#not gonna be able to get that image out of your head forever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seoulmatez · 1 year ago

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୨♡୧ SMILE FOR THE CAMERA — be a doll and give them something to remember you by while they're away.

featuring. itoshi rin, oliver aiku, shidou ryusei.

warnings. f!reader, nudes, consensual filming and photo taking, cunnilingus, blowjob, hair pulling, pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart) one little bite, some overstimulation. all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ ITOSHI RIN

rin is settling in his seat on the plane when his phone buzzes in his pocket. it’s likely a text from you, one asking for the man to call you when he has safely landed at his destination. he pulls the device out and unlocks it with that in mind but stills upon the messages app. it is a text but the contents of it are far less innocent than rin imagined.

there’s a photo of you, dressed in nothing but his favorite set of lingerie. you’re sat in front of the mirror with your legs spread apart and panties pulled to the side, giving him a pretty view of your pussy. it’s glistening with your slick and the sight alone is almost enough to make rin’s mouth water as he’s more than eager for a taste.

the previous night when his head had been tucked between your thighs, lips sucking at your clit and tongue lapping away at your cunt, suddenly feels like forever ago. he isn’t sure how long he’ll last without being able to savor the taste of you, how long he’ll be able to manage not feeling your thighs trembling against the sides of his face and the quiver of your pussy beneath his tongue.

rin’s grip on his phone is much tighter than it had been when he first pulled it out as he stares down at your picture. there’s a thin line between him wishing you had worn the lacey lingerie before he left this morning and being grateful that you hadn’t so he wouldn’t miss his flight. though, how can he be upset with you when you took the liberty of getting all prettied up for him?

he’s about to thank you for the photo and comment on how useful it’ll be during your time apart when his eyes flit down to the message that accompanies your racy photo.

for while you’re away ♡

₊˚ପ⊹ OLIVER AIKU

“fuck, that’s it, pretty girl,” oliver coos, a low grunt following shortly after. his grasp on your hair tightens as your nose brushes his pelvis. spit dribbles down your chin and gathers at the base of his cock that’s thickening in your mouth. you moan around his length at the feel of his head prodding at the tight give of your throat.

the vibration is all it takes to draw out oliver’s orgasm. he groans, tugging your hair to pull you off his cock before the rush of his cum shoots down your throat. warm, white ropes of his essence pool on your tongue. “don’t swallow,” he chokes out, waiting for the final wave of his climax to pass.

obediently, you keep your tongue stuck out, letting the abundance of his cum collect on your tongue. the phone in his hand that’s not holding your hair lifts as he breathes heavily, a grin pulling at the man’s lips. a flash briefly brightens the room as oliver takes a picture of you between his legs, on your knees with his seed in your mouth.

“go ahead and swallow, sweetheart,” he tells you, his thumb swiping the screen. you do as he says, happily swallowing and giving him a lazy smile aftward. he lets go of your hair to take his cock in his hand. the flash of his camera returns but for longer as he traces his tip along the curve of your lips, leaving what looks like a shiny gloss on the delicate skin.

“are you gonna miss me while i’m gone?” oliver asks, still filming.

you hum and nod. “more than anything.”

“good girl,” he quietly praises, tapping the red button to end his recording. he tosses his phone to the side before cradling your cheeks with both of his hands. “what do you say to one more round before i leave, hm?”

₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU RYUSEI

your cheeks burn even hotter than the rest of your warm skin as ryusei holds your chin in place so that you’re looking at the mirror settled in front of you—the one that reflects your joined bodies, shows you the lewd image of you bouncing on his cock. with his phone raised and recording the act as well, it feels as though hundreds of eyes are watching you. a tinge of embarrassment courses through you but, more than anything else, your skin prickles with arousal.

shidou’s lips ghost over the pulse of your neck, his breath raising the fine hairs on your nape. he smiles against your skin before leaving a trail of wet kisses up to your jaw. he nips at the skin there; not hard enough to be painful but just firm enough for another wave of arousal to wash over you.

the man breathes out a laugh at the moan that pushes past your lips. his hand abandons its hold on your chin, trusting that you’ll keep your eyes forward in favor of letting his fingers dance down your body until they reach your clit. his thumb rubs circles against the sensitive nub, drawing a choked gasp from you as you continue to bounce on his cock.

“listen to you,” he drawls, a grin still pulling at his lips as he meets your eye in the mirror. you aren’t sure if he means the lewd sound of your wetness, skin slapping skin, or the variety of noises he keeps pulling from you—maybe he’s referring to all of them. “you like this, don’t you?”

you’re too overwhelmed to string together a coherent reply, so you settle for a frantic nod.

“yeah?” he asks, sickeningly sweet. his lips hover over the shell of your ear, magenta eyes never leaving yours. “come for me then.”

like his words are an enchantment, you come undone around him, walls fluttering around his cock as your orgasm floods over you. you whine at the way his hips don’t let up on their thrusts. as if he can sense the question sparkling in your eyes, shidou jerks his head in the direction of his phone. “we’ve gotta get mine, too.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #oliver aiku x reader #shidou x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk scenarios #blue lock scenarios #bllk x you #blue lock x you

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jasmines-library · 10 months ago

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Hi love <3!

I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable with writing something with the bat-family finding out that the reader has like, the abilities to transfer injuries to themselves.

Like, one of them is hurt and reader just rips their gloves off mid mission and drops to their side, transferring the injury to themself. Bonus points if they automatically transfer some psychological trauma as well? And maybe reader avoiding talking about it and stuff, the family finally seeing the countless scars that reader got because of their power.

(This is has been stuck in my head for forever and I’ve never seen anyone write the bat-family as good as you do, so <3)

Heal

Note: I've literally wanted to write something like this for ages! thank you for requesting ❤️ also tumblr was throwing a tantrum and not letting me put the image I wanted as a header so you get a GIF instead :(

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Scars.

Word count: 1.7k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“Robin!”

The scream ripped itself from your throat as you saw him drop to the ground. The crook stood over him, removing the dagger that dripped with crimson red from where he had plunged it into Damians thigh. You practically launched yourself across the street as he fled, dropping to his side. He clutched feebly at the wound, eyes screwed up in pain. Your hand hovered over the wound as he cried out in pain gawping at the open wound. Blood gushed from the deep wound staining the concrete.

“Hold on Robin, you’re gonna be fine.” you told him as you tore off your gloves and discarded them on the ground.

Then, pressing your hand firmly over the wound and wincing at his shout of discomfort, you began to heal the wound. It was a strange sensation that no matter how many times you felt, you never seemed to get used to. The tingling ran up your arms but quickly replaced by an agonising burn as Damian’s wound began to heal on his skin and began to appear beneath your thigh beneath your suit. You bit your lip to hold back the cry as you watched the gaping wound close leaving behind nothing but shiny new skin and another hole in his suit for Alfred to patch up.

Damian pushed himself up onto his forearms to regain his composure when he felt the pain dissipate from his body. Around you, the rest of the vigilantes were still battling the criminals who seemed to be flanking in from every possible angle. You helped him to his feet, asking if he was alright as you pulled on your gloves. He gave you a brief nod of thanks before dashing off with his katana in hand to help his family. You staggered behind him trying to hide the limp that you had developed from the wound. You could already feel it healing; one of the many perks of your abilities, but it still hurt like a bitch. But you pressed forward anyway, gripping your weapon tightly to help with the fight.

You had had much worse. Much much worse. Like that one time that Joker had captured Tim…you took all of his injuries. But the thing is, with injuries come memories. Each cell carries its own story. And every time you take on a wound, you take on some of the trauma that comes with it. It's not your own, but it feels so real. The images play inside your head on loop like a movie often cropping up at the worst times. The worst time was when Jason died. Although when he returned he was physically healed, he was still struggling; scarred by the memories that haunted him. So, when he started recklessly patrolling and you had offered to heal him, you took away as much of it as you could.

Sometimes it was the memories that hurt more than the actual wounds themselves. To see and feel what they had been through broke you completely. The torment that Jason had been through that you had seen was something you couldn’t even muster up the words to describe. You couldn’t imagine what he went through and you would never be able to heal him completely, but you were glad you could help him as much as you could. Glad you could take away any of their pain even if it meant that you had to feel it for them.

They didn’t know this. You had kept it somewhat hidden from them. The vigilantes knew you could heal wounds, but they didn’t know that you took on the injury. And you wanted to keep it that way because you knew that if they found out they would just stop you from doing it and you would be left feeling useless on the sidelines.

Nightwing dropped down beside you, noting your slight limp as you fought against the criminals. They seemed to be thinning out now with the five of you fighting them. They either fled or dropped to the ground like flies.

“You alright?” He asked, swinging a right hook and sending a guy wielding a crowbar. You winced at the sight of it, hit with Jasons memories again.

“Fine.” You grunted out as you blocked another oncomer.

“You sure? You’re favouring your left side.”

God damn you, Grayson.

“Fine. Just took a hit is all but it’ll heal quickly. You know me.”

He eyed you uncertainly. He knew you were lying but he dismissed it. Dick had always had a suspicion that more happened to you than you let on but he had never pressed you to talk about it. Though, he was going to find out much sooner than you had hoped.

You stared at the scab on your thigh in the mirror; it would soon become a new addition to the tapestry of scars that covered your body. It was ragged, torn and an ugly reminder of the blade that stuck out of the young Wayne’s leg. Some of the scars that marred up your smooth skin were yours, though most of them once belonged to the boys.

The scars flecked almost every inch of your body, all varying in size and shape. Some were small and round, others long and jagged and some in between. And though the scars saved your boys, you couldn’t sometimes help but wish that you weren’t left with them. Sometimes, it all became too much. For example when you healed a wound that had been forced upon them in such a brutal way that you would lie awake for hours with your eyes squeezed shut tight as you curled up on your bed waiting for the haunting memories to pass. Although your abilities meant that you healed quicker, sometimes you were still left managing the wound for days as it healed whilst still trying to hide it from the boys. You suffered in silence, often pondering if you should just tell them… but you never did. And it was worth it because seeing them okay put a smile on your face.

You didn’t like to talk much about your abilities and how they worked, no matter how much they pressed you. Everytime the topic was brought up you would go quiet, or quickly change the subject, trying not to let the feelings resurface. You buried them deep to keep your secret.

“You okay, kid?” Jason frowned as you walked into the library, poorly disguising the last of your limp. He was lounging on one of the couches as he delved into one of Bruce’s many hardbacks.

“Yeah I’m fine.” you dismissed, running your finger over the spines as you scanned the shelf for something to read to try and give yourself something to do for a few hours while your leg continued to heal.

“You said that earlier.” Dick poked his head around the door, noting the way you tilted most of your weight onto your left foot as you stood on your toes to grab a book. “Your leg still bothering you?”

“A little, but it’s healing.” You shrugged, taking your book over to the couch and settling beside Jason.

The eldest Wayne frowned, forcing wrinkles onto his forehead. “Shouldn’t a hit have healed by now?”

You cursed mentally. “It was a nasty hit.”

“You know, thinking about it didn’t Damian take a knife to the thigh?” Jason asked.

“Yes.” Damian appeared in the doorway with Tim. “Y/N healed me though.”

“Strange.” Dick noted, tilting his head to look at you. The four of them had had a suspicion for a little while that something was going on. The way you avoided the topic was like having a sign waving above your head.

“... it’s just a coincidence.”

“Just like the time you injured your arm training after healing my broken one?” Tim had you stuck.

You bit your lip in the silence of the room.

“Fine. Maybe I haven’t been totally honest with you all.”

Jason sat up and leaned forwards in his seat “Go on.”

You took a deep breath, preparing for their onslaught as you revealed the truth. “When I heal a wound, it doesn’t just…vanish.” The four of them watched you intently and you could feel a sheen of sweat try to break out across your forehead. “It transfers to me instead.”

Damian stared at you agape “But…”

“You’ve healed us so many times.” Dick said. “That's gotta be…”

Tugging your hoodie over your head, you revealed the scars to them for the first time. Tim had to hold back his shock.

“Oh y/n/n…” The vigilantes all looked at the countless scars that covered your skin.

“They’re not all yours.” You tried to lighten the mood, albeit it seemed to have little effect.

“How have we been letting you do this? We should have know-”

“Stop.” You shut Tim down. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. Healing you is… special. Making sure that you guys get to live another day is more important to me than anything.”

“But you’re hurting yourself…” Damian said shyly, feeling incredibly guilty.

“It doesn’t hurt bad. My accelerated healing means I can get rid of wounds that would take weeks for you to heal in a number of days. Sometimes hours. I like helping you.”

The boys narrowed their eyes at you. They were sceptical however they could see the truth behind it. You were selfless; always giving to others in need. They didn’t like that you were being hurt because of their recklessness, and they were angry with themselves that you felt you couldn’t tell them the truth, but they could see the reasoning behind it.

“Besides” You added. “I think the scars are pretty cool. Like a piece of artwork. And I can use them to blackmail you in the future.” You grinned.

“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes. “They are pretty cool though…”

There was a nod of agreement.

“Thank you. y/n/n.” Dick said. “I honestly don’t know what we would do without you.”

“Bleed out and die probably.” You joked and he hummed with laughter.

“On a serious note,” Dick added “We have seriously got to stop getting hurt so much.”

🦇 Batfam Taglist:

@mamapucket

@xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys

@aestheticdaisies

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corroded-hellfire · 11 months ago

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Gimme A Break - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with my beloved @munson-blurbs

Summary: A trip to the grocery store has you running into some familiar faces--and one not so friendly.

Note: Let Brittany bashing commence!

Warnings: talk of body image

Words: 2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

In your opinion, there’s no such concept as a bad time for soup. The dead of winter, the stifling heat of summer—it’s all good.

The fall weather that’s rolled into Hawkins has inspired you to try your hand at making some from scratch, bringing you to Bradley’s Big Buy on a Sunday afternoon. You’re inspecting a bag of carrots for freshness and tossing them in the cart haphazardly when you feel a sudden thump against your leg.

“Wha—” you start, ready to confront whoever was careless enough to ram into you. Your scowl immediately softens when you see the two smiling faces looking up at you. “Oh, hi boys!”

Luke, unsurprisingly, is the one who ran into you at full speed. Ryan is a few paces behind his bull-in-a-china-shop brother, but his expression is equally happy.

You crouch down to give each of them a hug. The way they both wrap their arms around you radiates love’s warmth, and it melts your heart.

“Are you buying anything good?” you ask, knowing they’ll be wholly unimpressed with your basket full of vegetables.

Luke nods vigorously. “CHICKEN NUGGETS!” He bellows, drawing irate glares from nearby shoppers. “Daddy has a cool-pon.”

“It’s coupon,” Ryan says with a gentle roll of his eyes.

You’re still stuck on the mention of their dad. Eddie’s here? And you don’t have on a lick of makeup—of course.

“Where is Daddy?” you ask, looking up and down the aisle in the unlikely event that you missed him.

“He’s uh…” Luke trails off, scrunching his nose as he searches for his dad. Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” crinkles over the PA system after being interrupted by a call for assistance in the frozen food department as Brittany appears at the end of the aisle.

An irritated voice calls out from the end of the aisle. “What’s taking you two so—oh. You’re here.” Brittany crosses her arms over her chest, huffing out an impatient sigh when she spots you.

Luke pipes up, still attached to your leg. “We can’t find the asper-, uh, aparag, the um…”

“Asparagus,” Brittany corrects him as if the five-year-old should be able to pronounce words perfectly by this age.

“Oh,” you say, turning to exactly where you know the asparagus is. “Here you go.”

Ryan gladly takes it from you with a grin. Huh, maybe there is a Munson who shares your affinity for veggies. It certainly isn’t Luke—or Eddie, for that matter.

“You’re the best!” he says cheerfully, placing it in the cart that Brittany’s been pushing.

“Boys.” It almost sounds like she’s admonishing them for being kind to you. She looks at you with unkind eyes. “Maybe you should work here instead of for us,” she says, trying to play it off as a joke, but you can tell there’s some underlying threat.

Luke is not amused by this, his little fingers digging into your leg as he clutches onto your jeans even tighter. “No! She has to be our babysitter forever and ever!” He pouts, eyes welling up with tears at the mere mention of you leaving.

“Maybe not forever,” Ryan points out, always the practical one, “because one day we’ll be grown-ups with our own kids—”

“And then she can babysit them!” Luke declares, proud of his idea, loosening his grip on you.

Brittany shakes her head, immediately eschewing the notion. “C’mon, let’s get going,” she says tersely. “Dad’s gonna be wondering where we are.” The cruel curl of her lip serves as a painful reminder of what’s hers; more specifically, what isn’t yours.

As if on cue, Eddie meanders out from a nearby aisle, a canister of quick oats tucked under his arm. He’s wearing gray sweatpants that lay low on his hips and leave little to the imagination. Somehow on this brisk autumn day you have sweat beading along the back of your neck as you take him in.

“You’re So Vain” fades out on the speakers above, only to start playing the infectious opening notes of “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel.

“Britt, I couldn’t find the old-fashioned kind, but will this—oh, hey,” Eddie says, stopping in his tracks to acknowledge you. “You here to make sure these gremlins don’t lock themselves in the ice cream freezer?”

Luke grins, lets go of your leg, and takes your hand proudly in his as if it was somehow all his doing that you’re here in the grocery store the same time as they are.

“Hi,” you greet before realizing you have a dopey smile on your face. “Uh, yeah. And it seems like I got here just in time. This one here almost had the lid off a rocky road before I caught him.” You shake Luke’s small hand in your own for emphasis and the boy wrinkles his nose up at you, the spitting image of his father.

Eddie chuckles and goes to respond, but his wife cuts him off.

“I guess those oats will work,” she says as she takes the canister from him—or snatches it, more like. “Come on, we didn’t even get to the dairy section yet.”

“Or,” Luke ventures, his hand gripping yours tighter in the chill air of the produce section, “we could get a cow in the backyard and get our milk that way.”

Eddie chuckles. “Hard pass, little man. We had to bring in reinforcement just to handle you and your brother.” He looks over and winks at you.

It takes all of your strength and will power not to immediately vomit right then and there at the wink. Such a simple gesture from this man has you ready to lose all control of your body.

Brittany huffs, clearly annoyed at the interaction. How dare anyone be having a conversation in her presence that doesn’t revolve around her?

“Well, we need to keep shopping.” Brittany turns on her heel, spotting a red bag of fun-size KitKats in her husband’s other hand. “And put that back. The last thing you need is more junk food.” Her eyes flit down to his stomach, which has softened with time and a steady diet of pretzels and Mountain Dew.

The tips of Eddie’s ears turn pink, and he tries to hide them behind his curls. He clears his throat, the whole time avoiding your eyes, and tosses the KitKat bag onto an empty spot of a nearby shelf. He’s clearly embarrassed, but you’re seeing red. Fury scorches you from the inside out and it’s so potent that it might just dry up some of the vegetables around you. There have been many times in the past where you’ve wanted to tell Brittany off, but this one takes the cake. The callous yet truthful words rest on the tip of your tongue, but you know it would only make the mess bigger for everyone involved. You don’t want to add any extra stress for Eddie. Brittany is the one who should be embarrassed for treating her husband that way, not Eddie. That man is drop dead gorgeous and he still would be if he inhaled a bag of those KitKats every single day.

Leave it to Luke to break the tension that he wasn’t even aware of was surrounding them all on this produce aisle. The young boy spies a can of spinach on the shelf and snatches it up, staring at it with wide eyes.

“Will this make me strong like Popeye?!”

“Sure, sweetie,” Brittany says, not paying any attention to her youngest son whatsoever.

Brittany turns and heads towards the end of the aisle, no goodbye to you, no saying where she’s going, just leaving and assuming the guys will follow behind her.

“We’ll see you tomorrow after school, right?” Ryan asks, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

“I’ll be there,” you assure him, booping the tip of his nose. He gives you a quick, strong hug around your middle.

Luke, still holding on to the can of spinach, blows you an overdramatic kiss which you pretend to almost drop into a bed of lettuce. The little boy giggles and it’s one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard.

Eddie takes a step closer to you, still feeling the sting of embarrassment, and speaks in a soft voice. “We, uh, should get going.” Eddie clears his throat. It kills you to see how Brittany zaps the life out of him. “I’ll—we’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’ll be there,” you promise once again.

Eddie offers you a small smile before turning to his sons.

“All right, come on. Let’s catch on up to Mom.”

The boys don’t look too enthused about that, and it warms your heart that they’d rather stay here and hangout with you.

“Bye guys,” you say, waving to all three of them as they head down the aisle.

Once they’re gone you heave a heavy sigh. Being in Brittany’s presence for two minutes was exhausting enough, you have no idea how those three manage to live with her.

You try to refocus on your shopping, however impossible that might seem now. When you’re checking over the items you already have and look back up at the shelves, you spot the red KitKat bag that Eddie had wanted to buy. There’s no hesitation at all to pick it up and add it to your pile of groceries.

The Munson car isn’t hard to spot as you step out into the parking lot of the store. You see it almost every day and the gorgeous, familiar looking man loading groceries into the trunk is also a huge indicator.

Not surprisingly, Brittany is in the car while Eddie does all the work. The boys are in the backseat and from what you can make out of their silhouettes, they’re arguing with one another. They’re kids, they’d probably be more of a hindrance than help to Eddie. But Brittany could at least be doing something.

Steeling your nerves, you take a deep breath and head over to him.

“Eddie?”

His head whips around. “Hey,” he says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod, summoning all of your courage and handing him the candy. “You left these on the shelf.” You try to play it off casually, but the slight tremble in your voice gives your nervousness away.

He starts to take them but pulls back. “I probably shouldn’t,” he mumbles, shoving his hand into his pocket. “Britt’s been on me to lose the ‘dad weight’ for a while.”

You shake your head, mostly to keep from opening your mouth and saying something about his wife that you’ll regret.

“I think you look good,” you say. “Um, like, you don’t need to lose any weight.” You’re perfect the way you are, you ache to tell him, but you shouldn’t. You can’t.

Eddie senses that you have words unspoken, but he doesn’t press further. “Well, um, thanks.” He takes the bag and opens it, grabbing two before giving it back to you. “Can’t get caught,” he explains with a laugh.

You grin at him, an idea already taking form. “I’ll bring one each day I babysit. Sneak it in like contraband.”

“As long as the boys don’t find it first,” Eddie chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “The last thing they need is more sugar.”

You agree with a laugh. “Deal.”

Eddie tucks the KitKats into his jacket pocket.

“Thank you, by the way,” he says softly.

“No problem. Just some candy,” you shrug.

He shakes his head. “No, it…” he trails off. “Just…thank you.”

You smile as he ducks into the driver’s seat, and you walk back to your own car. As you pack up the back with your groceries, you mentally calculate how long this bag of KitKats will last if you bring Eddie one every day that you work. You purse your lips as you slam the trunk closed.

“That’s not nearly long enough for my liking,” you mumble to yourself as you slip into the driver’s seat.

Once you put the key in the ignition, the car rumbles to life and the purr of the engine sounds like it’s coming from your brain as it churns out an idea.

You smile to yourself and shift your car into gear.

“Guess I’ll just have to buy some more bags of candy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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milliesfishes · 3 months ago

Note

i know it’s been forever (a day) bc i’ve been busy being my own sugar mommy (working my summer job) but i have all the thoughts

like ttpd (the song) is giving best-friends-but-maybe-something-more reader + coryo until the games and then he’s being all cozy with lucy gray

and readers over here like i know everything about you and who you want to be, i’ve been here for you all along, if u really think that any other girl will be even half the partner i’d be then good luck babe

(who else decodes you? / who’s gonna hold you? / sometimes i wonder if you’re gonna screw this up with me? / i laughed in your face and said)

im sorry in advance for all the world vomit lmao

౨ৎ꣑ৎWho Else Decodes You?౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: injury, jealousy pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: you know coriolanus like the back of your hand, and yet he runs to another girl the first chance he gets author’s note: so sorry this took forever! I needed very specific vibes for this and I hope it's good! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Your sheets were silken, soft to the touch, but they felt better when he was lying next to you.

Opening your eyes just a hint, you reveled in the glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. Coriolanus was sprawled out next to you, remaining deep in the throes of sleep. His curls were a messy halo across his forehead just as they were every morning, and you delighted in the sight of him, knowing he'd smooth his hair as soon as he awoke.

The broad plane of his bare chest was vastly uncovered by the comforter, and you traced your finger down the bump of his ribs. The heat of his skin exuded from his body like a fire in the hearth, warming you right up just by being next to him.

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you let your hair fall to the side as you studied him like a book. If your Coryo was a genre he'd be a classic- renowned and readable if one took the time. Not many people did.

His lashes fluttered like butterfly's wings, and you shut your eyes. No need for him to know you'd been staring at him.

Shifting under you, Coriolanus made a quiet noise as he emerged from his dreams, one of his big palms rising to rest at the crown of your head. The intimate gesture was a spark in your quiet heart.

Thumb raking through your strands, his other hand settled by yours on his stomach, clasping your limp fingers in a delightful knot. At that, you allowed yourself to unfold your eyes, looking up at him in an innocent way.

Coriolanus had never been one to smile easily. His face was hardened all too often, by the survivalist ways of his life in the cutthroat world of the Capitol. But now the corners of his lips were lifting just barely upwards as his cerulean eyes drowned yours in the best possible way.

"Morning," he whispered, voice slightly raspy with the cobwebs of sleep. Coriolanus rubbed your arm and dug his nose into your hair, inhaling softly.

The mornings with him were sacred, locked away in a vault for your darkest hours. At your insistence, he stayed the night often. His trust was not an easy thing to come by, and yet you were in possession of it. You knew of his living conditions, of the Snow's maintenance of their surname's image. It was a gift how at ease he was with you. So much so that he was able to slip smoothly into unconsciousness with you right there in his arms.

Friends. Best friends. That was your title and yet you were tangled in the sheets of your bed like lovers. And you couldn't ignore the familiar flutter in your heart when he peered down at you, usually icy eyes softened.

"Can we stay here all day?" you questioned in dulcet tones, tracing a patch of his skin. "It's so cozy."

"We've got to get to the school," Coriolanus shifted, sitting up in the bed and bringing his hand to his forehead. "The Reaping-"

"Yes," you murmured, rubbing his side. Your satin-like hair was a waterfall over your shoulder as you propped yourself up on an elbow. All Coriolanus had been able to talk about was the Reaping in the past few weeks. Ever since he'd been selected as a Mentor.

It was a high honor, although it came with a heavy price. To groom a child for death as a spectacle was no easy thing. You had opted out of the selection of students poised to be mentors, personal fear and heartache for the soon-to-be victims eating at your psyche.

You were privileged in that way, you knew. Coriolanus didn't have a choice if he wanted any hope of attending the University. He was proud, your boy, refusing to accept even a penny from your family's expansive funds. Through your late father's investments, you could have paid to keep the both of you comfortable in a penthouse in the city, tuition and food the furthest of worries.

Watching him now, donning his dress pants and shirt, lacing up his too-small shoes, you wished he would let you help. The white shirt was exquisite, clandestine work by Tigris- his fashion-centric cousin. Coriolanus had a talent for making anything he wore appear regal- a byproduct of his last name no doubt.

Rising, you disappeared into the closet to find a dress appropriate for the event. Though you were not a mentor, all students at the Academy were invited to the celebration. You would have begged your way in anyways, eager to watch your best friend receive his tribute.

Rifling through the selection, you decided on a black number with thin straps, hugging your figure and flaring out subtly toward the bottom. Removing your nightdress, you tossed it over a chair and stepped into the other garment, zipping it up as high as you could.

When your fingers were unable to stretch any further, you poked your head out, calling, "Coryo? Would you help me?"

His shoes clicked on the wooden floor as he approached, one hand steadying you on your waist while you drew your sheet of hair over your shoulder. The zipper crawled up your spine as he closed the gap between fabric, reaching over to brush your hair back behind you when he finished.

The mirror positioned in the corner of the room painted a picture that passerby couldn't possibly guess the context on. Coriolanus and you cut a striking pair, making your foolish heart leap at the idea.

Squeezing your shoulder, Coriolanus left you to ponder at your reflection, digging through his school bag for something. It had been a miracle you'd been able to convince him to spend the night at all with how meticulous he was. But your honeyed musings about how he needed a good dinner and night's rest before the ceremony had won him over. Before you'd known it he'd been passed out under your blankets with a belly full of roast, lulled by the motions of your nails scratching his head.

Inside and out, you knew him, had memorized him better than any textbook passage, could unravel his tangled secrets quicker than any detective. He took your heart by storm.

Slipping your feet into your shoes, you picked up your purse and checked your recently finished makeup one last time, casting a glance at Coriolanus, who was fiddling with his curls again. You capped your lipstick with a snap, dropping the tube into your bag and turning to him. "Ready?"

When he looked at you, his oceanic eyes held a promise of storms. You reached your hand out and took his, offering the tiniest smile. "It's going to be okay."

Closing his eyes briefly, he inhaled once and gave a single nod. If you'd put your hand to his chest, the stampede of his heart under it likely would have worried you. The tendrils of hope crept between you as you tried to will your words into him.

Sticking his hand into his bag, Coriolanus withdrew twin flowers you recognized as his grandmother's precious roses- the special rooftop ones reserved for special occasions. Snapping the stems, he fixed one behind your ear, thumb featherlike. The gesture swelled your chest and warmed you from the inside out. "For me?"

"The Grandma'am insisted." There it was- that almost smile that told you the flower was coming from him too. Coriolanus steadied it in your hair, the petals brushing you like a kiss.

"Thank you," you whispered, touching your lips to his cheek. A slight flush brightened his face, and he looked away as your hands came to the one of his holding his own rose. Gently easing it out of his grip, you fastened it to his vest, taking care not to scratch his white shirt with the pin. Ironing out invisible creases with your hands, your eyes found his once again.

Friends. And yet it didn't feel like it. Not one bit. Electricity seemed to crackle in the line connecting your gazes, and you swore something flashed across his irises. The rose didn't mean nothing.

Half-dazed, you tentatively unearthed the feeling stored in a drawer stuffed to the brim with secrets. One more passionate and powerful than you were used to stood tall above the rest.

Though it was strong, it revealed itself in memories; quiet, simple things so delicate they could be gone in a blink. This feeling was rain pattering against the roof, it was flowers blooming between the cracks in the sidewalk. It was blue eyes and golden curls and a try-not-to-smile that arranged itself in a way that bloomed through the walls of your heart.

Somehow you had known what it was all along. And yet now its foretelling had come to pass.

What if he loved you too?

The Reaping was a lilted event highlighted by the revelation of Coriolanus' tribute.

District Twelve. You could have strangled the Dean lost in the throes of his beloved drug for what he'd so obviously done: set Coriolanus up for failure. From where you were sitting you could see the resignation on his face as he watched the Lucy Gray Baird in her rainbow dress part the raggedy crowd like the Red Sea.

Then she slipped a wriggling snake hidden by her hand down a girl's dress, and your attention was piqued. Bold. Maybe there was optimism yet. Coriolanus stood sharply; eyes glued to the screen as he watched his tribute dragged up the stage by stone-faced Peacekeepers. The mayor's hand struck her face, and she fell to the ground graceful as a ballerina, hair hanging over her cheeks.

And then she began to sing. Lilted as a bird's song, clear as a bell, her voice rang over the crowd, rich enough without background music. Lucy Gray's chorus needed no accompaniment.

The entire hall was entranced. Your eyes tore from the sight, instead watching Coriolanus. Even from where you were sitting you could see what you'd tried to instill in him only hours ago.

Hope.

The time following was a film reel of interconnected pictures. In later days you would recall them and only be able to see brief flashes of memory.

Coriolanus behind the bars of the Capitol Zoo's cage. Lucy Gray Baird standing tall and proud despite her forced surroundings, her rainbow dress a bright contrast to the rest of the setting. He had told you his plan to greet his tribute, but you'd had no idea of his exertions until you saw him on the evening news. Even if his Academy uniform hadn't been such a bright red, you would have known those curls anywhere.

She was stunningly lovely standing beside him- a flower of adversity if there ever was one. A flower with a song. Speaking of flowers, one of his was tucked behind her ear just as it had been with yours the morning of the Reaping.

A pang echoed in your chest at the sight of him, holding hands with her and greeting the citizens of the Capitol who'd come to gawk at the forced participants of a cruel game.

You had turned off the television at that, bringing your knees to your chest. He was just helping her. That was his job. He only wanted her to trust him in order to reach his end goal. Was it manipulative? Maybe. But it wouldn't matter if she won. It would be good for the both of them.

Coriolanus kneeling beside Lucy Gray, sharing a sandwich with her. You hung back behind the crowd, having accompanied him but not wanting to scare her away. He spoke in hushed tones to her, and you watched with a sinking heart as a smile split his face like a sunrise at something she said. A full smile.

After that, you saw him rarely. He was either at the zoo with her or at home writing things up both for the games and for school. Coriolanus used to do all his work with you by his side.

The media outlets were fond of showing him and Lucy Gray, reporting on the Snow boy and the songbird. You had tried to ask him about his affiliation with Lucy Gray, but he assured you it was pure strategy. He didn't know you loved him, though.

Coriolanus hadn't spent the night since the Reaping. The side he usually slept on grew cold. It still smelled like him, and that was a haunting thing. Whenever you asked him over he cast a net of excuses, claiming he needed to go see Lucy Gray in the morning or that the mentors had a strategy meeting.

As you stared up at him, with his eyebrows drawn taut, mouth no longer offering even a half-smile, a feeling of dread awoke in your heart.

Avoidance was your friend in the next week. The buzz of the games was impossible to ignore, and your feelings became matted in a bloody tangle. Tidying your room, you found little things he'd left behind. A pen, a spare shirt, a notebook. Opening the cover of the latter, you saw his neatly scribbled notes. For a moment you pretended it was a love letter.

It all came to a heading after the attack in the arena.

Everything was a blur after you received the news. Your feet were moving before you knew it, stumbling down the stairs. The driver on the way had to have been breaking every speeding law, but it still wasn't fast enough for you.

You didn't have any idea how you made it up to him. There was no recollection of asking someone where he was, or even a room number. But somehow you were at his side, taking his clammy hand in yours and collapsing to your knees beside his bed.

Tigris told you in a hushed way of how rebels had somehow bombed the arena, how there was a fire and rubble, and Lucy Gray had pulled him out of it. His leg had been in worse shape earlier, but it would heal soon.

A surge of gratitude shot through you. Thank heavens for Lucy Gray. Coriolanus was stirring now, his hand gripping yours as his lids revealed those oceans you'd missed so badly. And now his half-smile was back. He murmured your name and you could have burst into tears.

"You're okay," you murmured, other hand coming up to smooth curls back from his face. The way you knew he liked it.

"What happened...Lucy Gray..." he muttered, sitting up. A cold feeling of disheartenment washed over your heart. You opened your mouth to respond when the sound of music echoed from the hospital television on the wall.

There she was. The answer to his question. Lucy Gray's voice poured from the scratchy speaker, singing about a tale of lost love, paired with her guitar.

Coriolanus swung his legs over the side of the bed, getting to his feet nearly in a trance. His lips were parted, eyes fixed on her. Donations were pouring in, likely the most of any other tribute. The look on his face was of pure awe. It was as if he'd watched an angel descending.

Your heart sunk below your feet. Tears pricked your eyes as the chilling fingers of want gripped your arms, pulling you back into the shadows. He was falling for her.

It hit you like a punch to the gut, and you wanted to curl up on the floor beneath you until the ground opened and swallowed you up. Your love was a disease now that you didn't want to cure anyways. Even if you did, there wasn't one in sight.

The program ended, and Tigris excused herself, telling you both she was going to find something to eat. You sat at the chair beside Coriolanus' bed where he'd resumed his spot, despondent in the chasm of your thoughts.

She didn't know him like you did. Every hidden desire and pain of his fit into the palm of your hand, and you protected them just as he did. Time had slipped through the cracks and buried you, every shred of history with him flashing through your mind.

Walking to school together. Him coming from a particularly hard class to where you were sitting and resting his head in your lap. At your family's dinner table, trying not to overindulge. Asleep beside you, whispering that he felt safe.

You had been in front of him this entire time, holding him and loving him beyond everything. And yet here he was, running to a girl he knew so little of. Sabotaging everything you wanted to give him.

Even through all this, you couldn't find it in yourself to hate her. Lucy Gray was in the business of making it out alive. Whatever means she used to attempt a win were out of survival.

It was as if you'd pricked your finger on one of his rose's thorns. As you looked at him, you had the thought that he was drawing out of reach. Your Coryo was nearly lost to you and there was hardly anything to do.

He looked up at you, reaching for your hand. Letting him take it, you kept your eyes on his face, thoughts distant as he spoke.

"I think she has a chance," he said, voice bordering on excitement. "I think she can win. It'll all work out."

Bittersweet, you nodded, eyes falling to the floor. "You make a good pair." Every word was soft, and you avoided his eyes.

"Hey..." Coriolanus squeezed your hand, and you raised your gaze back to him. His features were drawn in a sincere way, and your demeanor lightened just slightly at the sight. "I want to get the prize. Go to the university with you. That's what this is all for."

"You look at her differently than that." Pursing your lips, you stood and let go of his hand.

Coriolanus frowned, throwing aside the covers and standing. "She might be the answer to all of this."

"That's fine," you said, turning away. "If you want her-"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, taking your elbow and forcing you to turn and face him. "I leave my things in your room. I gave you one of the roses...you're special to me, you have to know..."

"Then why have you abandoned me?" you questioned quietly, the tension between you thicker than a rope. "You're letting go."

"I'm doing all this for you," he emphasized, and your eyes widened slightly. "You..." he swallowed; mouth pulled tight. "I need you. If you ever left...I don't know what would happen."

Usually you had to comb through the depths of him eyes to find what he was feeling, but now it was right at the surface. Brimming and calling you. What he felt wasn't nothing.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Coriolanus demanded, holding you by both arms now. His words were not aggressive, but worried.

A thousand things stemmed from your core and climbed your being like vines on a stone wall in a secret garden. Fabled to act, more likely to yearn, your feelings bubbled and churned in your ocean of secret lives. Maybe once you would have poured your soul out to him, but the words were withered from lack of use.

"You weren't mine," you said weakly, leaving it at that. "Not mine to have or to lose."

Something changed in his face. He loosened the bands of his hands on your elbows, instead taking one of your hands and putting it to his heart. It beat a steady rhythm against your palm, that quiet assurance that he lived. Searching your eyes, Coriolanus breathed, "I think I've always been yours."

A myriad of scars and knotted emotions emerged in you. All these hours, all of what had seemed like tricks. And there had been something there the entire time.

You felt it right then- the connection. He was a tongue you spoke fluently, and now you were grateful for it. It sparked a fire in your soul that encased a promise echoed in his eyes.

He loved you too.

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no-nameno-face · 1 year ago

Text

Auburn Thoughts (Pt.5) WITH AUDIO

[READ STORY FIRST]

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Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: With a hot shower, Ellie makes sure you feel better. Much, much better.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, Fingering (R!receiving), Choking (R!receiving), Praise, Commanding, Shower Sex

Author's Notes: basically just smut lmfao, sorry it took me so long to get part 5 out. I've been going through a lot of shit in my personal life so i wasn't able to write at all. Def in a depression but its okay lmfao. I kinda hate my writing in this but i wanted to push myself to start again, so this is me trying to get back into it. i think im gonna write a one-off next cause i really want to make an audio with ellie having a degradation kink... what do we think? anywhoooo... Thanks for being understanding. Love you guys <3

PART 4

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“Do you wanna hop in the shower?” she smiles before standing and walking towards my bathroom… turning to me when she reaches the door and tilting her head at me, playfully.

“Are you coming?”

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My body is on autopilot, hopping up and walking towards Ellie waiting in the doorway. My brain, on the other hand, is stuck on the idea of seeing her, exposed and drenched. Watching her body move through the water, seeing every part of her. My heart thuds in my chest.

Steam hits my face as I reach the bathroom door, slightly ajar. I take a deep breath and with shaky hands make my way into the bathroom.

My shower is blurred with steam, I see her silhouette through the foggy glass. My eyes trace her contours. They follow the lines of her skin, the subtle curve of her hips to the toned muscles of her arms visible even through the vapor. I want to engrave this image in my sketchbook forever, in my mind forever.

I turn and begin peeling off my shirt, then my pants. The pulsing in my ears is deafening, the tightness in my belly growing. As my clothes fall to the floor I look back to the shower, I see Ellies head snap away when I do. I flush at this.

Steadying myself, I walk to the sliding door and let myself in. Ellies under the hot water facing away from me, It's hard to peel my eyes from her. I hungrily observe her shoulders, strong and muscular, leading to her petite waist then the swell of her hips and, oh jesus. Her ass. I choke on my own spit and start coughing, real fucking smooth.

“You okay?” She turns to me smirking, my arms shoot to cover my chest. How is she so brazen, confident? I mean shit with a body like that I would be too. My eyes dart to her newly exposed skin, her small perky tits that sit perfectly on her frame. Then they quickly shift down her stomach to her… “Take a picture, it will last longer” she says with a sideways smile. My eyes shoot up to meet hers. Then it's her turn to explore me, I feel her gaze burn my skin and my cheeks burn in response. Her eyes leave me, turning back to put her face under the water. The heat in me is searing now.

“Your turn,” she says with a smile shifting so I could take her place under the hot water. I shift past her, feeling her nipples graze my back and my ass slide across her exposed skin. It takes every ounce of self control to not gasp at this small contact. The water hits me and it's warm, embracing. I relish in the feeling of it, pulling my hair over my shoulder letting it swell with water. Then I feel hands on my back, I startle at this.

“Woah woah, so jumpy.” she says with a smile in her voice. I turn slightly and see her with soap bubbles on her hands, “is this okay?” she asks.

“Shit sorry, yeah it's fine. Thanks El’s,” I turn back to the water, staring past the wall as her strong hands span my back. They shift down so slowly, she's paying attention to every part of my skin. As they approach my lower back she begins to circle over and around my hip bones, hands resting on my stomach. I wonder if she could feel the inferno I was radiating. Her hands went up my abbs circling the bubbles over my skin, now tracing under my boobs. I feel her body gently press against mine, I sharply inhale at the feeling of her skin flush with my own.

“Can I?” she whispers into my neck, her breath and gentle touch sending chills down my spine.

“Yes,” I sigh, barely audible. Then her hands, and the suds, are massaging my tits. My head tilts back onto her shoulder and I close my eyes as a small sound escapes my lips. She chuckles lightly at this.

“You're so easy to please,” her finger flips over my nipple and I jolt slightly at this. A curse spills from under my now heavy breathing. After a moment of her playing with me she firmly turns me so I am pressed against the wall of the shower. It's cold against my back, the sudden sensation is shocking. Thrilling. I look up at her through my lashes, lust radiating in my eyes. They are met with devious amusement.

Pinning me with one arm she traces the other hand across my collar, then down my sternum. She watches her hand make art on my skin. I close my eyes, relishing in the feeling of her fingers on me, gentle as a butterfly wing. Her fingers trace down and circle my navel, then lower. My eyes open, nervous and they are met with green. Begging for permission. I smile at her shyly and shift slightly making myself a bit more open for her taking. A silent yes.

She bites at her lip, her gaze darkens slightly and suddenly she's there, her fingers sliding through my slick, feeling me. My eyes shoot close at this unfamiliar contact. They run through my folds slowly then back to the top hitting my clit softly, I gasp at this. My hands grab at her, any part of her I can grab.

[START OF AUDIO]

“No one’s ever touched you like this?” she questions, I can hear the smirk on her tongue. She circles my clit with her fingers and my responding sounds are her answer.

“You’re so Innocent…” she sighs. Then slowly begins tracing back down my folds, my eyes open at the change in sensation searching for her, I'm met with darkness.

“Makes me want to wreck you.” suddenly her finger is pushing into me, i feel my walls tight around her. She pulls it out slightly and thrusts it back into me, firmly.

“F.. fuck! Oh my… Oh…” she's going in and out now, curving her finger into me, it's a feeling I've never known but one I never want to stop. The sounds are graphic, I feel myself soaking her knuckles as she lays into me.

“Does that feel good?” She asks knowing full well it does. She just wants to hear me say it. I can't get the words out. Her finger withdraws from me and she crooks her head, demanding a response.

“Yes! Yes it feels.. Feels so.. So good..” I say begging her to continue. I look at her with big eyes. “Please, please keep going.” she smiles at me, so ready for her taking. So eager for more. This time there's a soft stretch as she pushes two fingers into me, hitting my spongy spot sending moans from my mouth into the acoustics of the shower, they echo off the walls. She moves them at a slow firm pace. Harder. Deeper. My hips subconsciously rock into her hand, helping her reach further into me.

“You're doing amazing,” she smirks before her lips dip into my neck, kissing and licking the sensitive skin. My hands tangle in her hair, pulling lightly as they fumble through her locks. “Taking my fingers so well.” she whispers against my skin, her hot breath branding my skin. Her lips return with a gentle kiss, then a soft bite.

“Mmm… El’s” I say pulling her closer into me.

“Do you want me to go faster?” she pulls back and looks at me, one eyebrow raised. My eyes are wide watching hers,

“Yes,” I plea. Her eyes don't leave mine as her fingers pick up in tempo, my slick sounds now louder than the shower water hitting the floor. Her gaze is drunk with lust, pleased with the power she has over my body. I feel myself quake against her fingers, she feels it too.

“You like that?” she says, her free hand skimming up my torso, running over my erect nipples until her hand rests on the throat. She squeezes lightly, pushing my head back into the shower wall. Hot water trickles down my face, the pressure making me a bit lightheaded, I feel my eyes roll back.

“Yeah you do,” she sighs, tilting her head in amusement. Her assault on my cunt is ruthless, the rhythm, unbearable. My vision is turning blurry, with the stunted airflow. It's pure euphoria, but suddenly her grip on the throat loosens.

My hands shoot to her arm and pull her hand back to its place. Firmer than before, long fingers wrapped around the span of my throat. She huffs at this.

“You want more?” her fingers tighten, cutting off all air flow.

“Greedy girl.” her fingers swirl inside of me, my eyes open and everything is blurry and tinged white. My body is trying to gasp for air to no avail, and it feels so.. so.. good. My head is getting lighter, lighter, all I feel is her fingers, my ears ringing. Her hand releases and I take in a gulp of air. She grabs my jaw firmly.

“Say my name.” she commands. I am still gasping as her face slowly comes back into focus. Her fingers slam into me, hard. “Say it.” This time her voice is soft, this time it's her begging.

“Ellie!” I yell, “ellie.. ellie..” my voice gets softer as the pressure builds in my core. I feel like I'm going to implode.

“That's right,” she pushes her palm into my clit applying rhythmic pressure that creates a symphony with the beat of her fingers. I can't hold it anymore.

“Ellie… P.. Please.. I'm gonna. I'm gonna..”

“Yeah? You're gonna cum?” devious eyes. My body is clinging to the edge. “Go ahead baby,” she grabs my throat again and pounds into me.

“Cum for me” I explode around her, cursing through the high that overtakes me. Her fingers somehow hit my spot harder, faster, intensifying the sensation. Pleasure surges through me and leaves me shuddering in its wake, my knees shaking. She slows when I relax around her and slowly, so slowly, pulls her fingers out of me. I shiver at the sensitivity.

[END OF AUDIO]

She softly pecks up my neck, to my lips. Pulling back to look at me she brushes a damp piece of hair from my face behind my ear. “You're so pretty when you cum,” she smiles at me, holding back a laugh.

“Fuck off,” I playfully push her shoulder, embarrassed by my show of desperation. Her laugh escapes and its music to my ears.

“I'm just saying,” she says smirking, “It's hot.” she shrugs, turning to splash some water on her face. I cross my arms to cover my chest, oh my god. Thinking about her fingers, the feeling of them stretching me out. Her breath on my skin, her hand around my throat. “I'm gonna dry off, meet you out there” she says winking at me before climbing out of the shower and grabbing a towel off of the hook. I watch the silhouette of her leave and I melt to the floor.

The water cascades down my shoulders and back, my skin is so sensitive. What the fuck. What is she doing to me? My heart is pounding in my chest, and somewhere else. I like her. I like her too much. What does she think this is? Am I just a easy fuck? Is she just an easy fuck? That thought is gone as quickly as it arrives. She's more than that to me. I feel it. And it scares me. What am I to her? I raise my head letting the water coat my face. It's not that deep, I reassure myself. It's fine. I'm fine. She's fine. We are fine.

We?

Fuck.

#ellie smut #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou2 fic #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie x you #tlou2 #ellie williams audio #ellie williams fic #tlou2 smut #tlou ellie

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andshesaidwhat · 4 months ago

Text

Cherry - Clay Beresford

Summary: After the boundaries are pushed a bit too far, you and Clay agree that you both need to be more careful about adhering to the rules going forward. That lasts for all of about ten minutes…

Warnings: angst, descriptions of sex work, alcohol consumption, dry humping, coming in pants, nipple play, the pining is strong as ever.

Playlist | Masterlist

After another week went by with no sign of Clay, you began to wonder if he was busy with work or if he had just finally decided that you weren’t worth his time.

This was why you hadn’t wanted to be involved with someone like him. You didn’t like how much it consumed your mind. He was all you were able to think about lately.

You had replayed that last meeting in your head over and over, cursing yourself for pushing it so far but craving to feel that fire again. You hadn’t even touched him, but that connection had still been the most visceral thing you had ever felt.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror, wondering how you’d let yourself fall in this deep. You knew better than to get roped into the romantic ideology that men like him subscribed to, but things with Clay felt…different.

“He’ll be back, babes,” Frenchie spoke, coming up behind you and resting her chin on your shoulder.

You held her gaze in the reflection of the mirror, softly sighing as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m not worried about that, French,” you told her, shrugging dismissively. “He’s just a customer, that’s all. He’s no different than any other patron here.”

“Except for the fact that he owns a multibillion dollar corporation,” she said, quietly. When she saw your wide eyes, she scoffed, “What? I have eyes, doll face, I can recognize a celebrity when I see one. Besides, he’s been plastered all over TMZ enough times that he could get rich from the royalties, alone.”

“He…” you paused, glancing around to make sure the other dancers weren’t listening. “He just wants some privacy. I don’t think he wants it getting out that he’s spending so much of his time in a place like this.”

“You mean you don’t think it would fit his lovely public image?” Frenchie joked, snickering as she nudged you. “I’m joking, Cherry-pop. The man has every right to live his own life without it becoming the next big news story. You don’t have to worry about me running my trap. The other girls, however… They may not talk, but they’re certainly waiting for their turn with him. If you’re truly so tired of him, maybe you should let one of them take him off your hands.”

You felt a sudden spike of anger as the bitter taste of jealousy settled on your tongue. Frenchie smirked knowingly at you, laughing quietly as she shook her head.

“Just a customer my ass…” she snorted, walking over to sit down at her station. “You want my advice? Rules are meant to be broken — and I’m not just talking about the club.”

Her words sank in, settling heavy in your chest as you looked away from her. You sighed, shaking your head as you busied yourself with touching up your hair and makeup.

Sal walked into the back, clipboard in hand, and he idled on over to you. He looked up, glancing between you and Frenchie as he sensed the tense atmosphere.

“I don’t wanna know,” he said, sighing. “You’ve got a customer, Cherry. Room four. The kid’s gonna buy this whole place out sooner or later. Dunno what you’ve been doing to the boy, but keep doing it.”

As Sal walked off, you felt your heart begin to race. He was here. Oh, god…he was here. You didn’t know whether to feel ecstatic or to crumple in a complete panic. You settled for a dazed middle ground as you took one last look at your appearance and adjusted your lingerie set.

“Mr. Admirer awaits you,” Frenchie teased, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You glared at her with a huff, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

The hallway seemed to go on forever as you made your way down to the looming door of room four. With a shaky hand, you reached for the handle and pushed it open.

Your breath escaped you as you walked into the room and met the gaze of his dazzling blue eyes. Your heart was in your throat and your feet felt rooted to the ground. You had thought a week would be enough time for the effects to wear off…but no.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said, quietly.

Clay’s eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed as he spoke with just as much tenderness, “Cherry.” He walked toward you, his movements slow and deliberate. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every day since we last saw each other. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come back.”

The confirmation that he’d been thinking about you as much as you’d been thinking about him tugged on your heart.

“I was beginning to think you’d ran for the hills,” you joked — though your voice betrayed your doubt. You held his gaze until it became too much to bear, then you looked away and cleared your throat. “We, um…we may have pushed the boundaries a bit too far the last time we met. Going forward we should probably stick to the rules.”

“Yes,” Clay agreed, nodding. “We need to respect the boundaries.”

His eyes told a different story, however. They burned with desire, his gaze lingering on the curves of your lips. His fingers twitched by his sides, as if itching to reach out and touch you.

“I’ll try to behave,” he confirmed, his voice hoarse.

“Thank you,” you said, biting back every urge to say fuck it and break every goddamn rule in the book. “Besides, this will give you more time to ask your questions and tell your stories.”

“Oh, I have a story to tell you, Cherry,” he smiled, moving to sit down on the couch. His eyes never left yours as he leaned forward, propping his elbows onto his knees. “It’s a story about a boy who fell for a girl, but couldn’t have her. He would do anything to be with her, but she was out of reach. He would dream of her every night — of the way she looked at him and the way she made him feel. He would wake up every morning hoping that she would be there, waiting for him…but she never was.” He paused, his gaze intense as he looked at you with longing. “The boy would wonder — was it all just a dream? Is this a dream, Cherry? Are you just a dream? I’m beginning to think that I’ve made you up in my mind as some sort of psychotic delusion.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart pounded as you smiled at him, a hint of laughter in your voice as you asked, “You think I’m made up?”

“I think that maybe I’ve created you in my mind,” he breathed. “Maybe you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

You stared at him for a moment before you said, “Stand up, pretty boy.”

Clay rose from the couch and moved to stand in front of you, his body tense with anticipation. He was ready to do anything you might ask of him.

“Yes, Cherry?”

You moved closer until you were a breath away from him, peering up into his eyes.

“I may not be able to touch you, but there are still ways that I can prove to you I’m real,” you told him. “Can you smell the subtle hint of perfume on my skin?”

Clay’s eyes closed as he inhaled deeply. The sweet, faint scent set his senses ablaze as he sighed.

“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes opening to lock onto you. “I can smell you.”

“Good,” you smiled, leaning up to let your lips hover near his ear. “Can you hear my voice?”

“Yes,” he nodded, shivering at the soft sound of your whispers. “I can hear you.”

You walked around his frame, moving behind him as you stood on your tiptoes to gently blow on the back of his neck.

“How about that? Can you feel that?”

“Yes,” Clay gasped at the tickle of your breath, feeling goosebumps erupt onto his skin. “I can feel you.”

“See?” You grinned, walking back around him until you were stood in front of him again. “I’m real, pretty boy.”

Clay’s gaze was locked on you, his heart thudding inside of his chest. He could see you — the way you batted your lashes, the way you smiled at him.

A small, fond smile tugged at his lips as he whispered, “I suppose you are, Cherry.”

“Good,” you smirked. “Now that we’ve got that settled, why don’t you pour me a glass of that champagne you brought.”

Clay breathed out a laugh as he turned toward the ice bucket. He grabbed the bottle, popping the cork and picking up a glass. His hands trembled slightly as he poured the drink, watching the bubbles fizz to the top.

“Here you are, Cherry,” he said, handing out the glass for you to take.

You held his gaze, smiling as you reached for it. You weren’t paying close enough attention. Your fingers grazed his as you took the flute from him and you gasped, letting go of the drink as it fell to the floor with a loud clank.

Electricity zapped your fingertips. The touch was so small, but it had happened. You had touched him. After weeks of building up boundaries, your skin had finally touched his.

Your chest heaved up and down as you stared at him, wordlessly. His eyes were wide, his own breaths coming out in ragged pants. He could feel the electric current between you.

“Cherry,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

“I…” You attempted to speak, but words fell short. You were stuck in his gaze, feeling the remnants of his touch on your fingertips. So light, and yet…it was the catalyst to undo the final shred of your resolve.

Your eyes wandered down to his lips. His full, perfect lips…

“Cherry,” he breathed, his own gaze following suit as he leaned closer to you. “Please.”

There was nothing you could do to stop your body from moving on its own accord as you reached up to grab his face, bringing his lips down to yours.

Clay instantly sighed into your mouth, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close to him. His warmth enveloped you as he parted his lips, his tongue pushing past to taste yours.

The world around you melted away as your bodies melded into one another. The spilled champagne was long forgotten and the music faded into the sound of ragged breaths between you.

You were both lost in the moment, in the sensation of your lips touching, in the thrill of breaking the rules — of giving into your desires.

You pressed your body into his, relishing in the contact. You tried to memorize the way he felt against you — the way his hands roamed, the way he held you, the way he tasted.

He kissed you like he needed you — like yours was the only air he could breathe.

Without breaking the kiss, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch. He stumbled, falling down against the cushions and bringing you with him. He groaned as you straddled his lap, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as the kiss grew more intense. Your nails gently scraped at his scalp, earning a small shiver as his breath hitched. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, gently biting down on it.

Clay moaned, his hips surging upward as he pulled you closer. His large hands wandered up to brush over the cups of your bra, squeezing softly.

You whimpered against his lips, arching into his touch. You were craving more, craving him.

His fingers traced across the thin fabric, tugging lightly at your nipples. His actions elicited a soft cry from your throat and he hummed in satisfaction. He used his thumbs to circle the sensitive buds, letting his tongue dance against yours.

It was ridiculous how natural this was for him. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to play your body like an instrument he’d known his entire life.

You moaned into his mouth, feeling the arousal pooling between your thighs at his teasing touch. You could feel the ache burning within you — the need, the desire.

You adjusted in his lap until you could feel his erection pressing up against your core. You ground your hips down against him, gasping at the friction of him pressed up into you.

Clay groaned, his eyes snapping open to meet yours. The blue in his eyes was nearly non-existent, his pupils blown with lust. The intensity of his gaze would’ve made your knees buckle, had you still been standing.

“Cherry,” he panted, his voice hoarse. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathed, grinding against him. “God, I want this.”

Clay grabbed your chin, moaning softly at your response. “Then take what you want,” he demanded. “Show me how much you want me, Cherry.”

You held his gaze as you slowly moved your hips, watching his eyes flutter at the sweet friction. You leaned forward and captured his lips again in a slow, passionate kiss. You grabbed his chin and tilted his head, kissing across his jaw. You trailed your lips down his neck, nipping and sucking at his pulse point before soothing the area with your tongue.

You moved your mouth up to his ear and whispered, “You feel so good, pretty boy.”

Clay’s eyes rolled back as his head lolled to the side. He kept a firm grip on your hips, dragging you back and forth against his crotch.

“Yeah, Cherry,” he groaned through heavy breaths. “Feels so fucking good.”

Your soft moans against his ear caused his hips to buck as his mouth found yours again. You could feel the constant friction beginning to stir a steady thrum of pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach. Clay gripped your ass, kneading the flesh as he moved you faster against him. He returned your kiss with urgency, the desperation he felt evident in the way he devoured you.

“Fuck,” he panted. “You’re going to make me come like this.”

You held his face, giving him a knowing smirk as you continued to move against him. His eyebrows were knit together as he tried to ground himself, but the pleasure was too intense. His hips met yours at a particularly delicious angle and a whine escaped your lips. His eyes darkened further as he repeated the action, both of you desperately chasing a release. You gripped onto his shoulders for leverage, gasping for breaths as you felt your body humming with need.

Both of you were teetering on the edge, nearing the precipice. He rested his forehead against yours, holding your gaze as the space between you was a mingle of breathy moans.

He thrust upward, meeting you movement for movement as your bodies moved as one. The need to finish this, to reach the peak of pleasure, overwhelmed you both. You were caught in a dance of pleasure, of desire, of hunger. You danced with abandon, solely focused on the connection between you.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, pushing you further. “Finish the dance.”

You shivered the moment you heard the word baby slip from his lips. You whimpered, biting down on your lip as he coaxed you closer to the edge.

“I want you to finish it with me,” you panted, trying to hold on to the little restraint you had left.

“Anything you want, baby,” he nodded, a low moan sounding in his throat. “Anything you want.”

His hips surged up at the perfect angle, hitting you exactly where you needed it. He repeated the motion, reaching up to gently cup your face.

“Let go, Cherry.”

You held his gaze as your body soared over the peak, falling into a fit of pleasure as you gasped. Clay watched with rapt attention as you came, the sight alone sending him to his own release. He let out a strangled groan as he buried his face in your neck, clutching you tightly as you both rode out your highs.

Moments passed, your breathing ragged as your bodies both moved in sync. Finally, you both relaxed against each other. He pulled back, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

You held his face, tracing his swollen lips with your thumb before capturing them in a slow kiss. He hummed, contentedly, returning your kiss with sweet devotion as his hand cupped the back of your head.

The world was hazy as you both pulled back, gazing into each other’s eyes. You struggled to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

“Cherry,” he breathed, caressing your cheek softly. “That was…”

“Incredible,” you finished for him, smiling softly.

Despite your better judgment, you laid your head down on his shoulder and buried your face in his neck. You inhaled the musk of his cologne, breathing him in as you relaxed in his arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you close as he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

You knew that this was a mistake you’d be sure to regret, but you wanted to bask in the affection. You hadn’t known such comfort in so long…

“Tell me another story,” you whispered, clutching the fabric of his shirt in your fists — as if he’d fly away if you didn’t hold him down.

“Okay, Cherry,” Clay smiled, stroking your face with his thumb. “How about the story of a young boy who grew up with a dream to make something of himself — to continue a legacy. He worked hard, chased his dreams, and eventually found success…” he paused, his fingers trailing up and down your arm, “…but even with all of the fame and fortune, he still sought something more.”

“Why did he want more?” You asked, tracing the buttons of his shirt with your finger. “Was he unhappy?”

Clay’s smile faded slightly, his eyes losing their playfulness. “No, not unhappy,” he said, softly. “Just lonely.” His fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb rubbing your palm. “He found himself successful, but it wasn’t enough. There was a void he couldn’t fill, no matter how many people surrounded him. Then, one day, he met someone…”

You sat up in his lap, facing him. You held his hand, playing with his fingers as you waited for him to continue. He watched you intently, his heart in his throat.

“He met someone who made him feel alive,” he continued, softly. “Someone who saw past the fame and the facade. It made him realize that…maybe he’d been chasing the wrong legacy all along. Maybe a life well lived is less about the fortune, and more about the people you’d want to share it with.”

You held his gaze, feeling the threat of tears sting your eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but the shrill ring of the timer sounded — signaling the end of the session.

“Shit,” you cursed, grimacing. You looked at him with apologetic eyes and said, “I have to go work the rest of my shift.”

Clay’s heart sank at the sound — the sudden reminder of reality. He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want the moment to end.

“Yeah,” he whispered, softly, his voice filled with disappointment. “Work.”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy,” you told him, holding his face in your hands. “You’re the only rule breaker I’ll allow.”

You leaned down to place a gentle, slow kiss to his lips before climbing off of his lap. Your body immediately missed the warmth he provided. You felt hollow, having to step away from him again.

“Thanks, Cherry,” he whispered, smiling sadly. “I’ll hold on to that.”

He stood up and straightened his clothes, trying to shake off the lingering sensations.

You couldn’t help but glance down at his crotch, stifling a giggle at the wet patch that had formed on the front of his pants.

“You should, uh…you should probably cover that,” you laughed biting your lip.

Clay blushed, his eyes dropping down. He groaned, an embarrassed smile pulling at his lips as he untucked his shirt to hide the evidence.

“Yeah, I should,” he murmured, his cheeks pink.

You couldn’t resist reaching up to kiss him one more time. He sighed against your lips, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. He kissed you like he may never get the chance again. You could feel it down to your toes as he poured himself into this fleeting moment.

You pulled back and rested your forehead against his as he peered down at you.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He held your gaze for a moment longer before stepping back, giving you space. He knew you had to get back to work, and he respected that. Still, a part of him wished you didn’t have to go.

“I’ll see you around, pretty boy,” you said, taking one last long look at him before leaving the room and returning to the real world.

You missed him the moment he was out of sight. You wanted nothing more than to run back into that room and tell him to take you away — but that wasn’t a story you could write for yourself.

You changed into a clean costume, but you could still feel his touch against your skin. You never wanted to wash that feeling off of you.

When you walked back up to your vanity, Frenchie looked at you with a shit-eating grin.

“You little rule-breaker,” she whispered, poking your arm with a laugh. “The smell of sex is practically wafting off of you, babes.”

You couldn’t help but blush, frantically shushing her as you looked around. Realizing that nobody else was paying attention, you bit your lip and looked back at her.

“Do you think I’m taking a huge risk, French?”

“Yes,” she nodded, without hesitation, “and it’s about time you did.”

You sat back in your chair as her words sank in, unable to shake the feeling that this was the start of something that would change your life forever.

By the time you were gathering your things and getting ready to clock out for the night, Sal met you in the back with a wad of cash. You took it from him, seeing a tiny piece of paper sticking out between the bills.

When Sal retreated back to the front with a grunt of acknowledgment, you grabbed the paper and unfolded it.

For Cherry,

From Your Pretty Boy.

Your heart fluttered. Your pretty boy. The implications of that word alone were very dangerous.

You gasped as your turned the paper over, bringing your hand up to your mouth.

Across the back, he had scrawled his phone number. You stared at it long enough that you could have committed it to memory. Those numbers stared back at you, daring you to risk everything.

You wouldn’t call him. You couldn’t call him. That would mean breaching every rule in the book — both the club’s and your own.

No matter how badly you wished that they could, your worlds could not collide. There was a reason why Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. You both existed on opposite sides of life.

If you were to bridge that gap, to cross that divide, it would surely be your ruin.

————————————————————————

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callsign-rogueone · 6 months ago

Text

deja vu - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader part of Bodhi and Darling's story 💗 words: 2.9k 🏷: set in the year before Fourth Wing (Bodhi’s first year). one tiny book spoiler but it’s not stated explicitly, hurt/comfort, anxiety, imagined character death (in a nightmare). mild dissociation, anxiety, nausea, fighting (challenge match), one very small injury, canon-typical peril and danger.

“I love you,” Bodhi rasps, closing his eyes. “I’m so… sorry…”

“No, no, hey, look at me,” you beg, hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re gonna be okay, we’re getting you help, but you have to keep looking at me, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move or make any indication that he can hear you. He’s silent, perfectly still — he isn’t breathing.

“Bodhi,” you cry, “Bodhi, please don’t leave me. Wake up, please.”

His heart has stopped beating. The love of your life, the man who had sworn to protect you, who you had sworn to love in sickness and in health and through the test of time, until the end of your days, is dead.

You feel like the air has been squeezed from your lungs, your breaths coming in choked sobs.

“Wake, child,” someone interrupts — Sìoda. “It’s just a dream. It’s not real.”

You shake yourself awake, panting like you’d been running for miles. You look down at your palms, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering into the room -- they’re clean; not streaked with Bodhi’s blood. It was just a dream. Just a terrible dream, likely a product of the overactive imagination you’ve had your whole life, and your anxiety about the dragonkind exam you have tomorrow that you’re convinced you’re going to fail, despite spending all evening studying.

“Your mate, and all of your brothers and sisters are safe in their beds,” she soothes, “as are mine.”

Oh. You still aren’t any good at shielding, so she’s been getting all of your emotions through the bond — you’d likely woken her up with your distress.

“I’m sorry,” you say in a guilt-ridden whisper. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Don’t apologize, my child. Just breathe.”

You mop up your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, and focus on deepening your breaths, trying to relax your racing heart.

“There are still a few hours until formation,” she says gently. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

You lay back down, gazing at the wall of gray stone beside you, counting the bricks and trying to find patterns in the texture until the exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall back asleep.

Thankfully, your subconscious doesn’t torment you with any more cruel sights. You wake up to gentle November sunlight warming your skin and birds chirping — last month, a pair of doves had made a nest in the tiny alcove by your window.

You get dressed quickly, sorting out your hair and straightening your uniform. You’re in the middle of lacing your boots when there’s a knock at your door, the familiar rhythm that you know can only be Bodhi; like clockwork, he comes down the hall to get you every morning so you can walk to breakfast together.

You unlock the door with your mind, something you’ve been able to do for the last week, breathing a sigh of relief when he walks into the room unharmed and smiling. You hug him extra tightly, tucking your head into his neck and holding him a moment longer than usual, comforted by the steadiness of his breathing.

“You okay, Darling?” he asks, sounding concerned.

You hum in contentment. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You don’t mention the dream, because nobody wants to hear about their own death, and it would be silly to bother him with something you’ve already gotten over — though you know the image of Bodhi bleeding out in your arms on the floor of that empty classroom will likely be burned into your brain forever.

He gives you an easy smile, shouldering your bookbag and gesturing for you to head out the door.

You’re comforted by the normalcy of the day. It’s almost too easy, too smooth.

Everyone is present and accounted for at breakfast, in good spirits — as good as they can be, in your current situation. Battle brief passes quickly, with no reports of catastrophe, though you know that they likely aren’t giving you all the information they have. The dragonkind test you’d been so worried about is much easier than you’d expected, and you have the rest of the afternoon off until dinner.

You don’t object as your squadmates suggest you use one of the empty common rooms to study in — the same one you’d seen in your dream.

What would you even say? Sorry, guys, but can we pick somewhere else to be, because I had a nightmare last night that Bodhi died in this room?

You shake it off, repeating Sìodha’s words in your mind as you crack open your textbook: It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But then every word of the conversation going on around you starts to sound very familiar, like you’ve heard it before — like they’re reciting lines for a stage play.

It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But this can’t be a coincidence. There’s too many similarities for comfort; the location, the timing — the sun is just starting to set — the exact page that each boy’s book is open to… you remember that, remember Sawyer’s book being open to a page with that same illustration.

“Have you done number four yet? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Let me see.”

You predict their replies with nearly perfect accuracy — because you’ve heard this exact conversation before.

What if it is real? What if you’re trapped in an endless loop like in one of the novels you’d read, where the leading lady has to live the worst day of her life over and over until she figures out how to change it?

You could hardly bear to watch the light leave Bodhi’s eyes in that dream, and so help you gods, you are not going to see it ever again; you’re going to do something about it.

You’d read some theory in a philosophy book once that the flap of a butterfly’s wings can set off a chain of events that cause a hurricane. Would it be safer to stop this exact moment as it happens, or to interrupt now? Or was that dream really just a dream, and today will just be a normal day, or Basgiath’s version of normal, and you’re worrying over nothing?

“I don’t think that’s it. I think that’s the answer to number five, though.”

Those are the words. You’d almost missed them, too concerned about what’s going to happen in the next five seconds, but you should have just enough time if you act now. Sìodha seems to think so too, sending you a flood of urgency and panic.

You tackle Bodhi to the ground, wrapping an arm around his waist and putting a hand behind his head to cushion his fall as you both hit the floor. Your knuckles split on the impact, pain ripping through your hand, but all you can focus on is Bodhi underneath you — his eyes wide with shock, but still blinking up at you, his lips parted in a gasp, but not slick with blood, his heart racing, but not stopping.

There’s a shout from beside you, the clatter of metal against stone, and the sounds of a brief struggle. Dain has the would-be assassin pinned in a matter of seconds, Sawyer helping him restrain her and haul her away, leaving you and Bodhi alone, still tangled up in one another on the floor, his eyes locked with yours.

He finally manages to form words, but not a complete sentence, still stunned. “What… How did you… What?”

“I saw this in a dream last night,” you answer, your voice wavering. “I saw you sitting right here with me, talking to Sawyer. You said that same sentence, and then there was a knife in your chest.”

You look to your right, where it lays on the floor a few feet away — the exact shape and length as the one you’d dreamed of. “That knife.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen even further as he puts it together. “I think that was your signet,” he breathes. “You’re a visionary.”

You finally let go of him, moving to sit by his side on the cold stone of the floor and staring blankly at the dagger. It had missed either of you by at least three feet, but had you acted a second later, or not at all… That doesn’t matter, you suppose. What matters is that Bodhi is alive; that you’d been able to save him, because you’d known what was going to happen and you altered course at the last second.

You should be proud of yourself, but all you can think about is his words to you, and the implications thereof. If this is truly your signet, then you’ll have to watch this kind of thing happen over and over, and likely not just to Bodhi, but to the rest of your friends, too. But what if you can’t stop it next time? What if you see something happen to the twins? They’re a two-hour flight away, and you can’t abandon your post just because you had a dream that something bad happened to them.

Will any of your dreams be just dreams anymore, or are you going to see all manner of terrible things every night for the rest of your life? How are you supposed to distinguish between dreams and reality, between the sleepy inventions of your subconscious, or the magic of your signet?

“I’m sorry, child. It is a powerful gift to have, but it can be quite cruel.”

You can hear Bodhi speaking, likely a thank you and some soft reassurances, but you don’t process the words. You don’t respond to either of them, still not fully convinced that this isn’t another dream.

The warmth of his hand on your arm starts to pull you out of that numbness. “Talk to me, darling.”

“I watched you die,” you whisper. “There was nothing I could do. I just had to hold you, until… I thought it was just a nightmare, but then it started happening in reality, and...”

You shake your head, eyes welling with tears that you try to blink away. You tell yourself that there’s no reason to be crying, no use when he’s standing in front of you, alive, breathing and talking and holding your hand, but you can’t stop the flood of emotion; confusion and relief and horror and several other things you can’t put a name to right now.

“Hey,” he coaxes, “look at me.”

You focus your gaze on him, on those soft brown eyes that still blink at you, the rise and fall of his chest.

“I’m okay,” he says softly, wrapping your hand around his wrist, mindful of your scraped knuckles. He positions your fingertips over his pulse, pressing them into the skin so you can feel the gentle beat of his heart. “I’m alive, because you saved me.”

You nod silently, warm tears slipping down your cheeks.

He gathers you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back in soft, soothing motions. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, my darling girl. But the next time something like that happens, you tell me, okay? I don’t care if you wake me up at three in the morning, I want to be there for you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Good.”

You stay like this for a moment, just sitting with him and finding comfort in the warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his breathing.

“Do you want to go to the healers for your hand, or do you want me to wrap it up for you?”

“Want you to do it,” you answer softly, still feeling a little fragile. You don’t want to be away from him, even for a moment; you might work up the courage to ask if you can sleep in his bed tonight.

“Okay.” He presses a kiss to your temple, getting up to pack your bags.

Dain and Sawyer haven’t returned, likely still in Varrish’s office with the unbonded girl. You scribble a quick note to thank them, and to say that you’re done studying for the afternoon, leaving it on top of Dain’s book.

Bodhi picks up your bag, shouldering it along with his own.

He stops to pick up the dagger, sheathing it at his side, and you blink at him, confused. “You’re keeping it?”

“Of course I’m keeping it. It’s a memento of my first assassination attempt.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Only you could be so proud about someone wanting to kill you.”

He pulls you in closer, tucking you under his arm. “Not nearly as proud as I am of you. You should have seen it. I’ve never seen you move that fast in my life.”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, suddenly shy. “I was worried I’d lose you,” you say softly.

“You won’t ever lose me,” he soothes. “We made each other a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“So do I,” you say quietly. “So do I.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t have any more terrible dreams -- visions -- for the rest of the week, just a generalized sense of anxiety and insomnia, waiting for the next one and wondering what it’ll be, what terrible fate may befall one of your friends.

Each day that passes simultaneously soothes your anxiety and stokes it. If you aren’t dreaming of any terrible things, then they won’t happen, but what if you don’t dream them? What if you can’t see harm coming to them in advance, and thus can’t prevent it?

As soon as you enter the gym for Emeterrio’s class, it hits you again; that incredibly strong sense that something very bad is going to happen, very soon.

Bodhi sees your posture change, your normal relaxed and graceful presence tightening uncomfortably, and puts it together immediately, looking at you with concern.

“I have that feeling again,” you manage, forcing down the acid rising in your throat. “But this time, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“It’ll be okay,” he soothes.

“You don’t know that,” you reply, still looking around, surveying the gym for anyone that could pose a threat to you or any of your friends, which happens to be every single person in the room.

He takes your hand, and the feeling stops; vanishes completely, as if it was never there. Bodhi’s presence and his gentle touch have always been a comfort to you, often the only comfort you have, but nothing like that has ever happened before, a relief so intense and sudden.

Your gaze snaps to him, eyes widening. “How did you…”

He lets go, and the anxiety and nausea comes back in a tidal wave that nearly knocks you over. He lays a hand on your back to steady you, worried you’ll collapse, and the feeling dissipates again in the blink of an eye. Definitely not a coincidence.

“I think you turned it off,” you whisper. “When you let go, it came back.”

He blinks at you for a few seconds, processing. “Do you think that’s…”

“Laurent and Daneel,” Emeterrio calls.

Oh. That’s what you’re supposed to be worried about.

“Deep breath,” Bodhi prompts.

You inhale as deeply as you can before he moves his hand off of your back, and you aren’t hit with another tidal wave, just a normal, manageable level of anxiety appropriate for someone about to start a challenge match.

But as you step onto the mat, the anxiety fades into… something new. Confidence, like nothing you’ve ever felt before -- like you know you’re going to win this fight, without question, like it’s already been written down in the professor’s gradebook, and carved into history.

Interesting.

You lower your head to your opponent in respectful acknowledgement, getting a snarl in response. Well, then. Maybe this will be harder than you’d thought -- but you still have that unshakeable feeling that you’re going to come out on top.

She makes the first move, a punch that you’re able to dodge easily. She tries again -- and you step to the side without thinking, avoiding the blow by a few inches.

You continue dodging and blocking, reacting naturally, almost subconsciously, not even thinking about your movements.

You feel the same strange feeling you’d felt during the conversation leading up to Bodhi’s would-be assassination; you’d known all the words, knew what was going to happen because you’d seen it in a dream -- only you don’t remember dreaming any of this at all. It had been a total surprise that your name would be called with hers, the intense anxiety you’d felt being the only indicator, and even then, you’d been worried that it would be one of your friends in danger, not yourself.

Very interesting.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you realize exactly what is happening -- this is your signet at work, that familiar hum of power through your veins as you move, keeping you a few seconds ahead of everyone else in the room.

“You’ve had your fun,” Sìoda nudges, sounding amused. “Now end this, and end it well.”

The girl agrees. “Come on, you filthy fucking traitor! Fight me already!”

There’s a collective intake of breath from the quadrant as they wait for you to respond -- every eye in the gym is watching you, even the other cadets that are supposed to be fighting across the room, but you don’t move, don’t react to the comment, preparing for what’s going to happen next.

She hurls a dagger at you, enraged by your lack of engagement in this fight -- and your hand flies up to catch it, your fingers wrapping around the hilt and stopping it in midair.

Silence. Absolute dead silence.

You examine it for a second before you tuck it into your belt, looking back up at her. “Let’s fight, then.”

#bodhi and darling #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #fourth wing fanfic

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 1 year ago

Text

Not You

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: A few times your big brother Dean scares you.

Your big brother Dean would do anything for you, you knew that. He’d practically raised you, taking care of you when John wasn’t able to. He loved you and Sam more than anything, and you felt the same way about him.

But that didn’t change the fact that sometimes, Dean scared you.

…

You were hunkered down in the back of the Impala while Sam and Dean yelled at each other outside about their new buddy, Gordon.

You didn’t like Gordon, he freaked you out. And while Dean seemed to trust him completely, Sam was more on your side; hence their argument.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying, and you honestly didn’t care that much. That is, until Dean reared back his fist and punched Sam square in the face.

You scrambled to get out of the car before you noticed that Sam didn’t try to reciprocate. They exchanged a few more heated words before finally heading towards the Impala.

You were quiet that night, even after the vampires and Gordon had been taken care of. Your mind replayed the image of Dean punching your brother over and over again.

You felt ridiculous, lingering over something that even Sam seemed to have forgotten. But you couldn’t help but imagine that kind of anger directed at you. If he hit Sam—the brother that had been inseparable to him since basically birth—what did that mean for the others around him?

“Hey kid,” Dean’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. “I’m going for a supply run, wanna come with?”

“N-no I’m good,” you cursed the stutter that came out and forced yourself to calm down. You were only freaked because you’d been thinking about the punch, not because you were actually scared of Dean…

Right?

Your thoughts had once again distracted you, so when Dean made his next move you did something unexpected.

Dean raised a hand to run it through his hair, and your body reacted instinctively, following your current state of mind. You visibly flinched back, away from Dean, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Both Dean and Sam—who had looked up to watch the exchange at the wrong moment—noticed your reaction, and they responded in very different ways.

Dean seemed to freeze, his brows drawing together. Sam on the other hand reacted immediately, standing and taking Baby’s keys from Dean’s hand.

“Actually, I’ll go on the supply run. I need some air anyway, you two hang out here.”

He was gone before either sibling could protest.

The silence stretched on for several long minutes before you realized the problem. You were waiting for Dean to bring up what had happened, and he was waiting for you to bring it up. Considering how stubborn you both were, this could go on forever, so you decided to speak first.

“Why did you hit Sam?”

“Is that why you…” you dropped your gaze to your hands when Dean trailed off. “Hey,” he knelt beside the bed you were sitting on, his face flooding your vision. “C’mon, use your words.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you do that,” Dean demanded, his hand coming up to your shoulder. “Don’t be scared of me, not you. Not ever, I-I can’t…” Dean swallowed. “Don’t you ever be scared of me. I would never hurt you.”

“You hit Sam,” you argued.

“Sam’s different,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Well for one, Sam’s not a kid, ok? He’s bigger than me, he can take a hit.”

When you didn’t respond, he sighed.

“Look, I shouldn’t have hit Sam, ok? But things are going on right now, things I’d rather not explain. But I promise you, I’m never gonna hurt you. Can you just trust me on that?”

“Ok,” you muttered. I can do that.”

…

You were huddled on Bobby’s couch, your knees curled up to your chest as you pretended not to hear the sounds coming from downstairs.

Your big brothers had caught a demon that could lead them to Crowley, and unfortunately he didn’t feel like talking.

Dean had managed to get a few words out of the guy, so Sam and Bobby were following up on that lead, but it wasn’t enough.

You were so wound up that when your phone rang you nearly fell off the couch. You answered when you saw Sam’s name on the screen.

“Did you find anything?”

“Not quite,” Sam sighed. “I need to talk to Dean, but he left his phone here in the Impala. Can you get him?”

“You-you want me to…” you swallowed down the protest that you desperately wanted to make. “Um, ok, I’ll-I’ll go get him.”

You put Sam on mute as you padded down the stairs towards the sound of the demon screaming.

You hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, your body unwilling to move forwards. Frozen to the spot, you were forced to take in the scene in front of you. Dean, a knife glinting in his hands, had blood running down his arms and splattered on his shirt.

The demon was strapped down to a chair on top of a devil’s trap, bleeding from various cuts, his face steaming from the holy water Dean had just dumped on him.

But worse than the gruesome scene in front of you was the twisted smirk on Dean’s face as he splashed holy water onto his knife and sliced into the demon’s arm, causing more screaming. As soon as the screams died down, you were about to make your presence known when the demon suddenly caught sight of you. His wicked grin alerted Dean, and he turned to see what the demon was looking at.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took an unconscious step back. Upon seeing you, Dean’s features softened almost instantly, but that didn’t take away what you’d seen. His mouth was still twisted in that awful grin, and to have it directed at you was even worse. The scariest thing though, was his eyes. They weren’t angry, which would’ve been scary enough.

There was a cool, harsh indifference in his eyes, as though he could just as easily shake your hand as cut off your head.

But when he saw you, a light seemed to enter his eyes, and the smirk dropped, but the ghost of those twisted featured lingered.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” Dean muttered as he stepped close to you.

“Sa-Sammy called,” you mumbled nervously, holding up the phone.

Dean snatched up a wet rag from a metal table next to him, wiping some of the blood off his hands and taking your phone, but not before noticing how your outstretched hand was shaking. He followed your gaze to the demon behind him, who was watching your exchange with that awful grin on his face. When Dean turned back to you, though, he saw that you were now looking at him.

He couldn’t decide whether the terror in your eyes was because of him, or the demon.

Dean leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Go back upstairs.”

You gripped onto his arm, trying desperately to find comfort in the familiar gesture.

When he pulled away, you looked up into his eyes, trying to erase the memory of what you’d seen there.

“Don’t,” you were surprised at the strain in Dean’s voice. “Don’t look at me like that. Not you.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. You lurched forward suddenly, wrapping your arms around your big brother, ignoring the blood on his jacket. He reciprocated, and the feeling of his strong arms around you abated your fear. It didn’t matter what he’d done to that demon, Dean was still just Dean.

Dean was safe.

…

“Alright, I’m gonna go in. You wait here.”

“Are you insane?” You scoffed as Sam stepped out of the car. “It’s Dean, I’m coming.”

“We don’t know what he is right now, so no, you’re not.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You saw the black eyes, Y/N. It’s not just Dean anymore. Now I mean it, stay in the car, I’ll be out with him soon.”

As Sam closed his door and walked into the bar, you reached down to unbuckle your seat belt.

“If you wanted me to stay away, you should’ve left me at the bunker.”

…

You couldn’t help it. When you saw Dean for the first time in months, your body grew a mind of its own.

“Dean!” Your features lifted in a grin as you rushed towards your big brother. All the air left your body in a huff when Sam’s arm shot out to stop you, wrapping around your waist.

“What’s the matter, Sammy?” Dean smirked. “Don’t trust me?”

That was when you really took in the scene. Dean looked…different. Like, not Dean. It wasn’t the same as when you’d seen him torturing that demon, it wasn’t just a coldness or a harshness, it was a different person.

But what stood out to you more was Sam. His arm was tight around you, before he maneuvered you behind him. His whole body was between you and Dean, one hand on your arm to be sure you were there, and the other just slightly jutting out in front of him. You knew that stance well; it was his Protective Mode, for whenever he thought there was an imminent, real danger.

And he was using it to keep you away from Dean. That scared you more than anything.

“Go back outside,” Sam ignored Dean’s remark, speaking to you but not taking his eyes off Dean.

“You shouldn’t have brought her here, Sammy,” Dean scoffed. “You know she can never resist her favorite big brother. Even when she was scared of me, she always liked me better than you.”

“Dean stop it,” you stepped around Sam, but he grabbed your arms and held you back.

“Y/N go outside,” Sam grunted.

“Dean, just come home with us,” you stopped fighting Sam, but kept your gaze on Dean.

“My home isn’t with you anymore, baby,” you nearly cringed when Dean’s favorite nickname for you came out in a way that was so obviously not Dean. “Now listen to Sammy so the grown ups can talk.”

“Dean-“

“Hey,” you were suddenly jerked around as Sam twisted you to face him. “I need you to go.”

Nothing less than the absolute terror on Sam’s face would’ve made you relent, but relent you did.

…

“I want you to stay out of there until this is over,” Sam stared you down.

“Is it that bad?”

“We’re gonna fix it, ok?” Sam sighed. “We’ve got the blood and everything, I just need you to stay away from him until it’s done.”

You nodded up at him, and he disappeared into the bunker’s dungeon.

With nothing to do, you found yourself wandering into Dean’s bedroom. You’d been doing that a lot since he’d left, finding the space comforting, as it was so very Dean.

However today was not a day that you would find comfort here. You’d been waiting in there for only an hour or so when you heard it. Or rather, him.

“Come on, Sammy! Don’t you wanna see your big brother?”

Your blood ran cold as you heard Dean’s not-so-subtle approach come closer and closer to you. What was he doing?

You didn’t have much time to wonder, because the footsteps echoing through the hall suddenly stopped outside your door.

What was he doing? If he didn’t want to be here, why didn’t he just leave?

You shouldn’t have stopped to wonder, but you’d promised yourself a long time ago that you’d always trust Dean, so the possibilities of what he really wanted hadn’t even crossed your mind when the door suddenly flew open.

Dean stood there, a hammer gripped in his hand as he stepped inside his old room.

“Hey little sister,” a sickening smirk spread across his face. “I was expecting Sammy, but I suppose I can take care of you first.”

Before you knew what was happening, you were flat on your back, the flat top of the hammer pressed against your throat.

You gasped for a breath, and were horrified when no air came through.

“St-st-st-“ it was no use, you couldn’t speak.

“What was that?” Suddenly the pressure on your neck lessened, but the hammer still was still touching your neck, like some kind of sick reminder that he could cut your air off again at any time.

“If you wanna leave, just leave,” you whimpered.

“Oh baby, I don’t wanna leave. Not yet. See, after what he tried to do to me, Sam’s as good as dead. But first, I’m gonna show him exactly where pissing me off gets him.”

“M-meaning?” You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

“Meaning you’re going first. But before that, you’re gonna get Sammy over here so he can watch.”

Your eyes drifted to your pocket where your phone was.

“Oh no baby, you won’t need that to get him here,” Dean leaned back, lifting the hammer.

“De-“ your plea broke off in a shriek when the blunt object slammed down on your hand. White hot pain shot up you arm, and the edges of your vision started to go fuzzy, black tinging the corners.

“Hey!” A harsh slap across your face brought focus back to your eyes. “Don’t you pass out on me baby, I want Sam to hear you scream.”

“Please,” you sobbed. “Dean, don’t do this to me. Not you. Don’t you do this. Not you, please!”

“Dean!”

“Hey Sammy,” Dean didn’t even turn around at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“Dean, get away from her,” you craned your neck to see Sam standing in the doorway, the demon blade clutched in his hand.

“Or what? You gonna kill me, Sammy?” Dean kept his eyes on you as he spoke to Sam, a cocky grin splitting his face. “I don’t think you have it in you.”

Sam took a half step forwards, but stopped when Dean raised the hammer, barely sparing a glance at Sam

“Uh-uh. I can bring this down on her skull faster than you can reach me, and you know I will.”

“Ok, ok,” Sam lowered the knife as he sidestepped further into the room and into Dean’s line of sight. “Just let her go man. This is between you and me.”

“I don’t think so, Sammy. You brought her into this, and now I want you to watch her die.”

“Dean,” you grabbed onto Dean’s arm, once again gaining his attention. “Dean you don’t have to do this. Come on, it’s me, you-you can’t…” you shake your head. “Th-this isn’t you, you wouldn’t do this.”

“Oh baby it is me,” you whimpered as Dean leaned down to whisper in your ear. “And you should’ve stayed scared of me.”

Dean twisted the hammer in his hand, raising it up for the fatal blow.

You closed your eyes, blocking out the vision of Dean’s pit-black eyes as you waited for the blow.

You kept your eyes closed until you heard Dean cry out, and suddenly his weight was lifted off you. You looked up to see Castiel dragging Dean back, who was fighting tooth-and-nail, a horrible screeching-like scream coming from him.

“It’s over,” Castiel grunted. “It’s over.”

…

Once Dean was secured back in the dungeon, Castiel healed your broken hand before going to help Sam in curing Dean.

As soon as he was clean and out of the dungeon, you didn’t waste a second, running into his waiting arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he breathed.

“It’s ok, Dean.”

“No, no it’s not,” he insisted, pulling away. “It’s…it was…” Dean lowered his gaze, unable to look you in the eye.

Not having it, you ducked your head lower so that your face flooded his vision, and he finally met your gaze again.

“Not you. It was not you.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #the winchester brothers #sam winchester x you #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #spn sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader

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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 months ago

Note

can you pleaseplease write a friends to lovers with jennifer check x female reader? i love ur writing btw 🙏🙏

ofc I can! and thank you so so much, that's so sweet of you to say 🥰🥰 this is meant to be a part two to a previous jen fic I wrote, practice makes perfect, so I recommend reading that one first if you want

Perfect Your Craft (Jennifer Check x fem reader)

Warnings: friends to lovers, kissing happens a lot here (both casual/platonic and romantic), sapphic/wlw yearning, slightly vulgar/salty language, slowburn (kind of but not really cause idk how to write that), brief implied mistreatment by Jen's past boyfriends

You couldn't get over the kiss you and Jennifer had shared. While you were quite certain that it was meant to be just that, a kiss and nothing more, the feelings you already held for her in your heart were starting to grow and blossom like a garden after a rainstorm.

Part of you was under the assumption that it would just be a one time thing, but you should've known better.

"Come over to my house after school so we can practice," she had murmured in your ear as soon as the bell rang to signal class was over.

A shiver went down your spine at her words, knowing exactly what she meant when she said practice. Practice makes perfect, right? So if the two of you wanted to get good enough to kiss your future boyfriends, you needed to practice on each other first.

But that was part of the problem. You didn't want a boyfriend, you wanted her. You wanted Jennifer.

Of course she could never know, because how do you tell your best friend since forever about the massive crush you have on her? You don't, that's how.

Especially not when you're both from Devil's Kettle, one of the smallest towns ever. She'd laugh right in your face for liking girls, let alone daring to have a crush on her of all people.

It was all you could think about for the rest of the day, even after you'd gotten to her house. You were so caught up in your quiet longing that you almost missed what she'd said.

"Okay, we should probably get to work on learning how to use tongue." The dumbstruck look on your face at her words caused her to let out an amused laugh. "Oh my God, you look ridiculous."

"Tongue? Tongue?" You questioned in disbelief, unable to wrap your head around the notion.

Jennifer rolled her eyes, now becoming less amused and more annoyed with how long it was taking you to digest her comment. "Yes, tongue. Plenty of guys use tongue when they kiss, so you'll want to learn how to use it, too. Trust me, it's for the best."

You tried not to make a face of displeasure as she mentioned the way guys liked to kiss. It was hard enough trying to handle the idea of her kissing you like that, you certainly didn't need the image of her experiencing it with guys firsthand.

"If you insist," you finally muttered in agreement, to which she merely grinned at in excitement.

"Great. You know, you're really gonna need to learn how to 'perfect your craft' in the subtle art of kissing if you want to score a date by the time prom season rolls around, or whatever it is that you dorks say."

The only date I want is you, you couldn't help but think automatically as you envisioned what prom would even look like for you. You'd obviously go with her, but not as a real date, more as a substitute if you weren't able to find a guy to go with.

She'd have no doubt finding one, meaning you'd most likely be third-wheeling her the whole time. As much as you wanted to feel bad at the thought of potentially spoiling her fun, imagining the look on her date's face as you spent the entire evening glued to her side was priceless. Talk about getting cockblocked.

Then again, she didn't seem like someone who'd be entirely against the idea of a threesome, so maybe you wouldn't cling to her so tightly after all.

"Hello, earth calling. What's your home planet like on Mars where you've disappeared off to?" Jennifer's sarcastic voice cut through your thoughts, bringing you back down to reality.

It wasn't prom season yet, neither of you had dates, and you were both sitting on her bed about to practice kissing each other for when the time came that you'd need it. Perfect your craft, or whatever it was that she said.

"Sorry, I was just... thinking about stuff." What a weak excuse. She had to know you were lying, but for once she didn't push you for info. Probably only because she figured you were imagining some kind of boring "nerd thing", as she'd say.

"Guys like it if you're a tease, but don't do it too much or it'll only piss them off. Unless you're into that," she added with a cheeky smirk.

You bit back the immediate urge to blurt out the word "gross" at her advice.

"The most important thing to remember is how you move your lips. You're not just smashing them together with someone else's the same way you did when you played Barbies growing up, you want to try to fit them together perfectly, almost like a really sexy puzzle."

A sexy puzzle? Sometimes her comments made you wonder what you even saw in her in the first place.

"Like this." She moved closer to you on the bed so she could demonstrate. You stayed completely still as she kissed you, indeed moving her lips along yours as if they were made for each other.

"See? It's not so hard once you get the hang of it," she said once she'd pulled away, absentmindedly playing with her hair as she leaned back. "Now you try."

Oh, great. She expected you to initiate a kiss. It was awkward enough for you when she was the one who was doing it, but now you had to.

"Um, okay." You cleared your throat as you slowly shifted over to where she was. Closing your eyes, you leaned in and attempted to kiss her the same way she'd done to you.

She let you take the lead this time, allowing you to kiss her for as long as you wanted to. And once you'd started, it was hard to stop. Even though your lips were only touching hers for a minute or so, it felt like hours.

When you finally pulled away, you felt your face heating up as you realized just how eager you must've seemed to be kissing her for so long. "How- how was that?" You asked nervously as you tried your best to act natural, hoping she wouldn't notice just how affected you were by the kiss.

"That was great. I'm jealous of whoever gets to date you," she teased while giving you a playful shove.

Laughing awkwardly, you decided to play along. "Y- yeah, sure." It was hard for you to imagine wanting to kiss anyone else besides her, let alone date.

Jennifer casually checked her nails as she asked her next question. "You're not currently dating anyone, though, right?" If you didn't know any better, you would've thought that she sounded jealous, but there was no way. She was just overly protective, that was all.

"Uh, no. None of the guys at school really seem to interest me that much," you admitted as you watched her, always finding yourself mesmerized with even the smallest things that she did.

"Good, because let me tell you a lot of the guys at school are either jerks or creeps. Believe me, I know from experience."

It broke your heart to think about her getting mistreated by anyone, let alone by some random guy that she was seeing. "That's awful, Jen. You shouldn't have to go through that." You tenatively reached your hand out to rest on top of yours, half expecting her to scoff and pull it away, like she usually did.

This time, though, she simply allowed it, she voice uncharacteristically soft when spoke. "Yeah, I guess."

You thought about saying something else in order to help comfort her, but you weren't sure what. Eventually you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I could treat you so much better than they could." You didn't know where this sudden burst of confidence came from, but deep down in your heart you knew it to be true. You knew you could treat her so much better than any guy she'd ever hooked up with before in the past.

Her gaze instantly shot up to meet yours the second those words left your mouth. You'd never seen Jennifer look so shocked before, if ever. "What?"

"I- I-" And just like that, your devil-may-care attitude disappeared just as soon as it came. "I- I don't know what I'm saying. I'm just being stupid." You turned away from her as you withdrew your hand, feeling embarrassed.

"No, hey, don't say that." She gently grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back in her direction, placing her hand under your chin so you couldn't look away. "I think we should try that, actually."

"Wh- What?" This time it was your turn to be shocked. You hesitantly met her eyes, which for once lacked their usual mocking glint. They didn't look bitter and mean, only soft and genuine.

"You're really nice, and you really care about me, and you're a really great kisser. If I was going to date anybody here and actually plan on sticking around instead of just bailing the morning after, it would be you." She admitted in a quiet voice, averting her gaze from yours as she spoke.

"Promise?" Your voice came out in a hushed whisper, and while you might've seemed to be frozen in a state of disbelief she knew she couldn't blame you for thinking that. Jennifer wasn't really one for commitment, but that was with other people who she never really cared about. That wasn't ever with you.

"Yeah, I promise." Her eyes flickered back up to meet yours, the both of you holding your breath as you waited for the other to make a move. Time seemed to stand still when you finally decided to lean in and give her a kiss, something you'd done so many times before- but this time felt different. It felt passionate, and full of love, and real.

She kissed you until she lost her breath, the two of you panting from lack of oxygen. "I love you. Like, really, really love you."

Your heart soared at her words, the blossoming love you felt within you growing more and more the longer you spent this moment with her. "I love you too, Jen. I really, really do."

A giggle of delight escaped from her at your words, and she quickly pulled you down onto the bed next to her. "I'm so glad you're my girlfriend now. I'll never, ever let you go."

You'd never seen her look so happy, and it made you proud of yourself for being the one to make her feel that way. Cuddling up close, you wrapped your arms around her and let out a sigh of content. "Me, either."

End notes: this was longer than I meant it to be but I didn't want to rush the plot so 🤷‍♂️

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#jennifers body #jennifers body imagines #jennifers body imagine #jennifers body x reader #jennifers body fic #jennifers body fluff #jennifer check #jennifer check imagines #jennifer check imagine #jennifer check x reader #jennifer check fic #jennifer check fluff #fem reader #x fem reader #jennifers body x fem reader #jennifer check x fem reader

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frudoo · 7 months ago

Text

Goddess — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Retired Johnny focuses on his art. His favorite muse? You, of course.

Warnings: Slightly smutty, very suggestive. Plus size reader (female). Body image issues mentioned. Shitty Scottish (PLEASE give me feedback, I wanna get better!!)

I’m not gonna lie y’all—I’m not too proud of this one. The idea was perfect in my head but my fingers did not want to write it </3

MDNI

A shudder escapes your pouty lips with every drag of his vaseline-coated fingers across your soft body. Johnny’s excuse was to tell you that your skin needs to be prepped before he could do anything, but that was ten minutes ago and he’s been massaging your breasts for five, now. Finally, he pulls his hands away after giving your nipples one more flick for good measure. He chuckles at the breathy whine you let out.

“So eager, bon’. Cannae even handle a bit o’ prep?” The cocky bastard teases, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose before turning around and grabbing the plaster bandages off of his desk.

This all started when you made the mistake of telling your beloved husband that you were feeling down. The demons had gotten louder the longer you stared in the mirror, and Johnny had walked in right as the first tear fell down your round cheek. He let you cry in his arms, kissing your forehead and murmuring into your ear about all of his favorite parts of you. Turned your tears of self-loathing into glistening proof of ecstasy with his face buried between your thighs, leaving no room for doubt about just how much he adores you. He told you his idea while you were curled into his side, slick with sweat and pleasantly fucked-out.

That’s how you ended up here: sitting on a stool in his workspace, naked and compliant (just how he likes you, he joked). The body cast, of course, was his idea of making you feel better about yourself—at least, that’s what he told you. The truth was that he’s utterly obsessed with you. The ring on your finger and the home you shared wasn’t enough for him. He wanted—needed—to be surrounded by you in any way, shape or form. No matter how many paintings or sketches or statues of you that littered the house, he wasn’t satisfied, always convincing you to sit all pretty for him so he could recreate the most beautiful work of art he could think of.

Johnny starts on your breasts, coming as no surprise to you. The plaster strips are cold and tacky against your supple skin, and it makes you grimace. He takes his time molding the pliable medium to fit you perfectly, nimble fingers working restlessly to exact the curve of your perky nipples. He hums while he works, biting his tongue between his teeth in pure concentration, dismissing the whines and annoyed sighs you let out.

“Haud yer wheesht, bon’! Willnae take long. Lass loves the attention,” he scolds, but the shit-eating grin on his face makes you huff louder.

“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you purse your lips, fighting the urge to cross your arms over your torso—his new favorite canvas.

“Ah jus’ want tae show ye tha’ yer body shuid be in a museum. Ah ken ye’re bonnie, but ye dinnae, so ah’m gunna prove t’ye wha’ a goddess ye’re.” Johnny explains softly, those sparkling blue, oceanic eyes darting up to meet your impatient gaze.

Can’t really argue with that, can you? With a final sigh, you reluctantly relax your body, allowing the artist to more accurately place the plaster strips onto your lubricated skin. He rewards your cooperation with a tender kiss to your lips and a warm smile. His calloused hands smooth out the bandages over the soft rolls on your waist and tummy, making sure every single detail of your perfect form is immortalized. If you yourself can’t live forever, he’s determined to make sure people are able to admire you for centuries to come.

Once Johnny’s satisfied with the sticky mess he made on your plush body (for once, it’s actually a PG-rated mess), he steps back to admire his handiwork with a pleased hum. His eyes scan over your body in appreciation before he turns and washes his hands, drying them off with a rag. Over the course of the next thirty minutes, he tells you corny jokes to keep you distracted from the discomfort of drying plaster on your skin. Once it’s dry, he tells you to take a deep breath so he can pry off the cast—you’re secretly thankful that he spent so much time putting vaseline all over you because pulling it off was already a task.

With a gross pull of your skin and then a soft squelching noise, the artwork is off of your body. Johnny smiles giddily, happy with how perfect and detailed it turned out. He sets it carefully on his desk to let it dry more on the inside. Much to your relief, he allows you off of the stool and guides you into the washroom where he runs you a nice bath. He insists on cleaning your body, gushing about how beautiful and perfect you are for him—and then he fingers you silly as a reward, making sure the bathwater is deliciously murky before draining it. He dries you off with tender hands, pressing doting kisses all over your face just because he can. And once he’s got you in bed, all sleepy and warm, he climbs in beside you and whispers into your ear:

“Gunna make a cast o’ yer gorgeous cunt next, aye?”

#BIG BELLIES ARE BEAUTIFUL!!!!#johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #soap x plus size reader #johnny mactavish x plus size reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #plus size reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish

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kymsys · 5 months ago

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hiii i'm obsessed with your merman au!! if it's okay i totally let it take over my brain for a hot minute so ummm here's a little gift if you will accept it 👉👈 sorry to bother, i just HAD to write something dkfdl;fjg. your art is so gorgeous btw <33

After weeks of secretly housing Satoru in his private garden, Suguru had devised a way to safely return him to the ocean without being caught. He'd even relayed all the information about the kingdom's fishing system so Satoru would be able to steal the occasional fish without getting caught in the nets himself. He had to admit, he would miss having his little secret around. But he knew he couldn't keep Satoru cooped up forever. Satoru was a creature of adventure. He was probably tired of Suguru anway.

After a few attempts, Suguru successfully scooped Satoru up in his arms, Satoru wrapping his tail around his waist to stay up. His skin was cold to the touch. He teased Suguru as he clumsily navigated the path in the dark, even though he'd already walked it alone several times, and Suguru hated the way his heart stuttered at the siren's breath on his ear.

Really, Suguru should've done this much sooner. He should've released Satoru as soon as he realized he was falling for the creature. It was hard not to when it was in Satoru's nature to be enticing. Suguru let himself spend far too much time with him in the garden, let Satoru flutter his fingertips over his collarbones, let him beckon him closer and nibble on his ear playfully, let him lick the blood off his wrist when he got scratched up. He was never sure if Satoru was threatening him or flirting with him, never sure if it was all a game or if there was actually part of him that was interested in Suguru.

Suguru willed his mind to stop racing as he knelt down on the rocks and lowered Satoru into the water. Satoru immediately swam away and back, did a few turns and flips, gleefully splashing in his newfound freedom. Suguru smiled, heart tugging in his chest as Satoru slowly moved farther away. He was about to turn around when Satoru came back up to the edge of the rocks, resting his forearms on them and beaming up at Suguru.

"Care to join me?" He teased with a sharp grin. Suguru huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

"What, you're not dying to get away from me?" Suguru shot back, trying to keep his smile light even though it felt heavy on his face. Satoru pawed at his ankle and Suguru obliged without thinking, sitting and dipping his feet in the water, Satoru folding his arms atop his thighs.

"If you could breathe underwater, I'd drag you in here with me." His eyes practically glowed in the moonlight, a deceptively innocent smile curling at the corners of his perfect lips.

"You'd do that regardless." Suguru let himself give into the urge to push Satoru's hair off his forehead. It would probably be the last time anyway. Satoru's smile dropped the slightest bit.

"No." He reached up to touch Suguru's cheek, lightly stroking his cheekbone down to his jaw. "Not to you."

MANGO HOW DARE YOU WRITE SMTH SO BEAUTIFUL 😭😭😭 its amazing i love it so much HNGGGGG. THANK YOU?! thank you so much, i cant believe ppl love my merman au so much, thanks for this sweet gift and thanks for indulging with me 🥺 funnily enough @kingdomofred had also written that suguru took gojo out of the ocean into a pond. ARE WE ALL VIBING TOGETHER? it seems to be a thing for sure xD okay i have to dive a bit deeper into why i love your writing so much: the way that suguru isnt sure if gojo actually likes him or he is just acting accordingly to his siren behaviour?? it breaks my heart, its so bittersweet but yet i love it so much !! it fits so perfectly and i love the resolve at the end that yes ofc gojo likes him ; u ; ♥ . the image you described of suguru carrying gojo and the way gojos tail would lay around sugurus waist?? THAT IS SO FUCKING NICE?! definitely gonna put that on my to draw list !! and gojo nibbling on sugurus ears and licking his wounds and blood....fuck thats hot. i have no other words left. truely. THANK YOU MANGO IM IN LOVE 🥰(made my day)

#merman au #merman au lives #jjk #satosugu #stsg #geto suguru #gojo satoru #thank u mango #bless u

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hunieday · 2 months ago

Text

Oogami Banri 2024 RabbiTV - Episode 3 : From now and forever

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

(Nakamise Street)

Utsugi Shiro: The hand-kneading pottery was so much fun! Though I didn’t think we’d almost be late to our reservation because of the cream puffs...

Anesagi Kaoru: Traveling is bound to have some accidents! I’m glad we managed to make something in the end. This was my first time trying something like that.

Takanashi Tsumugi: Was that really your first time!? You made such a beautiful teacup, I thought you were used to it!

Oogami Banri: You’re really good with your hands! I think I’ll use the platter I made to serve some side dishes for the president.

Okazaki Rinto: W-We did pretty good for our first time right, Takanashi-san?

Takanashi Tsumugi: Y-Yes! Though I tried to make a teacup like Anesagi-san’s and ended up with a bowl…B-but I managed somehow!

Utsugi Shiro: Okazaki-san’s vase was beautifully made as well.

Okazaki Rinto: It’s… a mug.

Utsugi Shiro: What!? Oops, sorry about that...!

Anesagi Kaoru: Now you can’t cover up your blunder?

Oogami Banri: Utsugi-san, you made a beer cup right?

Utsugi Shiro: Oh, yeah, I thought it would be nice for my evening drinks. I’ve been enjoying an ice cold beer after work lately.

Oogami Banri: I know exactly what you mean! I bet it’s gonna taste even better when you drink from a cup you made yourself.

Okazaki Rinto: You three—Oogami-san, Anesagi-san, and Utsugi-san—are so naturally skilled. I’m a little jealous...

Takanashi Tsumugi: But I’m sure we’ll be impressed with our work when we see the finished products! I can’t wait, Okazaki-san!

Okazaki Rinto: Yeah, Takanashi-san...!

Anesagi Kaoru: Hehe. They said they’ll be ready in about two months. Let’s all take pictures together again once they arrive!

Oogami Banri: Sounds good…! Um, talking about beer is making me crave one. Should we head out soon?

Utsugi Shiro: Sounds good! Looks like there are some food stalls too, let’s go check out the fireworks festival venue.

(Cut to the beach, Night time.)

Takanashi Tsumugi: Amazing…! This spot’s a hidden gem!

Anesagi Kaoru: It really is! There are no buildings blocking the view either. Looks like there aren’t that many people around here.

Oogami Banri: I’m looking forward to the fireworks!

Utsugi Shiro: Hey guys! Sorry for leaving you hanging! I bought all sorts of things for you.

Okazaki Rinto: We’ve got candy apples, chocolate bananas, cotton candy, yakisoba, and grilled squid!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Wow…! Thank you so much! Why does food from stalls always look so appealing?

Oogami Banri: The fact that we’re outside definitely makes it taste better.

Anesagi Kaoru: I still don’t know how you two managed to carry all that food by yourselves.

Okazaki Rinto: Utsugi-san kept buying more and more and just kept going, so we ended up with a lot!

Utsugi Shiro: Ahaha! That’s what makes festivals like these so much fun!

Anesagi Kaoru: Color me surprised. You’re the type of guy who looks more accustomed to city life.

Okazaki Rinto: Yeah, you have more of a “Fireworks? I’ll book a hotel room and watch them from a cool room” vibe!

Utsugi Shiro: Whaaat…Where did that image come from? Oogami-san, please say something!

Oogami Banri: Huh? Me!? Ermmm… let’s just have some beer for now.

Okazaki Rinto: Ah, sounds great! I’ll have a little tonight!

Utsugi Shiro: Count me in.

Anesagi Kaoru: Let’s toast with tea!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yes! Cheers!

Oogami Banri: …I’m having so much fun. I’m so grateful to have been able to travel with you guys like this so many times.

Okazaki Rinto: Me too. Connections are important in this industry, not just vertically but also horizontally. We’re not just rivals, we’re also friends who get to bond like this.

Anesagi Kaoru: That’s true. There were so many situations that I wouldn’t have been able to overcome without your support.

Utsugi Shiro: Thank you so much. I’m so grateful to be included in your circle.

Oogami Banri: What are you talking about? We’re happy to have you here, Utsugi-san.

Takanashi Tsumugi: We form the Managers team!

Anesagi Kaoru: Hey, now that sounds fierce.

Takanashi Tsumugi: S-Sorry! I just thought it would be nice if we had a team name or something…

Okazaki Rinto: Managers team sounds cool!

Utsugi Shiro: The Managers’ mission for today is to enjoy the fireworks together!

Anesagi Kaoru: There’s no way you’re getting drunk already…

Oogami Banri: Ahaha! It’s been so long since I just relaxed and watched fireworks. Maybe not since high school...

Okazaki Rinto: Sounds nice. Were you with friends?

Oogami Banri: ...Yeah, with friends. We were heading to the station when the fireworks started, so we stopped to watch for a bit.

Oogami Banri: I remember their beautiful reflection on the sea.

Okazaki Rinto: Today’s fireworks will start near the sea so I’m sure they’ll reflect beautifully, just like that day!

Oogami Banri: Yes! I’m looking forward to it.

Anesagi Kaoru: It’s getting somewhat lively around here. Could it be starting soon?

Takanashi Tsumugi: I feel kinda giddy...!

*Boom!*

Oogami Banri: It’s starting!

Takanashi Tsumugi: It’s so beautiful...!

Okazaki Rinto: They’re so powerful!

Okazaki Rinto: Ta-ma-ya! (1)

Utsugi Shiro: Ka-gi-ya! (2)

Anesagi Kaoru: Look, there’s a firework shaped like a heart!

Takanashi Tsumugi: You’re right! It’s so cute...!

Oogami Banri: Amazing, they’re firing off in different shapes now!

Utsugi Shiro: I’m gonna do my best to make ŹOOĻ become the strongest idol group and take over the world!

Okazaki Rinto: Wow! Did you just make a wish?

Utsugi Shiro: I just felt like shouting something.

Anesagi Kaoru: Utsugi-san, that was wonderful! I’ll do the same.

Anesagi Kaoru: I’ll keep learning and growing as a skilled manager just like TRIGGER continues to grow every day!

Okazaki Rinto: Me too...! I hope I can keep growing stronger as Re:vale’s manager!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Um... And I’ll become even more powerful so I can continue supporting IDOLiSH7!

Oogami Banri: I’ll keep supporting MEZZO" so they can stay true to themselves forever!

Utsugi Shiro: The fireworks were so much fun!

Okazaki Rinto: I feel like I enjoyed them differently than usual, but I definitely gained energy from everyone!

Anesagi Kaoru: Well then, it’s about time for that, isn’t it? The crowd is leaving so let’s do it.

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yes! The video call is connected now!

Oogami Banri: Could it be...!

(Cut to the i7 Dorms)

Nanase Riku & Izumi Iori: Banri-san!

Rokuya Nagi & Izumi Mitsuki & Nikaido Yamato: Happy-!

Osaka Sougo & Yotsuba Tamaki: Birthday-!

Oogami Banri: Guys...! Thank you! I’m having an amazing time in Atami!

Nanase Riku: Wahh, I’m so glad to hear that! Banri-san, look, everyone from the other groups came here as well!

Anesagi Kaoru: You made it to work on time though, right?

Yaotome Gaku: Of course! We got it all done! Are you enjoying Atami?

Kujo Tenn: Hey, don’t push me. Anesagi-san, thank you for your hard work. I’m glad to see you look refreshed.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Ah, I can see the sea! Anesagi-san, you look like you’re having a lot of fun!

Momo: Okariiiiiin! We’re here too!

Yuki: Yo, how’s the night in Atami?

Okazaki Rinto: It’s amazing! I’m having a great time thanks to you!

Inumaru Touma: Utsugi-san! Are you enjoying yourself?

Mido Torao: You got a great view of the fireworks, right?

Utsugi Shiro: Hey guys! We’re having an amazing time! Let’s come together next time.

Natsume Minami: Gladly. I’ll conquer the food stalls.

Isumi Haruka: I’m definitely gonna have a candy apple!

Izumi Mitsuki: We were talking about how jealous we were of the managers attending a festival, so we’re gonna have one here as well!

Nikaido Yamato: Grilled corn on the cob, fried chicken, grilled chicken skewers, yakisoba, we even got beer! It’s way too good.

Rokuya Nagi: TRIGGER brought a shaved ice machine too. Dessert is perfect now!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I’m glad we brought it! We have plenty of syrup too.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Me and Isumin also made a ring toss mini-game out of cardboard!

Isumi Haruka: This is actually pretty fun! It’s a bit difficult to make the rings though...

Osaka Sougo: I’m working on the BGM with Touma. Of course “Danshi Tarumono! (Matsuri)’ is a must.

Inumaru Touma: I end up humming it unconsciously! Maybe we should just loop it!

Yaotome Gaku: Thanks, you two! “NATSU☆Shiyouze!” and ŹOOĻ’s “BLACK TIGER” also got me pumped up!

Izumi Iori: Natsume-san and Mido-san also helped with the decoration. I must say we have quite the unique drawings over here…

Natsume Minami: Hehe. Here’s a king pudding in a yukata.

Mido Torao: There’s also a pudding wearing a happi coat. (3)

Momo: Leave the drink management to Momo-chan’s team! Yuki the Bartender will make the best drinks!

Yuki: Hello. I’m Yuki the Bartender.

Nanase Riku: We’re having a great time over here as well! Right, Tenn-nii?

Kujo Tenn: Yeah. It’s been a while since the two of us attended a festival together, Riku.

Izumi Iori: Don’t forget the other fourteen people in this room ...Well then, Nanase-san, let’s get to the main topic.

Nanase Riku: Oh! That’s right!

Nanase Riku: Umm, we’d like to express our gratitude to all the managers for constantly having our backs! Let’s start with Momo-san!

Momo: Yeeees! Okarin, you always believe in us and push us to do our best! We are always saved by your reliability. Please continue to be our best manager forever!

Kujo Tenn: Anesagi-san, you’re an indispensable presence as we continue to walk our path. We’d be happy if you continue supporting us as we rise to even greater heights.

Isumi Haruka: You know... Utsugi-san is always there for us no matter what. You’re the reason we are able to do our best. Thank you.

Nanase Riku: Manager, Banri-san, thank you for always being there for us. We will always love you!

Nanase Riku: One, two!

TRIGGER & IDOLiSH7 & Re:vale & ZOOL: Thank you for loving us so much! Please continue to support us in the future!

Oogami Banri: Guys...!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Likewise, thank you so much!! I’ll keep doing my best to support you all!

Anesagi Kaoru: You guys have done so much for us today. I’ll do everything in my power to protect your brilliance.

Okazaki Rinto: I am very proud to be Momo-kun and Yuki-kun’s manager. I will protect you guys with my life!

Utsugi Shiro: I’m truly grateful to have met you. ŹOOĻ is the strongest and dearest existence for me.

Oogami Banri: Thank you so much today. I really love all of you!

Oogami Banri: I’ll continue to support all of you forever and always!

End of Episode 3.

(1) & (2) Traditional words shouted while viewing fireworks.

(3) Happi: Traditional Japanese coat

#idolish7 #i7 #ainana #idolish7 translation #oogami banri #managers #trigger #re:vale #zool

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jacobsbigmelons · 2 years ago

Text

drunken’ fools

Jacob Custos x male reader

nsfw, face fucking, blow jobs, fingering, slight voyeurism, both parties consented, facial, Alcohol consumption.

yay new blog new writing time, and yes what better way to start off my page with the most scandalous fic ever 😏

The sounds of children quickly subsided once they were instructed to return to their cabins and begin to head to bed. You had just returned your batch of kids after showing them your telescope, after all, the kids gotta start on astronomy at some point so why not show them the moon to start? You collapsed your telescope and put the strap around your arm, the kids still slightly ranting to each other about either how boring this was, how much they wanna go to sleep or the occasional few who sounded like they were genuinely interested in what you showed them.

You noticed the rest of the councilors were gathering all the kids in their respected cabins which ranged from last name, you were responsible for the MN/Z kids. Thought what seemed like forever, everyone was finally in their respective cabins as the lights finally dimmed and it was bedtime…for them at least. The councilors of course have their own place to sleep and as adults that means they probably aren’t going to just stay put.

You shared a small cabin with Dylan, though Ryan, Jacob and Nick all had to cram into one somehow just because of ongoing renovations, plus Mr.H said that’s what we’re gonna do so that’s what we’re gonna do. You rested your head on your pillow as you laid on the top bunk of your bed, trying to get a peek through the window but only being able to see the dirt ground from where you were. It felt like an eternity as you were finding just anything to occupy yourself with, anything to help make you fall asleep just milliseconds faster but to your chagrin for what felt like hours…nothing.

You swore you were keeping a mental note of the time though your idea of what time it could be was so wrong. Though there was only one yet risky idea but you just needed to expend this energy somehow. “Dylan…!” you whisper yelled, silence coming from below you. you slightly moved as your foot rested on the wooden ladder as you stepped down only a few steps before calling out again. “Dylan…?” again, no response.

quick

you quickly turned yourself around as you descended the ladder and met with the image of Dylan’s back towards you, perfect. You practically slid down the ladder instead of putting any force on the wooden pegs incase they would creak. Though the sound of the floorboards creaking would prove your careful footwork on the ladder fruitless if there was just gonna be noise anyways. You took wide strides as you opened the front door and stepped out quickly, of course shoes were the least of your worries and a pebble getting stuck in ur toes is way more worth it than making all that racket inside.

You remember seeing a dock nearby which could use some company, the nighttime breeze pushing your hair around slightly, it was way better than whatever the silent cabin had to offer. You walked your way down towards what you recalled was the dock, and after what felt like forever of being paranoid someone would catch you and overall frustration of not knowing where the dock was, you finally made your way down the planks and sat as you watched your reflection slightly distort in the water.

“Yo dude what the fuck are you doing out here!?” A familiar voice spoke in the dark of night, you felt your eyebrows jump to the top of your head as your body went cold before you connected who’s voice it was. Jacob. “jesus christ! if you’re gonna come and say hi maybe do it in a less oh I dunno scary way??” You whispered though slightly louder just because of how far the cabins were from you two. “Yeah yeah whatever dude, what’re you doing out here anyways?” you watched as he spoke while making his way down to you, was he holding something? looks kinda big? the lamp next to you illuminated the area enough to see he had brought his beer stash which was probably going to be just for him.

“Couldn’t sleep, cabin was too hot, silent, I could keep going really but I don’t think you want to hear all that. What about you? seems like you were prepared.” You smiled as you let the words leave your mouth, as much as you may hide it, you were practically steaming at the cheeks. But you had a good enough facade to act like you didn’t have a crush on the one councilor who you see the least, and have 0 reason to like.

“Uhh, yeah so- I was originally just gonna drink a bit and like head back but if you want you can join man” You considered his words as he finally sat next to you and offered up one of his beers. Oh how much you despised the taste of it, though that didn’t stop you from drinking it whenever you had a the chance. “So what you were gonna limp back to camp and possibly have a run in with Mr.H and explain how you’re not y’know…drunk?” His mind blanked as he just stared with his mouth open just a bit, “uh…yeah…okay so maybe it isn’t the best plan but cmon it’s better than sleeping or whatever, besides you don’t seem like you wanna go back either so I don’t wanna hear it.”

You took the drink from his hands as you snapped it open, Jacob doing the same process with his own drink. You two talked about your days as the buzz began to make its way around your guys’s bodies. “No dude, some kid or whatever got hit with a football today, Kaitlyn was called like…3 more times because of these kids bro.” That’s right, the supposed to be nurse never did get to show up, you drunkenly raised your eyebrows at the information, you didn’t know Kaitlyn took up the title of Nurse.

Whatever was in these beers, they had to be stronger than whatever you would drink in your spare time that wasn’t at a camp, you’ll have to try and remember what these are called when you get back home. There were already two cans crushed on both Jacobs and your side of where you two were sitting, though at this point you both moved back because falling into the water is the last thing you two needed.

“Yeah…uh, th-that really uh sucks Jake” your words were practically slurring as you felt that numbing sensation go through your body, relief. Wait, when did you two get so close to each other? When did you guys begin to lay down and just stare at the sky? albeit very spread out with Jacobs arm practically using your neck as a resting spot, though your leg used his stomach as a throne. More time passed before some more drunken speech came around. “D-don’t mansplain what stars are dude, You’re talking to th- the one with the telescope here.” You giggled at your statement as he just scoffed, his feeble attempt to jumble what smart words he knew with what little knowledge about stars he had didn’t work.

“Shut- shut up, I act- hic actually know a few things” he spoke trying to keep what pride he has in his drunken state. “Keep that attitude and Harvard will come looking for you.” You pushed his arm off your neck as you tried looking for the beer you didn’t know was already finished off. As you sat yourself up you moved your leg which felt like it was pressed up against something, though you laid your leg on his stomach right? You slowly moved your foot which must’ve slithered its way down to his shorts because there was a very big and visible tent.

“You seem…excited” you stared down at him, your vision practically creating 1 maybe 2 more Jacobs? “Huh? oh, my bad dude, I don’t really know why i’m hard” He laughed it away, genuinely confused as to why he’s pent up. “Yo dude, your dick is pretty hard too” he bluntly spoke, as you quickly tried to see what he was talking about, why would you be hard at a time like- oh.

“Fuck.” Your voices coming to a halt as the situation began to get just a bit awkward, plus discreetly staring at Jacob’s dick and seeing it twitch probably isn’t the best sight for trying to get rid of your hard on. You felt your body shift from a numb peaceful feeling to a hot, lustful feeling. But there was no way in hell, drunk or not you would be courageous enough to ask anything regarding this situation- right?

“Can uh- can I maybe suck you off?” Okay maybe you can. You immediately look down and scratch your neck in embarrassment? Shame? The silence wasn’t reassuring and looking at the gross face probably plastered on Jacobs face was the last thing you wanted to see before making a move. “That’s kinda hot” he said, his hand scratching around his happy trail.

“I mean, uh, are you good at this sorta thing?” Jacob said, trying to divert the attention from his random lustful comment he made. “A mouths a mouth? plus I uh- h-haven’t rrrrealy done it- like a-at all” You said, letting your brain kinda just run on its own, if you were sober you would be kicking yourself for how much is being said. “But you- you do want me to…y’know?” he moved his lip in a manner as if he was thinking before nodding a yes.

You both got up before poorly hiding the beer and throwing the crushed cans in the water, something about this felt like it was happening way too casually but you’re both drunk so the filter is kind of gone so who knows, maybe this is what it’s like to not have to worry about what you have to say to the person you wanna say it to. You both moved the the nearby woods before hearing a slight snap behind you, you looked but god forbid your vision be good enough to see that far.

You kept walking as you found Jacob taking his jersey off as you got to business pretty quickly, you found yourself on your knees as you pulled his shorts off, there was a tiny bit of tension but none the less you found his dick almost basically whip out almost hitting your face. It wasn’t the biggest but it was definitely girthy and that’s just fine. You basically redid what you saw in porn, you tried to take it as far as you could as you heard the whining curses come out of Jacobs mouth.

“Ohhh, fuck fuck…fffffuck dude” he began to thrust in your mouth faster and faster, your gag reflex hanging on by a thread. “Fuck dude your throat feels soooo fucking good” As good as it felt seeing the effect you had on him you did need to breath, you pushed on his thigh though his hand just gripped your hair but he eventually got the picture as he pushed your head off of him. After a few coughs and some seconds to catch your breath you went right back to business “Fuck me while I get you off?” you both were practically heaving, “how am I gonna do that if you got my cock on your mouth?” he looked dumbfounded before you motioned an ‘ok’ sign and pushed your finger in it. It didn’t hit him until a few seconds later.

He sat down in the dirt floor as you went right back to bobbing on his dick, his fingers roaming your ass, the more you moaned the vibrations only made Jacob closer to busting. Though despite how good he made you feel and likewise, you’re loud pleasurable sounds only would get at least a tiny bit of attention. That’s all Dylan needed when he hid in the trees as he saw you two going at it. His face was hot and other parts.

‘this is not what I expected when I applied to be a councilor…’

Jacob was practically shoving you all the way to his base with ever thrust or push of your head. His fingers in you only contributed to the good feeling for both of you. It wasn’t until you were about to get up to breath you felt him shove you off as his now nude body straddled the top part of you as he was moaning way louder than he was just a few minutes ago. (and they were loud)

His cum practically sprayed all over your face and into your mouth before he was heaving right on top of you, you swore you heard rustling from a bush but it could just be an animal, even if it’s not whoever or whatever it was got quite the show. “Oh my fucking god jesus that was the best nut I busted in a minute” Jacob spoke quickly. Your guys’s sobriety began to make its way back to one another as the endorphins gave that rush yet pleasurable feeling.

“let’s…let’s get cleaned up and y’know, maybe try not to be too obvious of what happened.” you shyly spoke as he got off of you, he grabbed his underwear, shorts and jersey before putting them back on. He’ll change when he can but for now the endorphins just need to ware away. Jacob quickly got back to the poorly hidden beer stash as he untimely goes to put it back to wherever a jock brain thinks is a good place. And you need to head back before Dylan or anyone else wakes up. Eventually you two got back to your designated places and you found Dylan back in the same spot as you last saw, alls well as you climb back up to your bunk and fall soundly asleep.

though let’s just say Dylan was in fact not asleep.

#the quarry #jacob custos #the quarry jacob #the quarry jacob custos #jacob custos x reader #jacob custos x male reader #x male reader #x reader #x reader insert #reader insert #jacob custos my fucking beloved #literally snap me in two #i could write essays about him

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albertasunrise · 1 year ago

Text

Seeing Things - Oops Baby

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (So... I am trying to update my other pics but the reaction I getting from this ones really giving me the motivation to continue it... so thank you and I hope you enjoy this update! ♥️ It's not a super long one but everything gonna become clear I promise!)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

In the weeks that followed, the sightings of you only increased. You seemed to be everywhere he looked, asking him the same thing over and over again.

Come back to me

He wished he knew what you wanted. Surely you didn't want him to leave little Esme? You would never have wanted him to hurt himself so why did you ask him to go back to him? You were dead!

"I brought you your favourites." He stated plainly as he pulled out the old bouquet of flowers Ben had brought you the week before. He poured out the stagnant water and replenished it with some from the bottle of water he'd stashed in his pack. Then, just as you had shown him on one of the many evenings you'd spent together, he arranged them carefully, sure to make sure they were just how you would have liked them.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited sooner." He said as he got to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck nervously "Things have been busy with the baby and work... Don't want to bore you with the details but ya know... It's been hard." He let out a long sigh as he scraped his hand over his face to wipe away the traitorous tears that tracked down his cheeks "Esme's getting so big so fast." He continued "You should see her Titch, the spitting image of you! With the addition of my hair and eyes." He chuckled.

His eyes traced over the words carved into your headstone.

The words Here Lies carved in an elegant font followed by your first name and last name, 'Titch' at the end by request of Ben

Friend and Mother

Forever loved

Never forgotten

Ben had selected the words. Frankie hadn't been able to bring himself to do it so the younger Miller had stepped up. Taking the 'anything I can do to help' statement he'd made to Fish when you'd died so literally.

"Seeing you everywhere is killing me Titch." Frankie said after a short pause "Is this what you meant? Come to me, did you mean this? Because I am wracking my brains baby, trying to understand what it is you want from me." He sobbed "The guys all think I'm losing the plot but I know you're there. Just out of eyeshot or something and I know you're trying to tell me something so please... help me understand Titch."

He paused, his eyes locked on the headstone as he let out a shaky breath before pleading one last time.

"Please..."

"Frankie." Your voice made him just and his head shot up, scanning the surroundings for you.

"Frankie please..." You pleaded "Please don't leave me."

No matter where he looked he couldn't see you. But he could hear you like you were right beside him.

"What do you mean?" He begged, tears openly spilling down his cheeks "I'm here Titch... Baby I'm here!"

"Please don't leave me, Frankie." You repeat, your tone breaking his heart as he desperately looked for you among the headstones "I can't do this without you."

This statement let Frank's brows draw together. What did you mean by that? He was the one who'd been left behind. Your pleads disappeared like smoke on the wind and Frankie was left with the sound of his own breathing and the rattling of branches. He pressed his palms firmly against his eyes as he tried to slow his breathing, his pounding heart hammering against his ribs.

"I can't do this." He whispered to no one in particular, allowing the dam to break "Fuck I can't... I can't cope with this."

You didn't say anything else and Frankie audibly groaned before pushing himself to his feet. He didn't understand why you were doing this. Torturing him. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

...

"Well, ain't that better Lil' Titch?" Ben said as he finished fastening her babygrow "Uncle Ben's not so bad at this huh?"

Esme smiled in reply, her legs kicking and arms waving in visible excitement before he scooped her into his arms and planted a big kiss on her cheek. She settled quickly on his shoulder and he smiled as she let out a little sigh and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

"Shit Titch... I wish you could see how perfect she is." He whispered as he placed a kiss on the infant's brow.

"Hands off... she's mine." Frank teased as he walked into the lounge, grinning as his best friend cuddled his daughter so closely.

"You gotta share the baby Fish!." Ben chuckled as he gently gingerly sat on the couch.

“Yeah, yeah...” Frank grumbled as he waved off his friend, traipsing to the kitchen to fetch a beer.

“How’d it go?” Ben asked when the older man reappeared, giving him a sympathetic smile as he watched him sit on the armchair across from him.

“How’d what go?”

“Seeing Titch!”

“Was fine.” Frankie shrugged, fooling no one once again.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Ben pushed and Frankie groaned.

“Ben…”

“You gotta talk about this shit man!” Ben pushed, pleading with his eyes for his friend to just open up to him.

“You won’t believe me!”

“Why would you-“

“I heard Titch again.” Frank snapped, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake his baby.

“What do you mean you heard her?”

“I keep hearing her talking to me. Sometimes I see her and she always says the same thing!”

“Which is?”

"To go back to her." Frank replied, scraping a shaky hand over his face.

"Go back to her?"

"Yes, Ben!" He snarled "And today she was begging me not to leave her!" He choked "But she left me Ben!... I loved her and she left me all alone..." He trailed off as he broke down into tears, head in his hands.

Ben got up and placed Esme in her Moses basket with practised ease before sitting on the arm of the chair Frank was sitting in and pulling him close.

"I can't do this..." He sobbed and Ben sighed "I don't know what she wants from me."

"Fish... this is just your brain's way of holding onto her." Ben sighed "We all deal with grief in different ways... Shit, I keep listening to the last voicemail she left me over and over again just so I don't forget her voice!"

"No!" Frank all but shrieked "That's not what this is Ben! It's her I know it is!"

"You can't seriously believe Titch is haunting you, man!" Ben sighed as he stood up to check on Esme as she started to fuss.

"I don't know how else to explain it, Ben!" He growled "I keep seeing her everywhere and she keeps repeating the same thing over and over!"

"Fish-"

"But then today she said something different." Frankie interrupted " She begged me not to leave her... Told me she couldn't do this without me..." He trailed off whilst nervously pacing his lounge "What does that even mean? She can't do this without me... She can't be dead without me? Doesn't make any fucking sense!"

"Fish... Man, you need to calm down!" Ben pleaded, noting how breathless the pilot has suddenly become "This won't be doing your heart any good man!"

"My heart's fine!" The older man grumbled.

"You say that but this can't be good for you!" Ben warned "Just take a breath man... I believe you, okay! I believe you saw her."

"You're just saying that." Fish scoffed, rolling his eyes when Ben frantically shook his head.

"I'm really not okay!" The younger man pleaded "Just... Just please."

Frankie sighed as he ran a shaky hand through his mussed hair. His eyes then drifted to Esme who was staring over at him with her large, teary eyes. His heart ached and he was quick to scoop her up into his arms and lay a soothing kiss on the crown of her head.

"I'm sorry baby girl." He whispered as he bounced her gently in his arms "I just miss your mummy so much."

"We all do brother." Ben said as he placed a comforting hand on Frankie's back "I'm not trying to say that I even remotely understand the pain you're feeling brother but know that I miss her so much it hurts... And that I am here! Whatever you need..."

Frankie nodded, giving his friend a weak smile before resting his cheek on the top of Esme's head.

"I know Ben." He said softly "Thanks."

"Any time." Ben replied, giving his friend a friendly wink before grabbing his stuff to leave "See you tomorrow for dinner yeah?"

"Sure." The pilot replied softly "See you then."

...

"Why the fuck did you pick a restaurant that didn't have a parking lot asshole!" Ben grumbled as he pushed Esme's pram along the pavement, the steep hill making it a little harder.

"It had good reviews okay!" Will grumbled, "It's not that bad!"

"You're not the one pushing a pram up a 90-degree hill!" Ben grumbled, pulling a smirk from Frankie.

"You offered brother!" Frank pointed out, sniggering at the groan that he received in reply "I can take her if you're struggling."

"I am not struggling!" Ben argued and Fish threw his hands up in surrender.

"We're nearly there!" Will piped up "Just across the street."

The three of them reached the crossing, breathing a small sigh of relief when the restaurant came into view. Will crossed first with Ben following closely behind him. Something had distracted Frankie, leading him to step out a few steps behind his friends but your voice calling his name stopped him in his tracks and he looked to his left, your figure illuminated by a bright white light.

"Come back to me." You pleaded as you always did and Frankie froze. Tears sprouted as he looked at you smiling back at him as you held your hand out to him "Come back to me."

You disappeared as quickly as you appeared, a horn sounding before Ben screamed his name. Then suddenly he was flying for a brief moment before his body connected with something solid and he rolled over it before hitting the ground with a sickening crunch.

"FISH!!" Ben screamed as he ran to the pilot's side, hands shaking as he took in his friend's condition "Fish stay with me." He choked as he saw how bent and broken the older man looked.

Frankie winced as he turned his head, noting how Will was standing with the pram as he frantically spoke to who he assumed was the emergency service on his phone. He also noted that the driver who had hit him was nowhere to be seen.

Hit and run.

"Ben." He coughed after he spoke, blood filling his throat at an alarming rate.

"Shhhh." He hushed the man and stroked his hair, desperately trying to keep himself together "Just keep breathing for my Fishsticks!" He pleaded 'Please don't leave me..."

His last statement blended into yours. He could hear you again, pleading not to leave you and he only felt more confused. He was dying... it was clear that he was so surely he was going back to you.

Surely you should be happy?

"Please, Frankie... Please don't leave me."

You pleaded... your voice shaky.

"I'm coming Titch." He whispered. His eyes fell shut as darkness took him.

"What's happening?" You sobbed as hands moved you from the room.

"He's crashing!" Stated someone in the room and you shook your head as you were pushed into the hallway, still able to see everything through the glass walls of Frankie's room.

"Please, Frankie... Please don't leave me." You sobbed "Please..."

Another set of hands pulled you away but not before you witnessed them shock the man you loved, desperately trying to restart the heart that was supposed to save him. You were placed in a room where you had spent more time than you cared to remember in the past month and a half. Hours sat waiting for news on whether Frankie was going to pull through.

He'd gotten the heart he so desperately needed yet for close to two months he'd been in a coma, fighting battle after battle. This was just the latest in a long list of complications he'd suffered.

Kidney Failure... Infection... His body had even rejected the donor heart but that was something they had managed to detect early. It seemed his body just refused to get better, even if his mind wasn't willing to let go.

"What's happening?" Asked Ben as he stepped into the room after being directed here by a nurse, his brows tightly drawn in concern.

"He crashed." You sobbed as you threw your head into your hands.

"What?... What caused it?"

"I don't know." You replied, shaking your head "They dragged me in here as they tried to bring him back... I haven't heard anything yet."

Ben nodded solemnly as he sat down beside you, handing you Esme when you held your arms out to receive her. You needed to hold your baby.

"Why won't he get better Ben?" You sobbed as your eyes locked with his.

"He's really poorly." He replied softly "He needs time to get better."

"But that's just it... He's not getting better!"

"He will, Titch." Ben assured you and you sighed.

"How do you know that?"

"Because he's got something to fight for." He stated plainly.

The two of you then sat in that room for what felt like hours, glad of Esme to keep you somewhat distracted from what the outcome of this latest setback might be. The doctor appeared sometime later. His expression was difficult to read.

"How is he Doc?" Ben asked, holding your free hand tightly in his.

"We managed to bring him back." The doctor announced, "He's weak and we have had to up his anti-rejection meds."

"He's rejecting the heart again?"

"He never technically stopped." The doctor stated "We have been able to keep it under control with medication. He seems to be responding well though and we're hopeful."

You both breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief, glad that finally, something was going right.

"There's something else though." The doctor stated and both you and Ben shared a grim glance before looking at the doctor again.

"What is it?" You asked, your voice shaking slightly.

"He's awake."

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

#frankie morales × reader #frankie morales × you #frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales triple frontier #francisco morales triple frontier #francisco morales × you #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco morales #francisco morales × reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier × reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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