, bastard"
"You sound like you're struggling while shitting, want me to help?"
"Fuck off!"
In genuine frustration of being annoyed by Dazai's unexpected presence, Chuuya's hips unintentionally buck forward making you go cross-eyed. You pressed your hand against your lips, hoping a noise won't slip out.
"Hey Chuuya, don't you think [Name] looks very pretty today?"
You watched as Chuuya's eyes landed on yours, a devilish grin appeared on his features and your heart skipped a beat. The gravity manipulator continues to languidly thrust in and out of you. The feeling of his cock delicately stretching your walls and hitting the deepest parts of you made you drool.
"Why should I care about that?"
"She was pretty distracted during the meeting, and she looked cute when I caught her"
Dazai giggled. Chuuya's grin grows bigger as he stares down at you. His pace was slowly picking up speed and you felt like you could barely hold back a whimper.
"You got a stupid crush on her or something?"
"Yeah, she's hot. I kinda of wish she would let me hit"
"Oh? Well maybe she's not into a bandage wasting machine"
"As if she'd be interested in a midget like you!"
Dazai raised a brow when Chuuya barked out a laugh. That's odd, usually the gravity manipulator would snarl at him, kick down the door, and then strangle him. Meanwhile, Chuuya was hooking both of your legs over his shoulder before thrusting deep into you, his cockhead kissing your cervix. Your eyes rolled back as his thrusts turned faster, rendering you breathless and speechless. The mafioso couldn't hold back his condescending chuckle.
"You don't know her at all, stupid mackerel"
"Huh? What makes you think you know anything about [Name]?"
The brunette crossed his arms. Chuuya smiles wickedly down at you when he brutally thrusts forward, his hips slapping against your ass with a resonating smack as a choked moan escapes your lips. Dazai freezes and merely doubles over. He blinks once, twice, before stepping back from the stall. His eyes trailed down at the bottom of the stall, his eyes narrowed when he could only see Chuuya's feet with his pants down to his ankles, and he was certainly not taking a shit on the toilet.
"Hey, Chuuya—"
"What makes you think that you, Dazai, know anything about her?"
Chuuya kept his eyes on you as he watched you getting closer to your release with the way he was deeply fucking into your sopping cunt. Oh no, he was no longer hiding the fact he was fucking you in the stall. To hell with it! Who the fuck cares if he's banging you? Plus, he's tired of stupid Dazai trying to get in your pants.
You wanted to get mad at Chuuya with how embarrassing the situation was and how he essentially exposed your carefully concealed relationship with him. But he was pounding your pussy so good that you can't help but curl your toes and arch your back. Dazai stood motionless as he processed the sound of skin slapping against each other violently on the inside of the stall. He could hear the sound of Chuuya panting and your gasps and moans slowly picking up volume.
"Shit! I'm fucking close!"
The mafioso digs his nails against your thighs as he thrusts erratically inside of you. He watches with a smirk when you throw your head back and moan loudly. Chuuya brings you to your orgasm when his hand reaches down to rub delicious circles on your clit.
"Oh fuck—Chuuya—!"
You whine as your jaw goes slack. Chuuya hisses when your walls clamp down around him during your release. It didn't take long for him to cum. With one, two, and three thrusts, you can feel Chuuya's warm cum painting your walls.
Dazai's throat went dry. Did he just fucking listen to Chuuya fucking you? Fuck, he hated how it made his pants go tight. The sound of the stall door creaking open catches the brunette's attention. The air from Dazai's lungs gets violently knocked out at the sight that awaited him. Chuuya was grinning proudly at him with his cock out as he held the door wide open. The brunette's eyes zeroed at you, fucked absolutely dumb on the toilet with your legs spread open and with Chuuya's cum leaking out of your cunt in display for Dazai.
I'm back with the horny guys
#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bsd fanfic#bsd smut#bungou stray dogs chuuya#bsd chuuya#bsd nakahara chuuya#chuuya nakahara#bsd chuuya nakahara x reader#bsd chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya x reader#chuuya x you#bsd dazai osamu#bsd dazai#dazai osamu#dazai osamu x reader#dazai x reader
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kinktober day 1 - hand kink [s.reid]
spencer reid x fem!reader
content warnings; smut (obvi), vaginal fingering, lots of loving and cumming in clothes (spencer)
notes; aimed to be later seasons spencer, as he’s a dom in this, but you could imagine it however you like :)
kinktober masterlist
—————
the two of your were sat on his couch, quietly watching an old russian film that he’d put on. spencer whispered the translations into your hair, as your head rested on his shoulder and you slouched lazily against him. his eyes were glued to the screen, even though he had watched the film multiple times before.
you however, were much more focused on his hands, which were busy stroking the inside of your thigh, just below your knee.
they really were lovely hands, but you suppose that you’re biased. they’re all strong and veiny, slender fingers, trimmed nails and surprisingly soft. it didn’t help that you knew exactly how well he could use them.
“you okay, angel?”
you hummed, hoping he hadn’t caught on to your internal lusting. hands were an embarrassing thing to find attractive, and you really didn’t want your genius boyfriend to find out that secret about you.
“did you need something?”
you chose to keep quiet, knowing he’d pick up on the change in your tone quicker than any body language ticks. instead, you shook your head, before pressing your body further into his side.
his hand slowly slid lower down the inside of your leg, having opted to only wear your underwear and one of his t-shirts, he was growing dangerously close to where you needed him.
your breath hitched, and he chuckled lightly at the sound.
“you sure, honey?” he said with saccharine sweetness. you could hear the smirk in his voice, and you turned to hide you face in his shoulder, no longer bothering to pretend to be interested in the tv.
busted.
dragging his fingertips over your underwear, he palmed at where your cunt hid underneath, only using light pressure as to torture you. your hips bucked involuntarily, wanting more.
“use your words, and i’ll give you what you want,”
“please?”
“i know you can do much better than that,”
“don’t be mean,”
“don’t be a brat, then,”
you could feel your arousal slowly seeping through the cotton, and you weren’t sure how much more of this you’d be able to cope with.
“want you to touch me,” you breathe, hips bucking up again.
any other day, spencer would’ve made you be more specific, but he could tell that you had been getting worked up for a while, and decided to relent.
“good girl,”
he continued to palm at you, only moving on when you whined and squirmed under his overly delicate touching.
“i know, i’m sorry, baby. i’ll be nicer now,” he reassured you, “being so good, gorgeous.”
the sweet names only made your state more pathetic, desire pooling heavily in your lower stomach.
he pulled you onto his lap, then spread your legs wide over his. you cheeks flushed brightly, feeling so exposed at the new positioning. you could feel his arousal press into your ass, feeling comforted that he was just as affected by you, as you were him.
gently pulling your underwear to the side, but careful not to catch your sensitive clit on the tight fabric, spencer’s fingertips started swirling circles onto your pearl, slowly building up the pressure and speed as to not overwhelm you too quickly. it felt amazing, but you craved to have him fill you, needing to feel full with him.
always knowing your body perfectly, his fingers slid down your cunt without prompting. they dipped slightly into your heat, before moving back up towards your clit.
you gasped his name, babbling on about how much you needed him and how good he was making you feel.
obviously pleased with your words, he finally pushed his fingers into you and started to scissor them, pressing deeply into your slick walls.
you panted, crying out more than you’d usually allow yourself to, so pent up and turned on from all his previous teasing.
he watched you, feeling his cock twitch heavily as your writhed on top of him. this was always one of his favourite positions to finger you in, having you so close and pressed up against him never failed to have him feeling like he was seconds away from ruining his boxers.
he could tell you were trying to hold back from orgasming too quickly, your thighs beginning to tremble and you had that glassy look in your eyes.
“you’re okay, cum for me, sweet girl,”
your back instantly arched off of him, loud moans escaping your mouth as you let go. your limbs spasmed, your arousal flooding from your cunt and onto his hands.
if you think about it hard enough, you can vaguely recall spencer tensing up behind you, before letting his head fall into you and groaning.
you slumped back onto him, trying to steady your breathing as you both came down from your highs.
he recovered first, tugging your underwear back into place, then rubbing soothingly along the red line the pressure had caused and shushing you when you whimpered.
he lowered his head, and pressed chaste kisses into your shoulder. you let out a groan when he says, “did you know that around 1.8% of people have a hand fetish of some sorts?”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#dr spencer reid#kinktober#kinktober 24#kinktober 2024#my works#my work
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