#not that i don't ever attempt to clear things up when it gets confusing too or anything

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[slimyenemy]

my room is now finally almost 100% cute and clean i've been dreaming of this moment for MONTHS (⁠┛⁠✧⁠Д⁠✧⁠)⁠)⁠┛⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

[skyrigel]

You are in love 11 | B.B

Part 1 of " You are in love "

Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader

Warning: smut, 18+, p in v ( rough), fingering, fluffy fluff, Idiots in love, might have used whore, use of f word( alot) double orgasm, teasing, inexperienced! Reader, horny! Reader

Rigel's note 🪩: aftermath of my " You are in love 1 ", this is the confrontation and smut part of the request. My cow is so angry at me—i write so cringe sometimes, 10 points to your house if you find 1989 ref other than title.

You can hear it in the silence...

It was only a minute after you laid in your bed, you heard it, a soft thud against your window followed by another.

Your heart dreaded because it wasn't the first time your best friend had thrown rocks at your window, first time—when he called you a duck in front of lord Ivor, a childhood memory and second when he was bored so he thought calling upon his fairer sex friend would be the best choice and another time—

This particular one was very violent against the glass and for a moment you wondered if it would break, you pushed the blankets aside, feeling the night chill settle in your bones as you pulled your night gown closer.

Your feet touched the cold floor, chill reaching up your spine as you dragged yourself to the window and there he was.

Basking under the moonlight and ever so beautiful, his cheeks flushed like he had run miles and his heart heaving, his eyes widened at your silhouette and a deep sigh escaped just after a smile took refuge on his lips, those treacherous lips.

You opened the window, he dropped the pebble.

" Benedict ! " You screamed whispered down at him, his smile grew but his expressions were pained, like he was deeply confused.

" Can we talk ? " It was loud and clear, echoing in the dark, he wasn't drunk but there was something very intoxicating about him.

You face palmed, feeling your heart sink because you still haven't forget the warm tingling, still haven't forgotten the way your heart cart wheeled along with everything inside you, crawling it's way to Benedict.

Every friendly castle crumbling in mere moments, just by remembering how tenderly his mouth moved when he was protecting you and how tenderly it would be to have it against your—

" Please, please, please, " He chanted, not attempting to keep it low, then he dropped to his knees and even in the dark you couldn't mistake the silvery bead, those were tears.

" Give me one chance, let me talk, let me—"

" I am coming ! " You leaned across the sill, telling him shush with your fingers as you backed away, running out of your room but tiptoeing all right, missing the third step because it creaked and opening the back door soundlessly to your secret gardens.

Despite the fear of getting caught and chill that was swirling, your own heart wasn't being much help, your face grew warm at the mere sight of him and let alone the other embarassing things that he did to you, just by existing.

" Are you mad ? " You stomped your feet across him, crossing your arms as he looked up, his knees penetrating in grass, like he was begging for all of his sins, like you were something to worship, like a false god.

Benedict's eyes were red in the moonish glow, he was radiating, he was crying, he was so very beautiful.

" You are really mad Benedict ! Go home, we will talk tomorrow—"

" I thought i lost you." He said, it was more of a cry but you were too baffled to form words anymore. He sniffed.

" I thought i would never see you again...when I lost you...my heart..my heart was the closest to exploding." He said, clutching his heart as his lips parted in a gasp. It was paining him but it pained you all the same.

" Oh Benedict." You whispered, your hand inevitably caressing his cheek as he shaked his head profusely.

" You don't understand how much... fuck...I came here all the way thinking you would be gone somewhere i couldn't follow...like i fucked everything again—"

" You ran all the way here ?! " You garbbed his chin, you knew it would hurt but you needed to know this.

" That's not the point." He avoided your gaze but you jerked him right up, eye to eye.

" Are you fucking mad Benedict ?! Are you drunk ? " You leaned to sniff his mouth but he only reeked of the few lemonade he downed with you.

" I...no...I am sorry." Benedict swallowed hard, his adam rolled and readjusted again and the warmness was there again, spreading through the creaks of your bones.

" That was really stupid Benedict." You said softly, you couldn't imagine what whistledown would write if she had seen him running wild.

" I know, I know...it just seemed right to me, like I couldn't stop myself even if I tried but I am sorry, i don't wanna lose you, and I meant it all, truly and completely." Benedict said, his hand grabbing your wrist like you would run away and leave him.

" Benedict we aren't talking about running..?"

Benedict's brow raised as he worried his jaw, his eyes dazed as they lingered on your lips more than it was approved by.

" I am talking about.. about my defending you but I swear I wasn't trying to be hero or some knight in shining armour, i just wanted to be there like you were always for me." He inhaled sharply, you were knocked out of your breath as you tried to breathe and speak and failing in both.

" I know..I know I have embarassed you deeply and i am so sorry, i am—"

" Benedict shut up." You yanked your hand away from his grip, breathing harder as he watched grimly, not making a sound.

" That..." You bited your lip, " I'm..." Your heart was beating too fast and your cheeks deepened in colour as you turned to him.

" Hot." You said finally, gripping your night gown as your knuckles went white, all blood rushing to your face and places too holy.

" You're hot ? " Benedict tried but a grin tiptoed it's way and it was so beautiful across his face that you wanted to feel it against your own lips. Shut up !

" What you did for me Benedict...it was...it was the hottest thing you ever did...you were..oh my god...you were on fire." You closed your eyes, feeling yourself vibrate throughout your body with just his heavy gaze.

" I thought," he recovered his slackened jaw, smiling like a star,", i embarassed you."

" You could never ! " You shaked your head, taking a step, not much, it was enough.

" And the time I called you a duckling? " He laughed, sound rich and melodic and that's how you loved him the most, free and feral.

" Well you could be an idiot sometimes." You chuckled softly, taking a deep breath as Benedict outstretched his hand.

" I know, I know...I am such an idiot and that's why I need you, I want you by my side." He said earnestly, you took his hand as he pulled you closer.

" This...it has been a torment all this time." He whispered it lowly, voice heavy as he kissed each word on your knuckles, your brain was dead in it's wake.

" Benedict." You exhaled, this would ruin you, there would be no coming back.

" I watched you leave and i...I thought what would become of me and there was only one answer—nothing, there's no me without you. I can't imagine a life where it's not us." He brought your palm closer to his lips, pressing them softly, inking each syllable.

" Benedict." You shaked your head because you would do something very stupid if he didn't stop, Benedict stood up, his knees buckling and making an odd sound.

" So you must know, it can't wait anymore because I can't keep it in, it's killing me." Oh how much it was killing you, little did he know, You felt the moment stop when he leaned down, his breath heavy on your cheek as his eyes darted to you.

" You're my best friend." He said, and you knew what it was, he is in love.

Then he kissed you, soft warm lips against yours and it was only a moment before he pulled away.

" I am sorry...fuck—"

" Don't ever apologise for that ! " You pulled him by his collar, crashing your lips again like waves meeting the shore, it was like your soul was crawling out for Benedict and nothing else mattered.

A moan escaped his mouth and your whole body shuddered at the sound he was making, those sound that drowned in your own mouth as your devoured him, you felt him grinning against you and oh you could die, In silent screams and even in your wildest dreams, you never dreamt of this.

Breathless, you spared a moment and he looked so beautiful with his swollen kissed lips beaming up with your saliva. Your.

" I... Benedict...more." your cheeks blazed, you were damn sure your ears were red because Benedict looked like he was about to die, his grin splitting his whole face in half.

" This..it was perfect ! " He said, dipping down to kiss your cheek, you thought he would pull away but he then rested his forehead against yours, your breathing leveling with his in synchronise. It felt real, all of it.

He pulled you by your waist, nose bumping in yours.

" I want to give you everything..." He breathed, " everything that you want."

" I want it Benedict." You were only half aware of the thing you wanted from him, perhaps to entwine your souls together, you weren't sure but this torment was too much.

His thumb caressed your lips and then your jaw, making stars and circles as he whispered in a amused little voice.

" We must wait—" you kissed him, hard on his mouth and you were sure someone's tooth was chipped but it melted the pain as soon as his mouth parted for you, his tongue swiping across your lower lip like a Eden's feather.

You were holding his face like it was your life support and he was too holding you back like you were his most precious treasure, his hands were slowly progressing up your thigh, your night gown sliding up. He stopped, you stopped tugging at his hair and felt him whine against your mouth, nipping in response. You guided his hand to your slick as oil womanhood, he gasped against you.

His eyes were shining brighter than every star that hanged high.

" Oh." His fingers touched you and you thought you would die just there, moaning like you never had.

" You are...you are wet." He said, his cheeks deepening in heat and colour, his smile becoming a grin as your eyes dazed.

" Fuck ! " You moaned, arching back when he swiped his one long finger against you, Benedict moaned just the same.

" Oh lord...oh lord..oh fucking lord." Benedict groaned, you were sure he smiled wickedly before his finger penetrated inside you.

The coil in your stomach lurched and something heavy dropped inside you.

" It might..it might.. might hurt." Benedict dropped his head to the crook of your neck, kissing once before he set his eyes on you.

You winced as one finger became two, pulsing inside you, your soul was no longer inside you and it was as if you were floating.

" Ben...oh—" you almost cried, your eyes tearing up when his pace increased and he was panting and shaking, his eyes widening when you came with a sharp cry, thighs shaking and turning to jelly as Benedict watched dazedly.

" Fuck i ruined..I ruined — " you looked as Benedict withdrew his fingers covered in silvery thick juices.

" Shhh... " He cooed, smiling as he brought his fingers to his mouth, you gawked as he wickedly sucked them in, humming at the sweetness. " You were beautiful."

" Can we..can we go inside ? " You were being nasty, you knew but what you wouldn't give to see Benedict, whole of him, raw and naked.

" I...I would love to but in order to keep your virtue intact—

" Shut up ! " You groaned, taking his hand.

" Anthony will kill me." He shrugged, entwinng your fingers together and they moulded like they were made for each other.

" I will kill you." You said, he smiled like the devil he was.

-

You can feel it on your way home...

" Hey." You laughed when he pinned you against your father's study, kissing you deeply, " shhh..." He smiled, lowering his head to your cleavage, licking it, placing open mouthed kisses all along.

" My father's on hunt, he will come tommorow" You whispered, the servants were the only concern and honestly, there was hardly any concern.

" Good, tommorow i am talking to you father." He smiled up at you, kissing your flesh and you mouthed all prayers you knew.

" Wh..y ? " You said, Benedict hoisted you up, his hands underneath your thigh as he carried you up, missing the third step because he knew, he has been here.

" To marry you my little kangaroo." He laughed when you deadpanned at him.

" Call me that vile thing again and I will say no." You hid your face in his neck, smiling.

" Well since you're smiling��ow"

" Not smiling! " You nipped at his skin, salty and just like Benedict, it was like a dream come true, to kiss him, to love him, to have him.

" What should I call you then cupcake ? " He pushed open the door, lowering you gently down on the couch as he backed away.

" Cupcake ? " You offered, he mouthed a 'sweet' before he removed his waist coat.

" Oh lord..." You gasped as one by one Benedict began to discard his clothes, his skin gleaming with sweat and beauty, he was like the one poets wrote poems about, he was artist but he was art in himself, dazzling and ever so mesmerising.

" C'mon, don't act like you're unimpressed." He wiggled his eyebrow, teasing as he started to work on his breeches, you felt warmth tingling throughout you, you demanded touch because you were starving.

" You're like a poetry." You said, it was more of a breath but he heard it anyway, stopping as held the last bits of dignity together.

" You have called me poetry earlier too."

" Byron's poetry."

" But poetry indeed." He dropped the last clothing, naked and bare in front of you and like every bit about him, he was beautiful.

" My snowman..." You couldn't hold back the grin, Benedict was all macho and bravado but it crumbled when he strided towards you, he so wanted you to like him, every bit of him, whole of him and you did, with your whole heart you would love this man, forevermore.

" Yours." He mouthed, coming over you, his fingers undoing your nightgown and it was revealed that Benedict was rather good with buttons.

He sensed the way your body shivered at his touch, his fingers examining the work he did there with his mouth, he looked at you, you nodded, your night gown slipped down.

" Oh my...you have been hiding this from me ?! From an artist ?! " He sniffed down your body, placing tender kisses all over.

" Really ? I don't know...never thought I was much of bea—" Benedict shut you up with a kiss.

" You're the most gorgeous person I ever met and-" he kissed you again, " my sweet little kangaroo, so please." He shaked his head.

His length twitched on your thigh and you dare not look down.

" It's okay." He said, " all yours." He added with a wink, you glanced at his hardened leaking length, red angry at its head.

A desire in you swirled, to touch it, to hold it, to claim it, you brought your hand before Benedict pulled away, scaring you.

" I am sorry, I am sorry." You threw your hands back, Benedict opened his mouth abruptly.

" Oh no, i would let you fence with it later but right now I really really want to make it good for you."

" Right...I don't know what it meant but..that fencing part Benedict?! " You giggled, Benedict laughed, placing himself between your legs.

" It...it might hurt babe." He said, you stopped giggling.

" Not much." He assured, placing a kiss on your stomach, you so needed to be filled by him, his slender fingers could make you see heaven, you were dying to think where his thickness would take you. He was going to split you, you were going to very much enjoy it.

" Are you sure.. because..we can just do any other time...like wait for marriage, " you made a face, " not that I am not interested...you have no idea how much I am dying to see you scream my name."

" Benedict." You teased, putting all your seduction in it, Benedict eye rolled fondly.

" Oh Benedict! " You said it louder, Benedict eyes were blazing, the vein on his neck was throbbing like worm set free.

" You have no idea what you have done." He practically growled, taking your hand as his tip teased your entrance, you really didn't.

Your heart stopped when only his tip pushed through your folds, your resistance at it's peak, a beak of sweat tricked down your cleavage, Benedict closed his eyes, muttering something.

" Fuck..fuck you're so tight." He hastily said, his length pressing inside, you looked at how he was only half inside but you were already panting and moaning like a whore.

" Oh fuck ! " You screamed as he pushed all at once inside you, his hips smacking against yours making an obscene noise.

" I am gonna make you see stars." He said, his voice shaky but determination was dripping as he slowly thursted, once—your head threw back, twice—you were no longer bounded in body and space, thrice—your eyes closed and it was just stars and cosmic rays, you lost count and control as Benedict set his pace in a feral way, he was pushing inside you like beast set free, his hips rolled and slammed down at you with an alarming rate, they left a burning pain before he striked again.

" Benedict ! " You were screaming, your breasts rolling up and down and he watched devilishly, penetrating into your hole, plunging inside, your jaw slackened like his, his drool dripped down as he was lost somewhere, in his own daze.

He pounded inside you, his breath caught in his throat and his face red, you only half registered when he lowered his whole body, his mouth inches away from you and his thursted one final hard one.

" Oh my god ! " He bited his lips, his knees buckling as his cry sharpened, you felt the insides of your swirl with warmness, arching back, mouth agape with moans he brought out of you, the coil inside your stomach loosened as you came, body going limp. It was the second time you felt mere smoke in existence, everything dizzied while you short circuited.

You opened your eyes to look at him, your devil, your snowman, he was panting, his hair plastered to his forehead, his smile dazed.

" Was it good? " He nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, you were aware of his juices mixing with yours inside you and it made your nipples hard, just by thinking.

" Ama..zing." you kissed his forehead, his limp cock still inside you, you liked how full it made you feel, like complete.

" I was thinking about a snowman waltzing." He laughed lowly, it's sound buzzing inside your skin, you didn't get why.

" Why ? "

" Umm...to last longer because.. because I would have come just by the way you looked at me."

" I was looking like a perv ?! " You huffed, he glanced up, his mouth easing your hardened nipple, speaking around it.

" Oh yes, like you couldn't get enough of me, you have compromised me, now you must marry me to keep my virtue entact." He sucked back again, you chuckled, feeling the corner of your eyes glistented with tears.

It was several moments gone, his head on your chest as you scatched his scalp, untangling his hair and occasionally pulling him for a kiss, he was still inside you, coaxing inside your warmness, relishing.

" Benedict." You whispered, not bothering if he had slept already.

" Huh." He mumbled softly, heavy with sleep.

" You're my best friend." you knew what it was, you are in love.

[venuzasmuse]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐞. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

— the holidays are meant to be festive, free of heartache and solemnity, but odds are forever not in your favor as you spend the holidays with your best friend alongside her sister, that broke your heart.

[rockstar!ellie au, best friend’s sister!ellie, kinda mean!ellie (for a few parts of the story)]

previous, next

warnings: reader is afab, not proofread, mature language, mentions of substance abuse (drugs), ellies a dick in this chapter srry guys, WHOLE LOTTA ANGST. smut & fluff in later chapters. POC FRIENDLY !!

this chapters kinda long because it’s still introducing the reader & ellie’s relationship dynamic so bare with me pls pls pls

upon arriving in texas, a wave of nostalgia washes over you as you peered over the horizons of the buzzing city streets.

the traffic was still— as long as you could remember— terrible. pedestrians raided the roads as if they had enough lives for the people on it and tenfold. you can recount the amount of days you'd be late for school because your brother, simon, took obnoxiously long in the bathroom. you could almost still smell his putrid sauvage cologne from here. the strong scent filling your senses— your head spun nauseatingly so.

you grapple with the map in your hand, flipping it every which way trying to give yourself a sense of reassurance as you and sarah navigated through the intersections. you loved your best friend but you couldn't sugarcoat the fact that her love for detours affected her driving skills poorly.

she'd listen to her gps for the first few hours and eventually get fed up with the alterations that emitted from the older device, completely tossing the given routes out of the window and using her intuition as a sense of direction instead.

"jesus, has texas always been this confusing?" the blonde exasperated, a heavy hand coming down to the steering wheel as a blare emitted from the vehicle.

you shoot her a glare that goes unnoticed and the car jerks as she overpasses the poor old lady in front of her.

"does it hurt you to have any patience?" you groan out. you slump in your seat and throw your head back against the headrest tiredly.

"patience never did anyone any good before." she declares sheepishly, a playful smile spreading across her pretty face.

your head lolls to the side to face the side of her head and you give her a playful eye roll.

"i swear to God, if we ever get caught in a drive by, i'd never let you live it down. even in hell."

she laughs a throaty laugh. sarah grabs your hand giving it a squeeze and shake, her demeanor excited.

"come on! don't be so grim. aren't you excited to be going back home? i mean it's been years." she switches to another lane, eyes trained on the rear view. "my dad is super excited to have you back. he said you're welcome as long as you need to be."

"that's only because we never gave him a choice before." you prompt. the two of you giggle.

"you know what i mean. i'm so hungry— maybe we can hit up mel's diner when we get there. i'd kill for their cheeseburgers right now."

you glance at the gps. "2 1/2 hours left" before y'all were to reach your destination. you groan, pulling your hat down to shield your face away from the blaring sun beaming down on your skin.

you'd be lying if you said that you had gotten any shut eye the night before. too plagued with overthinking, the dead of the night was filled with the sound of tossing and turning as you fought against yourself at an amateur attempt to soothe your own nerves.

trepidation dripped down your soul. you weren't sure how finally seeing ellie again for the first time would enfold. you had a plan to simply just avoid her but you knew you probably weren't going to keep up with that very long.

ellie was persistent and if she had any plan to resolve things, it wouldn't go unnoticed by a long shot. no matter how hard you tried to steer clear of it.

sarah knew about the reason why the two of you broke up. she was sympathetic enough to take your feelings about seeing her sister again after 2 and half dreadful years.

she witnessed first hand the aftermath of what ellie did to you. a brutal 9 nine months of you trying to build yourself high enough on a pedestal to be able to move on completely. she listened to you every step of the way, her ears open and her arms empathetic with every tear shed.

it was even worse when the media coverage began getting ahold of their band. 7 months after you and ellie had stopped talking completely due to your nasty breakup, her band rose to stardom and you could still remember how much dread washed over you to hear the sound of her playing on the radio for the first time.

you avoided her, in every way you could. if that meant no music for months until the hype of her album died down even just a little bit, then so be it.

but the limelight wasn't always as glamorous. you alongside of her family, despite not having heard from her in years, knew about how she'd been living because once the tabloids got a hold of her, the only thing plaguing the media coverage was about ellie.

who she was spotted with, newly sparked dating rumors as she was seen with a different girl nearly every month, and even the downfall of her newly acquired fame.

in pure janis joplin fashion, the height of her success came crashing down as people started suspecting ellie to be abusing drugs. it started when people began to notice how blasted she was in a few interviews. her nodding off didn't go unnoticed by a long shot.

in the spotlight, instances like this weren't uncommon.

you watch a talented person rise to the top, their talent evident as day as they showed it off to the word come plummeting down in a wave of wasted potential due to drugs and or alcohol. it was tragic and despite being as angry as you were with her, seeing the girl you grew up with live the way she was, created a moggy feeling in your chest.

eventually, the band made an announcement that their tour would've had to gone on a break due to "complications" but you and everyone else knew it was because ellie was in rehab.

as soon as she was discharged, the ongoing scarcity of contact between her and her family came to a brusque halt when joel offered for his daughter to come back home, at least until she was ready enough to face her new life again.

so when you found out that she'd be spending christmas with y'all, there was no doubt in your mind you'd have to brace yourself for whatever outcome would emerge from it.

"i'm gonna try and get some sleep. we still have a long way to go."

sarah boos at your resignation, exclaiming a few declarations about how you're leaving her to die of boredom. "you suck!"

you don't respond, simply smiling and turning your head as you're inevitably wisked away into a state of slumber.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

a somber tune draws out a melancholic melody on your record player, filling the corners of your cavernous room. the night breathes life through a soft breeze that grazes past your curtains. yet, as the sun sets and the cicadas begin to shriek, no amount of words in the english language can drown out the bitterness that sits in the pit of your chest.

no amount of rephrasing could rewrite the sorrow that consumes you whole, in this moment or the next.

you sit with the grief as your gaze lingers on the girl in front of you. ellie sits on the edge of your bed. she's faced away from you, as always, as she stares ahead at the neon lights that seep through the crevices of your room.

clouds of smoke forms around her figure with practiced cinematic effort and your eyes take her in with taut admiration.

you usually dread when the room grows quiet like this. the silence is blinding and tension is permeated in your walls. it leaves you high and dry and guts you with cynicism.

you wait for the moment for her to slip back into bed with you but it never comes. the thought of not being the placeholder of such intimacy rings in your ears like a bad case of tinnitus.

at least not this time around.

you sit up crawling towards her in desperate attempt to get her to look at you. you wrap your arms around her neck, resting your chin on her bare shoulder. empty viridescent eyes scan your face yet you can't seem to deconstruct any love tucked away behind them.

you knew deep down that what once existed fondly between the two of you was stripped away, little to nothing— a scarce void of recognition.

“what’s going on?” you hum out lovingly, as you press a prolonged kiss to her shoulder. “been quiet all night.”

the auburn headed girl heaved out a sigh as she dropped her head in her hands. she braced herself to face you, taking your wrists in her callused palms as she brought your hands to her mouth, pecking the backs tenderly.

“i.. i think we should talk.” she finally vocalizes. the words shoot fear down your spine, goosebumps arising were her lips once resided.

“about what?”

she gives you a look as she turns her body to face you, straightening her back a little bit more. “so you know how i’ve been getting to practice with the band lately? because their guitarist ended up quitting?”

you watched her for a moment skeptically before nodding.

her words are caught in her throat momentarily as she looks down once more. “well, cat and them asked me to join their band.” a glimmer of gleam passes across her face as she breathes out a breath she was holding.

you furrow your brows, a smile breaking onto your face. “that’s great! i’m so happy for you!” you exclaim, grabbing her chin in between your finger to press a proud kiss onto her cheek.

you knew how long ellie had wanted to be apart of something like this. after years of supporting her, you were filled to the brim with joy that she was finally reaching a steppingstone to where she wanted to be in life.

yet, you could tell something was still bothering her as she tensed up in your embrace. “well, they offered me to join but..”

“but..” you trail, eyes still held with hope.

“cat said she knew someone in los angeles that knew someone that could get us signed to a record label. the only downside is we’d have to move over there.”

your face fell as her words fell on sensitive ears.

“move?” you let out a nervous chuckle. “but.. los angeles is across the country.”

capturing her bottom lip in between her teeth, you watch as she gnaws down on it regrettably.

of course, you were elated for her. over the moon.

hell, you would’ve done anything for ellie to make this happen for her, one way or another. but hearing the catch of finally being able to pursue her dreams had you feeling selfishly opposed to the idea.

surely, she wouldn’t have made such a rash decision without taking it up with you first. ya’ll had so many plans that were already set in stone. all you wanted was at least a heads up if they were going to be altered to accustom to ellie’s new schedule pertaining to her band.

“so, what did you say?” your tone faltering from ecstatic to one that could’ve fell on deaf ears if not attentive enough.

“i said yes. i agreed that i’d go with them.” her word vomit rushes out like a fountain and your hands drop from her face as you turn away from her in shock. she grabs your smaller face in her hands, as she tips her head down to meet your avoidant gaze. you shut your eyes, muttering out a “shit” as you felt the pathetic rush of tears burn at the back of your eyelids.

“baby, i couldn’t pass this up. this is my chance to finally get out of this town. i’ve wanted this for so long.” she pleads, dropping down to her knees in front of you.

“why didn’t you wait to at least talk to me about it, ellie? three months ago, we were just planning on moving in together! and what? now you’re just about to dismiss any say that i had in this?”

she lets out an exasperated sigh of defeat as she bargains with her response.

“this is about my future! this is something i’ve wanted for years!” she encompasses her bottom lip back in between her teeth, scavenging her scattered brain to make this situation better.

“you can come with me! didn’t you always tell me you’d follow me anywhere?”

you scoff, shaking your head. “i can’t just pack up my things and run away to los angeles like this with you. it’s expensive there and with the money we have saved up, we wouldn’t last a year in a place like that with just the two of us. we’d need more time.”

don’t cry. don’t cry. you think to yourself as you feel the waterworks begin to churn.

“we could figure it out! cat mentioned a bunch of-”

you scoff at the mention of the girl’s name as you stood up from your place on the bed, walking over towards your window as you dug your fingers through your unkempt hair.

“i can’t believe you made a decision about this with cat before you even mentioned it to me. i should’ve known it was deeper than that.”

ellie stops in her tracks, an expression of hurt painted across her face at the idea of you believing she had concealed intentions between her and cat. but could you really blame yourself ? it would’ve been hard on any girl to see that her significant other’s time was consumed by another girl. especially with the considerable amount of times they spent alone together.

you would’ve been a fool to not suspect anything at all but your love for ellie ran too deep; you didn’t think you could handle it if you lost her to another girl. so you kept quiet, giving her the benefit of the doubt and begged venus herself for the girl to not prove you right.

“it was never deeper than anything.” her tone was stilled as she stared at you with accusatory.

“can you blame me ellie? i mean seriously. you’ve been alone with her more in these past few months than you’ve even talked to me! some days, i don’t even hear from you at all because you’re with her!” your voice goes up an octave as tears begin to spill from your eyes.

“it’s because of—”

“what? the band?” you cut her off, not wanting to hear her myriad of excuses. “i see the way you look at her. you look at her like she’s the only thing you see.” you brush past her to grab your shirt, pulling it over your head hastily.

“the lingering looks, the canceled plans, the way you never tell her to stop fucking holding onto your arms the way she fucking does!” bitterness begins to overpower the solemnity paying homage to the pit of your heaving chest as you jostle her scroll of excuses back to her.

“i mean, god, ellie. has it ever occurred to you that you still have obligations to set boundaries in this relationship?” your tone is constraint from going back to normal.

“are you fucking serious?” she snaps, the pitch of her voice blending with yours in a chaotic cacophony. “i’m trying to tell you about how big of a deal this band is to me, trying to make up solutions, and you’re accusing me of leaving for fucking cat?”

“i mean it was her idea, wasn’t it?” you countered. you were at your breaking point with ellie. you felt like nothing you said would ever change her perspective so you gave up.

you no longer wanted to fight for someone that couldn’t care to think twice about how their actions inflicted hurt on you.

maybe this wasn’t about her leaving anymore. instead, as the conversation became more clear, the realization settled when you realized you were losing her.

“i’m not doing this with you.” you watch as ellie gathered her things in fit of rage, throwing on her flannel and slipping her feet back into her converses as grabbed her bag, ready to walk out.

a feeling of dread quickly dissipates all of the fury you momentarily had as you rush towards her, wanting to resolve this before the two of you went to bed upset.

“ellie. come on, please.” you grab her face, pleading with eager eyes for her to not leave when things began to get bad.

you knew your girlfriend was stubborn. often alternating between fight or flight when reality began to corner her. but you knew, this time was different. no matter what the two of you chose to do, it would change the trajectory of your lives together.

she avoids your eyes and you feel the warmth cascade down your face heavily. “don’t walk out on me. please. not like this.”

she finally looks at you and it’s hard to read her.

“i need to do this for me. not for anyone else. i’m not going to wait for you to change your mind if some ulterior motive you think i have will always be in the backside of your mind.” she asserted, planted in her obstinance.

“if you leave now, i’m not gonna wait for you to come back.”

her eyes scanned your own down to your lips back to your eyes before grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away from her.

“that’s up to you.” was the last thing she said as she turned to walk out of your empty house. the moment you heard the door slam shut, you dropped to your knees as the tears began to pour.

if there was one thing ellie was good at, it was keeping her word. ever since the the two of you were puny little teenagers, she still managed to keep ahold of all of her promises, even the smallest most frivolous ones.

it was something you loved about her because it showed her resilience and firmness. her ability to stand her ground. but as you sit with your hot head in your hands against the comfort of your bed that still smelled like her, you wished so desperately that the one quality you admired so much, wasn’t something she attained.

you knew there was no use in trying to change her mind or waiting for her to. she was set in her ways and held no exemptions, not even for you.

it was a thick pill to swallow but you knew, the moment she walked out that door, it was over.

the next few days were filled with no contact. your phone was sparse of any calls or messages except for one from your mother asking you to defrost the chicken or the occasional check up from your friends when they learned about what happened.

your room was a ghost town. her presence haunting you as a constant reminder in every corner. you couldn’t run away from her even if you wanted to.

you wished you were stronger in your ways. it would’ve saved you your dignity if you were prideful but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to be. you were the worst at staying mad— just wanting to fix things with your girl.

you even racked up some ideas about how ya’ll could make this arrangement work in a heap of desperation.

so when you rendered yourself enough courage to face the situation at hand, you made your way over to her house. you were hopeful that she wasn’t completely set in throwing it all away.

but when you reached her front door, all you were met with was a note that joel gave you that was left to him by ellie. his eye bags were deep showcasing his worry and lack of sleep and you saw a few more grey tendrils in his salt and pepper hair.

ellie had left a few mornings after the fight between the two of you. she left no trace of her behind to be gotten ahold of and you, joel, or sarah hadn’t heard from her since.

taglist: @bready101 @st4r-b3rries @vqxen

[nurix0]

JUST FLUFF/COMFORT SCENARIOS WITH YOUR BNHA BOYS

characters: Bakugou, Midorya, Iida, Shoto

genre: fluff, confort

warnings: none, endgame Todoroki personally ig(??)

relationship: up to your personal interpretation

-he's one with physical touch or being a listener, not very good at words

- listening>>>>>

-he would be startled at first and don't know how to act but at the end he'll be "kind" (HIS type of kind)

-not the best at conventional comforting but he's amazing at his own way of confort

"The hell you're doing in my door at this time?" the blond complained at the sight of you in front of his door at 1am, he's normally not up at this hour but some assignments kept him up

You had a shit day and couldn't sleep, the only person you thought could ease things up without asking too much questions was Bakugou since well.. he was not one who cares to ask much anyway

"Can i just come in for a bit?" you voice was off and Bakugou definitely noticed that, now looking better your everything was different,.you didn't even look him in the eye, like your confidence washed away and this was the biggest challenge you ever faced

He rubbed his temple "Ugh, sure just don't bother me too much, it's already late" opening his door a bit more so you could enter, you went straight up sitting on the floor but the blonde contested "What are you doing?" you looked confused "You said not to bother so i thought —"

"Look, you can sit on the bed or something, just don't take much space" he was annoyed from how small your figure felt, figuratively speaking, you usually get on his nerver but not like this

You followed him sitting on the bed and stayed in comfortable silence for some minutes "What's up with you anyway?" glancing his way you saw his face a bit softer but firm as always, it was his way of showing he is listening, so you rambled for hours on end with his total attention

"You had it rough, just... you don't have to go back if you don't want to" you glanced at him wondering what he meant "Look... sleep here if you feel like it, i don't care" he bumped your side a bit "But if you hog all of the blankets im kicking your ass out, got it?" his playful rough tone didn't match the sympathetic smile on his face

keep it a secret but he didn't mind you clinging to him a bit at night (if it was too much he def pushed you away)

-He's def good a comforting, maybe gets nervous of what to do at first but he'll manage

- words of affirmation kinda guy

-good at comforting but not with advice

- won't mind physical touch but normally doesn't initiate it

It was dawn after a day at UA, Midorya finally finished his workout and headed to the dorms, on his way someone sitting on the roof caught his eye

It was you, that decided after a bad training to stay in your "safe spot" for some time to clear your head up "What are you doing here Y/n?" a concerned voice spoke, looking behind you saw Midorya with his soft eyes filled with worry "Oh, it's you. I'm just resting for a bit, nothing much don't worry"

The boy sat by your side "Anyone would worry about someone being alone at the edge of a rooftop" he gave a bitter laugh and hesitatingly touched your shoulder in an attempt of comfort "You can trust me to vent, I'm here for you"

That was when you lost it, looking down you started to cry your eyes out from all the stress and opened up about everything that was bothering you, Midorya looked nervous for a bit, like he was the one to make you cry, retracting his hand to himself on instinct

Almost instantly you rested your head on his shoulder, after saying everything his shirt was soaking wet from all the tears but he didn't mind "Thank you, you're the best, Midorya" the boy, unnoticed by you, blushed bashfully "Anytime, you're important to me after all" it was his turn to put his head against yours, hugging you for extra comfort

-What can i say? This man it's probably terrible at comforting, good with advice but definitely not comforting

-Def gives you some stiff hugs if, and only if, you ask

-acts of service>>>>

- Tries to stay more with you after the situation to help with anything (quality time and acts of service)

You didn't come to class for the day and as the class president it was Iida's duty to give you notes, the only thing is that you didn't answer the door or texted anyone, even your friends so everyone was worried

He was at your door "Hey, Y/n can you please open up? We're all concerned with your well-being and i need to hand you today's notes" softly knocking, again and again, but to no avail

He was getting frustrated "Look, im going to keep knocking until you open up. I need to give you these notes, it's my duty as a president to deliver them to you!" the door opened and your miserable self was right behind it, the boy was concerned right away about your well being

"What's going on with you? Are you sick? Do tou need me to talk to—" you cut him off "Look, Iida, i appreciate the notes, I'm not so good but I'll handle this with mr.Aizawa" you were about to close the door when the boy's foot got in the way

"You're not going to lock yourself in your room alone! You need assistance!" you denied his advances but he continued "Let me in, please... i want to help you" his tender voice made you feel safe so you let him in, physically and emotionally

Your dorm was a mess and you felt embarrassed to let someone tidy as Iida in at this state "Sorry, I didn't want anyone to see this mess, i cleaned up my desk today but I don't have any energy left to —"

"You sure look tired, get some rest while i clean this" Iida wasn't expecting to see this, he never even imagined you would let this happen, that's why he wanted to help, he knew you weren't in the right state of mind and that's okay, you contested but he insisted, and like that tou rested while he cleaned you room, you made sure to thank him later

The day after you went to him and thanked him, you even got a hug back huh

-I don't really think he even knows how to comfort someone

-Maybe he'll do something for you??

-It would be kinda awkward ngl

-He would try his best fr

-Says the most on point shit without thinking it means much

It's been a week that your quirk hasn't been useful for the type of training you're doing in class and that's been upsetting you deeply, either way, you couldn't dare to tell anyone, they seemed to go so smoothly that was embarrassing you were struggling

Today was another day like those and you were so tired of not being a "real hero", when you saw your score being the last one you couldn't help to excuse yourself to the change room the fake attitude of not carrying wouldn't last longer than this, but it was enough so that nobody noticed something was wrong

Except that Todoroki did notice, how could he not? You were strange all week but at the same time didn't look like it to the untrained eye at least, he could see past that facade easily, so he went after you

You were miserable sitting on the corner of the changing room, not crying or panicking, jsut wondering was this hero life really for you? "Why did you leave the training grounds like that?" looking to the side you saw Shoto, this unsettled you, nobody could know "Training was just intense, you know? Just tired" getting up you smiled at him

"I'm not one to pry but you know that holding everything in doesn't help, right?" those words hit you like a truck, how could he be so on point without knowing anything? "What?... Ha, there's nothing—" you looked at him as he stared blankly at your trembling figure "Seriously! I—" the stuttering didn't got you anywhere, it just confirmed what the boy needed to know

Realizing there's no turn backs form this you just let yourself be and opened up to him, Todoroki heard every bit and tried his best at comforting you, reassuring your quirk was good like any other, by the end of it he was glad he picked up on the hints, he knew how bottling up emotions affected someone, imagine from how long you would've kept this if nobody noticed

You whipped a tear or two that escaped "Thank you for listening, Todoroki, i appreciate it" now everything felt lighter but there was one feeling... "Hey, just don't see me as weak after all of this, kay?... " the boy looked at you softly

"Never thought of it, besides, opening up is a sign of strength", now completely relieved you and Todoroki walked out of the room right in time for the next class, it was nice having someone that knew you struggled and was there for you after all

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Immortal (Ghost x Medic!Reader Pt. 3)

"The path to paradise begins in hell."

— Dante Alighieri

Word count: 5.5 k

Summary: He knows now why he always returns to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased. What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead? (Last part of Ghost stories.)

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff, smut. Protective!Simon Ghost Riley. Graphic depictions of PTSD, suicidal thoughts and depression, mild violence. Emotional sex, love confessions, happy ending. Ghost POV.

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

No one has ever scolded him.

He's the one who whips people into shape, who makes them recall who and where they are, that Task Force 141 is no place for fuckery. Now he's the one being reminded of his place. 

Somehow it's ok to bring her flowers before dinner, but ever since he started to bring her coffee to get an excuse to see her at work, she began to shut down. He can fuck her doggy style at her place, but if he so much as lifts his mask to kiss the back of her neck at her office, she bats him away like an annoying fly.

And he's fucking confused.

He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought that women like to be courted. Now he's standing in the middle of her apartment, waiting for… he doesn't even know what. Pardon, perhaps.

"Why do you always call me lieutenant?"

"Well I can't call you Simon at work, can I?"

She's chaste and decent. Has been like that for a while now, retreating back to her role of a distant professional. 

Something's troubling her, and he tries to get to the bottom of it. Tries his best to cheer her up, even if it's absurd that someone like him attempts to do that.

"Y'could use the alias."

"I'm not going to call you that."

She reads Virgil while making it clear that he's quite ridiculous. A ghost. It must remind her of a children's book rather than something stealthy and fatal; to her, it's a grown man's sad attempt to play a superhero.

"Did you come up with the name yourself?" Her voice has a whiff of irony as she finally spares him a glance from her hard-cover poetry.

"...No," he lies, too soon. Far too soon. She catches him on it, pants down.

"You're a silly, silly man." She shakes her head slowly and returns to her book. Last week, it was Dante who had better things to offer, far better things compared to him – such as a more poetic depiction of hell.

But even with the distant aura he can't quite pierce, she gives him a concept of what it would be like to have a home. A real home where you don't have to dread the evening and everything it brings out in people. Even when he was doing the SAS Fan Dance and lying on the cold ground to have a compulsory 2-hour shut-eye, he never missed home. The weather-beaten trail and a flapping tarp were still a cosier place than the one he'd left behind. 

The closest thing to an actual home was always solitude. A few days without routine. A cold shower in the morning to wake him, but not frigid enough to kill the erection. A good, unhurried fap and some stale spit circling down the drain. No one giving him a pitiful eye for tossing old takeaway in the bin and opening the cupboard only to be met with some canned food and table salt.

Now, the first thing in the morning is the sensation of her. Fingertips sneaking their way under his arm and ghosting his stomach, stirring him so softly he doesn't quite know if he's gone to heaven. Home is a sleepy nest and slow kisses followed by the sounds of brewing coffee. Home has become a place of mundane tasks: helping her water the plants and tasting whether the vanilla pudding she made has enough sugar. Changing sheets together, listening to the fitful sea as it breaks upon the shore. Watching how she reads of the Trojan War.

When he just stands there, admiring how her manicured nails glide over the pages, she talks to him again without raising her lashes from the book. 

"Did you need something?"

…You. All of you. 

Now and forever.

"Ya wanna go out to eat tonight?"

Finally, he grabs her attention. The distance between them is sewn up so fast even a jerk like him can understand he finally made the right fucking move.

"What about your… The mask?"

He shrugs.

"I thought you liked my cooking," she gives him a smile. Sly… Foxy.

"I do. But let me feed you for a change."

He sees in that stare and the way she purses her lips that she's trying to prevent a dirty joke from coming out of her pretty little mouth. As much as he appreciates that little cunning look, as much as he loves when that mouth gets a little dirty, he's more than serious now.

"Come on. Let me take you out."

"Well. If you insist," she smiles, shuts the book, and flies to her closet to pull out a stunner of a dress.

…..…..…..

Her fingertips always make his cock stir. They were supposed to go to sleep – a rare thing, to not slip inside her after a nice lil evening. To his surprise she starts to trace the few hairs on his stomach, threading through them as they thicken below. 

He can feel how she gets tense upon seeing that he's hard and heavy before she even reaches there. But she's not tense from anticipation.

"I overheard some of the guys talking about us. Or, well, me."

His cock gives a tug, and she still doesn't touch it.

"How I'm your luxury whore."

The curtain shifts as the wind plays with it: softly, while he's ripped out of the dark safety of the womb.

"Luxury…" She laughs, but it's bitter and thick. "Isn't it funny?"

He's hard now mainly because of the fury that rises. It ripples through his chest and pulls his stomach taut.

"Was it the rookie?"

He hears his voice from far away, from under the sea, but luckily, her hand brings him back. It's placed on him again, this time further up. She likes to trace the cavity between his pecs, pet the hair she finds there, too. Sometimes, she buries her face there and inhales his sweat, then uses that spot as her pillow. It's that very moment when he finds peace if he already hasn't by then.

"You don't have to defend my honour," the night speaks softly.

So, it was the rookie.

Nothing but a boy, younger than Soap and cockier than he was when he left Manchester with nothing but a duffel bag on his shoulder. Nothing but a boy, and she knows how boys are. She knows how boys talk. She wouldn't be in the Force if she took filthy quips seriously. 

But this is fucking different. The fantasies of what he'll do to the fucker when he gets back get sicker and more beautiful by the second.

"Just… don't come there anymore unless you're injured. Ok?"

He can't hear her because the vile word overrides even the gorgeous visions of torture. It gathers up his throat as bile, and he barely has time to take a deep breath to force it down before it's too late.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." 

"At this hour…?"

"Can't sleep anyway."

He reaches the bathroom just in time before the vomit flies. The power of it forces him on his knees, forces him to take hold of the door frame. Everything he fed to her shoots up, like it was only a dream that he could make her happy.

…Are you just here for sex?

Her shy question echoes from the tiles as another retch pulls the rest of his love out. 

He's sweating worse than the time they had to operate him in the field, back when a bullet had worked its way through the naked spot between the straps of his plate carrier. The shower washes some of it away, but the stench stays, the foul word and the insolence, all the shallow things he has given her coat the insides of his mouth no matter how many times he tries to spit it away. The water only does so much, and she's still not asleep by the time he returns to her. 

The luxury is waiting for him, silky and sweet. 

Wet, even, if he wants.

"Baby… Honey?"

Baby.

Baby.

He feels his guts in his throat again but swallows them down. She's beautiful, even when sad and sorry. Sorry, and for what? For him, instead of herself and what she's been called, the spite she has had to suffer simply for lying down in the filth with him. 

"Are you okay...?"

"Yeah."

He goes to her, pulls her in his arms, and hopes he doesn't smell of puke.

"They're just words. Right?"

I'm more than just your whore, right?

Her hand doesn't shy away from the sweat that breaks through his back. She's not afraid of him, even when he's the monster she never asked for. He can respect that kind of fearlessness. 

"You're awfully quiet," she tries. 

Baby, please don't go berserk, is what he hears.

"Go to sleep, pet," he calls forth his softest voice, relieved to notice it sounds more like a lullaby than a command. He allows her to kiss him, wondering if she can taste the grave. 

"Yes, sir," she breathes a soft smile in his mouth. Then she turns and coats herself with his arm. It must feel heavy around her, but she only gives a happy sigh. "I always sleep better with you. You feel so good… Safe."

He wonders how strange it is that love sometimes feels like pain. Her words come close to a knife slowly being pushed to his insides. They're still burning when she mutters the last essential thing, already half-asleep in his arms.

"They're just words, Simon…"

…..…..…..

He doesn't know much about poetry, but perhaps Dante was right. 

The heart of hell is not a fiery lake of torment but an icy, cold, stagnant place. There's nothing there. Everything is frozen: screams, thoughts, even dreams. 

He's walked through grey rubble and drenched asphalt, through alleyways of havoc and debris, he's trekked through desolate woodland and marsh. He's run through life like it's a day-to-day race to not get killed, but the worst of it isn't the bullets or the cold or the wind or the rain. It's the sleepless nights, the inertia. His soul in chains. On those nights, he wanted to get killed. 

And yet, he's not the only one who has suffered the unfortunate event of being dragged through every plane of hell. He's not the first man to go through the funnel, nor is he the last. It only looks bad in a society where he's supposed to own a credit card and a house. It only tastes like shit when someone asks "How does it make you feel?" 

People like him shouldn't go to therapy at all. His solution was to quit playing a modern man the minute he realized he's no longer fit for that role. He's simply a dead body, reanimated to serve a purpose. He's a sharp tool, a weapon. (A zombie.)

He serves the greater good, but everyone knows the greater good is propaganda too. There's no grand fight between light and darkness. Good and evil only conduct people's choices: even his old man must've thought he was making the world a better place by playing the rebel. He told him he served the Queen just to piss that sodded bastard off, but the truth is he never served anyone. Not even himself.

Now, there's an odd purpose to his task. Now, every cell in his body is full of animus. 

He's an animated corpse, perhaps, but they forgot to bury the wrath.

"Where's the rookie?"

"Getting stapled."

"Where?"

Which room? 

Which fucking room?

He doesn't stay to heed directions. He doesn't need them; his instinct tells him enough. He doesn't even bother to knock, simply barges in, only to see that the boy sits on the bed he used to sit on, in the exact same position as him. And he knows it's not just the blood loss that makes the fucker look so drowsy and smug. 

The fury is pierced with an ice-tinged sword as he sees her gentle touch – she's tending to the wounds of an ungrateful kid with the same compassion she gives to all her patients, and the first thing on his mind is that she would make a good mother.

"What're you doing here?" 

His voice is soaked in ash, but the boy only looks up from the bed with pure, trouble-seeking gall.

"What are you doing here…? Sir."

She's looking at him too. She's pleading with those eyes. Silently, desperately. 

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

Her request only now makes sense as he sees how the boy looks him up and down and sees there's not a scratch on him. There's no reason for him to be here other than to relieve the pain in his loins.

"Well… Have fun," the rookie jumps from the table, and the rage threatens to pull him underwater like a tide. He never needed anything but his voice to stop a man in his tracks. Not size, not rank, not even his reputation, just voice. 

"My office. Five minutes."

The boy dares to give him another foul look.

"Is that all you need? Just five minutes?"

He even detects admiration in that stare – like he's some stallion, a prized old stud who receives fine mares to rut. Like the celestial woman standing behind this… boy is just some slag thrown to him like they threw to gladiators of old. His luxury whore.

The rookie finally catches the impending wrath that must swell and roil like sea inside the sockets of the skull. 

Yes, boy.

Death is coming.

"Sir," the boy swallows with an arduous blob, then walks out of the goddess's domain, finally with some humility upon those shoulders. 

The torture has already begun, and it shoots him full of sweet adrenaline. He tries to mask the rising war from her, but she sees enough just before he leaves her as well. Her words follow him but cannot penetrate the cloak of fury that shrouds him as he goes to prepare for carnage.

"Simon. I just stitched him together..."

…..…..…..

He doesn't solve the problem with a gun or a cock this time. 

He uses his fists and a knife.

It should disgust him; how much he enjoys it. It's one of those rare occasions when he almost loses himself in the riptide of blood. The things he imagines are far worse than what he finally allows himself to do. When the boy has a split lip and half his face swollen so bad he can't even see from the bruise, when the wetness dampens the crotch area and threatens to stain the carpet, he lets him go.

"Get out."

He's a different man when he rises from beside that broken boy; from next to the knife he plunged to the floor an inch away from his face to make his intentions clear. The boy is stripped of all arrogance and probably regrets the day he got the splendid idea to insult a woman. 

He doesn't have to get his hands deep into paperwork to have the rookie transferred; the boy does it for him. He leaves the base quietly as a shadow and with a face that looks like it has been forced through a waffle maker.

After that, everyone salutes him feet away.

His orders are obeyed without question, without a second's delay on missions. He has never pursued to be loved, but neither has he worked on making people fear him. Now he's not only a source of mystery and intrigue but also fear and wonder.

Soap isn't scared quite as shitless as the rest of them, but neither is he as friendly as he used to be. Price says nothing but he gets a few looks that tell him he has gone too far.

"You shouldn't have," she whispers when they're alone, stopping him in the quiet hallway. She's the only one who doesn't have fear and avoidance in her stare. If anything, the adoration in her eyes has deepened.

He has avoided her strictly, this time obeying her request not to go to her unless he has business there. He doesn't defend himself; he doesn't have the luxury to decide what should or shouldn't be done. He's not a saint nor a judge. He is territorial, though.

"You must be the craziest man I've ever met." 

She talks to his shadow as he's standing only a few feet away, unable to touch her.

"Good."

"...and the most incredible."

His sharp intake of air hisses between them as the artificial light casts shadows in electric blue. She tries to thank him for bashing a face in, all her noble Hippocratic Oaths forgotten.

She takes a step – just one, to make it perfectly clear she wants to touch him too.

"You're a brute, Simon."

The woman's eyes are a deep sea of gratitude. He wonders if she's equally as wet between those legs. Her voice says it all: she likes brutes.

The worship in her stare makes him understand why wars have been waged – this is the reason why crusaders sloshed through rivers of crimson blood, why whole civilizations were destroyed. This is why swords are forged and guns are fired. He draws another breath to swear his allegiance, an oath bound in blood.

"No one's gonna call you a–"

She crosses the final breadth of air between them and lifts his mask.

…..…..…..

The waves crash on the shore like clockwork. To him, it's the sound of limbo. 

The sea used to pull him in like a seductive pit, especially at night, during the sleepless shifts when he walked to the beach with nothing but the ghosts of all the people he had lost to keep him company. Watching all the futures and should have been's slowly drowning in the sea. 

Now he’s here with a living being, and the cold, dead sea has turned into blooming fireworks of crimson and coral. The amnesia has turned into bliss; all the treasures lost in the depths suddenly wash up on the shore like a sunken hoard.

She takes her shoes off the minute they reach the shore, then descends the sands with laughter. She could be from a movie or a magazine, gliding through bleached gold with sunbeams in her hair, sandals dangling from the crook of her fingers, heathers kissing her feet as she dives down the path. Her smile eclipses even the setting sun, and for the first time ever, he thinks it might've been a stupid idea to enlist. 

If there’s an opposite to ice and inertia, it's this. 

It's her. 

"You lied to me," she turns around but doesn't stop walking. "You have been to the beach."

She tilts her head as if reprimanding him, but he knows she's just laughing at his expense. She laughs at his name… She laughs at his broodings, she laughs at his shadows and his hubris. 

"Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No."

There's no soul out here but theirs; even the seagulls have withdrawn to rest. She stops to admire the sun, features turning soft as she takes in her counterpart. Apparently, she likes his humble tribute, the scarcity he has to offer. Some hollow bones, his opinion of a beach. Emptiness… A day coming to an end.

"I have no words for this."

"It's just a beach," he offers, and swallows when she turns. When the fuck has he ever felt embarrassed? His mask is gone, so she can see him swallow again as she approaches. It's the strangest thing how she can still cause his heart to hammer in his chest. He's used to stepping into a hail of bullets, driving a truck through a wall, waiting for that last unaware step to lunge forth and slit a man's throat. The organ never wailed then.

Her eyes take in his every flaw and scar, the rotten work on his skin before she wraps her hands around his neck. 

"No. No it's not. This is paradise."

She has to rise on her toes to kiss him, and he's glad he got rid of the mask. There's nothing between him and the taste of summer anymore – she reminds him of some bright tropical drink, something pure and sweet and innocent, pure fucking fun, something he has come to understand and define only through movies and tv. 

And he knows now why he always comes back to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased.  

She has introduced him back to the world: the sun, the birdsong, the simple, good life. How it feels like to have curtains, or bake just because it's Thursday, or walk barefoot on the beach in order to feel the burning sand on your skin. 

What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead?

"Simon," she shivers into his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't want people to think that… That we're just…"

"Pet. I know."

"They said you didn't trouble yourself with relationships."

Years of instinct and training make his spine tingle. He's holding another future in his arms and hopes it's not possible for a sea to swallow a sun.

"They?"

"Well, John. Captain." 

Her lashes hide what's going through her mind, but he can tell she's feeling shy from the way she shifts in his embrace.

"I asked about you. In spring. If there's someone… waiting for you."

He wrestles down a bitter laugh. The only lover ever waiting for him was nothingness in that chair; the only wife he came home to was shades, shadows, and dust. 

But he's starting to understand what she's trying to say. How, without even thinking about it, he just made the strongest possible declaration of not being here just for sex. He couldn't have sent a louder message with that boy.

Because not only Jonathan Price know that she's his. Soap knows too. Gaz knows too. Everyone working in Task Force 141 knows, even the fucking scrubbers and accountants know what's going on. Everyone knows that Ghost is real, and alive, and troubles himself with a relationship.

"I dreamed of you, you know." Her lashes flutter open, and he's met with the perfect example of total surrender. She's more than happy with the outcome, and why the hell shouldn't she be? Actions speak louder than words. He of all people should know that.

"Love–"

"Do you remember the day I found out you were a smoker?"

"...Sure."

She laughs, taking him back to the odd meeting in the yard when she was prying her suffocating latex gloves off, and he was trying to find some solace in a cigarette because he couldn't have her. 

"I was so angry at you. Playing with death at every turn..." 

"Yeah. Not the perfect man."

"But you were. You are." 

"Pet. If someone's perfect, it's you."

"No… I'm a hypocrite. I wanted you to just–just take me against the wall. After your stupid smoke."

He always wondered if she was suffocating too. In her gloves, in her beauty, in her sterile, medical, professional chasteness.

But he had no fucking clue that she–

"Or during, I don't care…"

Even the thought of her wanting him to tear apart her facades shatters the last sane thought in his head. He has tried to be civil, tried to suffocate the longing, but apparently, he doesn't have to. The image of burying himself inside her cunt while taking a drag from the thing she despises even more than his name or his mask or his guns is too fucking much. The fact that she views a dog like him as a perfect man makes his cock answer her call like a good, stout soldier. 

"Is that so?"

She stops breathing for a moment as he takes a drag from her now. She's raw whiskey straight to an empty stomach, the way his mind goes blank from sliding his mouth over the column of her throat. She tastes of sea there, and it's not pulling him in; it's pulling him under. The open-mouthed kisses make her jolt, he even draws out a moan or two; they swell between his legs. 

"You like that…?"

She answers to him with a soft whine. A soft nib of her ear, and her hips reply with a roll. The woman tries to latch onto him by gripping his shirt, threatening to do permanent damage to the fabric.

"No walls here, pet. Gotta take you on the sand," he gruffs in her ear, cock hard and ready from her tight little breaths. He could bet half his money that she's wetter than November down there. He could drag his cockhead across her cunt and the sound would be divine. 

"Simon–"

"I'll light a cig first."

"Stop teasing," she laughs, voice thick with hunger.

"...Roger that."

His hand is on his belt before he knows it. It's pathetic how much patience he has if he needs to crouch in a downpour and wait for a kill, but at the sight and smell and taste of her, he can't stop himself from wrenching his belt and pants open like a starved dog. It's a rush born of fear - that any time could be the last time.

She seems to shiver from his stare only when she lays herself upon the warm sand, naked as can be. She's like a vision on that beach: leaning on her elbows, thighs slowly parting, revealing the glistening sex between her legs. And she's fucking dripping, like an overripe peach. He could've safely bet all his money on her.

"How do you want me?"

Fucking fuck… 

He's walking in a dream: the most beautiful woman in the world is lying naked before his feet, bathing in gold, asking how he would prefer to take her. He doesn't even bother to get out of his clothes; he merely tugs his pants down and crawls between her legs, relishing the tight gasp he gets from being so crude.

Her eyes grow wide at the sight of him there, so close to her core, cock hanging heavy just an inch away from that tight cunt. She tries so hard to look composed while lying under his shadow, to not make it obvious that she wants that ugly thing inside. And it does feel like sin not to spread those legs and plough right in, especially when his fingers meet her silk and find that she's already throbbing.

"Want you just like this, pet," he rasps while dragging the pad of his thumb around her clit. Her back arches on the sand, forcing his fingers deeper into the dripping fruit.

It's different, her wetness; not thick and halfway there, but flowing, leaking, soaking good. The pussy is so glazed that he slips at the first attempt to slide a finger in. Her walls grip him the second he's seated deep, making it known how much she appreciates it that he's not here just for sex. 

"Someone's greedy," he's breathing rough, and she whines – he only gets to two fingers before she demands him to fuck her already.

"Want your–I need your cock…" 

She's begging, poor thing, almost crying on the sand, and he has no fucking choice but to remove his fingers and grab his cock instead.

"Have to go slow, love."

"Riley–for god's sake, now."

"F' fuck's sake…" He stumbles forward, all but gracefully, forces the tip on her soaked cunt as delicately as he can before pushing right in. She cries from the spread, fingers curling in the sand: a futile attempt to take him in without fainting.

"Tried to warn ya–"

"Don't you dare stop," she gasps, eyes full of love. As always, her wish is his command, and the tightness makes it an endless journey to bliss. The basest parts of him think about dying – having a heart attack on the same beach he almost drowned in, about ceasing to exist just for the sake of knowing that nothing is as good as this. 

He's deep as can fucking be, and it's still not enough – it's never enough. He collects her in his arms with a frustrated grunt, cock giving a tight pull only when she's finally safe and snug in his embrace. It's a tight cuddle that leaves them both breathless.

"Hold me tighter..." 

It's a soft order, but he can't get any closer: chest plastered on her skin and balls pressed against her ass, the sand grinding against her back as he makes love to her. She’s not made of twigs, but he’s far bigger than her, already threatening to crush her with his weight.

"Tighter…" she begs on his lips, tries to pull him closer with her whole being.

"Pet, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she sings, completely shieldless. Something warns him of danger, a reset far worse than drowning or being buried alive or shooting himself in a lonely apartment. He tries to calm her down with a kiss: he knows she loves kisses - but there are tears in her eyes, and his heart is hammering, hammering… 

"Simon, do you love me…?"

She asks that question right on his lips, and the first thing in his dog mind is that it's a stupid thing to ask when he's balls deep inside her and still trying to get closer.

"Yeah," he almost chokes on it, knowing it could be their wedding day and he would still choke on it because it doesn't taste like salt or metal or grave.

"I love you," she whispers. "Do you understand?"

No. No…

I fuckin' don't–

"And I'll always be here for you."

To his shock, there’s no sea water in his lungs, no dirt in his mouth. He’s not choking on anything, he's not in fact dying at all: he’s floating, somewhere between the sun and the sand and the sea. There's no more rush, no jaws of death snapping at his heels. He doesn't even long for heaven anymore. Not when there's a paradise on earth.

"Love, I need you to–need you to focus," he tries to stutter nonsense while she's pledging herself to him. Of course she only laughs at him: it hits him with the sweetest warmth.

"You're so silly…" 

"Yeah? I know." 

He's laughing too. It's just a few notes that get taken away by the sound of waves. It's just a breath from deep within, and still… Her gaze drops to his mouth, a flutter blinks back more tears.

"I love it when you laugh..." Her eyes shine brighter than the sun, riding the spine of the sea as one perfect tear rolls down her cheek. "Love it…"

The sun sets in tangerine, his new favourite colour. There's a whole bloom out there in the sky when she comes, fast and bright in his embrace. He comes right after, just from trying to stay inside her warmth, deep inside her, around her, and she says it, again and again and again… Until he breathes.

….….….

"Remember when I said I could've managed? Without you," she asks when they lie on the sand, skin on skin, watching the sun set beneath the onyx sea. The waves rise and break, but around them, the air is still. He's still inside her as she pulls his hand over her heart, entwining their fingers together: it's the softest little arrest, but her squeeze doesn't lack strength. 

"I lied too."

"I know."

She chuckles softly. "Is there something you don't know?"

"...Yeah. Why you're here out of all places."

She turns her head from the sunset into the falling darkness of him, and he wonders if that's why she's here... To be with his night. She said that people always get the dark wrong: that it's not supposed to be scary at all. That the purpose of darkness is safety, security, that there are tales where the day chases the night, and the night chases the day. She said it's because they're in love with each other.

"You really don't know…?" 

"You were smiling before we met and now you're crying all the time."

She looks up at him with trust and devotion, his daylight, his sun. There's none in the sky anymore, but it doesn't matter. It lives in her eyes.

"People cry from happiness too, Simon."

[paperdice]

HIIII how are youuu?? Sooo I wanted Golden cheese angst bcz we love angst right? …right? EHEM!!! One shot Mom golden cheese x child reader, the scenery is like when she’s gonna turn off the virtual world, what would she say to her child to calm them down? THABK YOUUU

𝐦𝐨𝐦!𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

"Let's not make much more out of all this, it pains my heart enough."

You could only watch as everything unfolds before your tiny eyes, watching your dough glitch was so uncanny,, What was happening to you and the other cookies? You felt like a harsh waterfall of fears and anxiety was just poured on top of you. Your head was hurting, why was it hurting?

You looked around for golden cheese cookie but your mother was elsewhere with the outsiders, but you didn't know where. Panic was creeping up on your paranoid confused mind with its long claws scraping against hope itself.

"momma?? has anyone seen my ma?? the queen??" you pleaded at your cookies for help but the panic and confusion was also spreading to their minds too.

A small body like yours was easy to miss, and your throat was up against the tight lump of fear which made it difficult to speak any louder than an inside voice. This made you frustrated, puffy red cheeks with tears wanting to roll down on them to finish the saddening piece.

Everything was too much, you just wanted your momma.

Like any child would be under unexplained pressure, you sat and began to cry where you were. You never had to go through anything like this before, nothing was even close to this, you were always pampered and safe. never had you thought to be separated from your mother in such dire time, because she always told you she'll be by your side.

"oh there you are! my poor baby bird.. I'm so sorry..!"

Your mothers voice shined a bright light to the darkness that was holding you in its grasp. Quickly looking up and running towards your mother, arms reaching out for her protection away from the world. Hiccups raided you when attempting to speak but all that came out was babbles and loud whimpering.

"oh no, you.." the distraught in her voice was clear, kneeling down and hugging you like it was the last hug she'll give. Her wings cradled you with its soft feathers,. "wh-whuAH!- is haH-haa-peen-nningggg. .. mommaa pl-leaze.." crying to tell her not to leave you again.

The most painful thing shes ever heard. Her baby trying so hard to talk through their fright after being left alone for how long. Her heart being broken is an understatement, it was stabbed and swollen, trying to stay strong for what's next.

Forcefully shutting her eyes by the time her own tears began to stream down her face. But she can't let you see that, you've been through enough as you proved.

Wiping away her tears with her arm, still holding her child in the other. She needed to do this.

She needed to do this right before shutting down her kingdom, but her heart aches so violently against her.

This was the closest shes gotten to her baby after the kingdoms perished, she doesn't wanna lose you again, she doesn't want to let you go. Losing the real you was the most difficult so she doesn't care that you're virtual because you felt just as real.

She gently holds both your shoulders and looks into your now redden eyes.. "I know there's a lot to explain, but.. I think its better not to uh, dull on it too much. because everything is okay." she smiled and felt bittersweet to speak more when she saw your face gleam as bright as gold, with faith in her words. "My gem, I've noticed how your dough has been getting paler as of late. Have you been getting rest?"

Have I been getting enough rest lately? hmm.

"I don't know, I can't remember.. is it that bad momma?" Worries was heard within your voice, "Nothing serious, just concerned me a little since it doesn't look good on you... How about you get some rest." she felt her brow flinch at the end of the sentence, was this the right way?

"mhm! can we nap together again?" .. "of course we can, anything you want."

A genuine smile was now on her face remembering all the times you two would nap, everytime you wanted to sleep you always invited her to join her. Even at the most uncalled for moments, your obliviousness spoke volumes of your love for your mother.

"I promise to nap with you whenever your small heart desires, no matter how many times you ask I'd do anything to be with you again."

Be with me again? ma's talking funny

"But I'm right here! And your bed is waayyy over there! let's go rest!"

"Yes you're right that's quite the far flight huh? How does sleeping in my arms in the meantime sound? Just like your real freshly baked days"

You don't exactly remember those days of course but you know your mother loved it based on how many times she'd reminisce about the memories. You didn't want to leave her side so you nodded and began to get comfortable, giggling at how goofy you felt. You were too big for this you thought.

"everything will be okay, sleep tight my love, I will wake you up when our morning comes.." tears falling as she saw you close your eyes and smile, "I love you ma." you said nuzzling on her inner arm, not realizing that you were fading away.

"I love you more, so much more.."

hellooo!! I'm doing alright how about you? I hope well, I also hope you like the angst! I had to resharpen my angst writing skills since its been a minute sobsob, thank you for the request and you're welcome! come back again if you're thinking of rolling another <333

[lexis3npaii]

can openers

minho x fem!reader

826 words

fluff and a bit suggestive

inspired by the third prompt on this post by @novelbear !

as always if you see spelling or grammar mistakes, no you don't :)

masterlist

You eye all the tools laid out in front of you. Can opener. Lemon juicer. Potato peeler. Carrot peeler? What’s the difference between a potato peeler and a carrot peeler? They’re more or less the same thing, no? Whatever, maybe he’ll explain that in the lesson. Soon, Minho returns and sits across from you at the table. He clasps his hands on the surface and looks you directly in the eyes. You look between him and the tools, urging him to say something. 

Minho tightens his lips as he folds his arms across his chest, and places a can on the table. You glance down at the can and then back at him, with a confused look on your face. Minho gestures to the items, willing you to make a move. You slowly grab the can and look back at him. He nods gently. Then your hand hovers over the can opener, and again your eyes fall on the man in front of you. He gestures with his hands for you to keep going. But this is where you’re stumped. You attempt to use the device but fail miserably, somehow almost taking off your finger, which prompts Minho to stand and grab the objects from you. 

“Alright. that’s enough.” he says in a steady voice. 

“Hey you barely even gave me a chance.” you whine, bottom lip jutting out. “What about the other ones?”

“You just almost cut your finger off with a can opener, jagiya. There’s no way I’m letting you near a potato peeler.” Minho explains, placing all the kitchen tools in their rightful place. 

“You’re so lucky you have me, seriously.” he calls from the kitchen. 

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, and place your head on his back. “Oh you’re so right. How would I ever open a can without you?” 

“You don’t even have to worry about that jagi.” he says still with his back to you. 

“And why’s that?”

Minho spins the both of you around in one swift movement. Your back hits the counter softly, as he cages you in with his arms. “Cause we’re never gonna be apart.”

You can feel your face heat up, thankful that your blush doesn’t show easily on your skin. “Wh-what? You planning on marrying me Lee?” you try to mask the fluttering of your heart with some good old fashion teasing. But of course that doesn’t deter him. This is Lee Minho. The king of teasing. And he always has the upper hand when it comes to shameless flirting. 

“Of course baby. I thought that much was clear.” he let’s the words slide off his tongue, punctuated with a smirk. 

Although, on the inside you’re a blushing mess, you don’t back down. “Well I think the future Mrs. Lee Minho needs some more confirmation.” you glance down at his plump lips, still in a smirk, but stretching into a full smile upon hearing your request. 

Minho lifts your chin up with his hand. “Oh do you?” 

“Yes absolutely.” 

He runs his tongue over his teeth lightly and focuses his gaze on your lips, getting closer to your face if that’s even possible. 

“Who am I to deny the future Mrs. Lee Minho.” 

Finally your lips meet. You've been together 2 years now, but every kiss still feels like the first. You’ll never get enough, and if Minho’s manner of devouring your mouth tells you anything, he probably thinks likewise. Somehow, you end up sitting on the counter, Minho in between your parted legs. If you’re not careful, things could escalate too quickly. But to your surprise Minho pulls away, as you slightly chase after his lips. 

“Let's save that for after we say I do, okay?” he breathes, out of breath. 

You pout and slowly run your fingers through his hair. You know he’s right but in the heat of the moment, all you could really think about are his lips on you. 

“Plus…” Minho pulls the lemon juicer out from behind you. “I really wanna see you try to juice a lemon.” a huge grin spread across his face. 

You throw your head back. “You just wanna make fun of me.” You say while pushing his chest. 

“Yes. Yes I do.” he moves to the fridge and returns with a lemon. “But you love it. Or else you wouldn’t have agreed to be my wife.” 

“Mmmm never agreed to that baby boy.” you grab the lemon from him. 

“Maybe not now but you will.” He speaks while getting closer to you until his mouth is right next to your ear. “Plus that makeout sess was all the answer I needed.” 

You shiver a bit but giggle nonetheless, throwing your hands up in defense. “Okay okay. You’ve gotten me hot and bothered enough. Now lemme turn you on with my grunting from trying to juice this lemon.” you remark, jumping down from the counter. 

“You always know what I want jagiya.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i'm back after so much time. i'm in the beginning stages of outlining a new screenplay for school, so i've been in a writing mood. i did write this with a darker skinned girl in mind (hence the blush line) but really it's pretty general. i hope you enjoy and, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. have a blessed day!

[yakuza4you]

collecting what he's owed 𖥔 ݁ ˖

彡 : ̗̀➛ content tags/warnings: dead dove do not eat, majima is a creep, plot develops the more you read, drugged noncon, smut obv, exhibitionism, dry humping, glove as a gag, corruption, spit as lube, asphyxiation, bdsm, power difference, dacryphilla, squirting, biting, tad bit of spoilers from the majima saga chapters

彡 : ̗̀➛ characters: majima goro, terada, uematsu, other tojo clan ppl, random off-screen men mentioned later on

彡 : ̗̀➛ relationship: majima goro x reader

彡 : ̗̀➛ word count: 3.5k

The distinctive sound of a familiar voice rang in my ears, a melodic hum singing a tune as the office doors swung open. Majima held a cocky attitude, strutting into the room with his body swaying with each step. Every officer and patriarch eyeballed his strange arrival, a few whispering to each other.

Confusion plastered many faces, the informally dressed man making his way to the clan captains seat. I stay planted next to Terada, questioning the bold patriarchs' actions.

The first to speak up is Uematsu, demanding answers from Majima. Uematsu earned that spot fair and squ- well, earned it his own way. So, why the hell did all the sudden Majima strut in and take his future seat?

Uematsu's rambling is cut short by a loud clap, a clap to signal his men to roll in through the door as well. All of the patriarchs have different looks on their faces. Some are still confused, trying to process this whole situation. Some angry, already vomiting up degrading accusations, while others are completely silent.

A wheelbarrow is pulled in, money spilling out of the openings. The men pushing and pulling it in panting from the heaviness alone. Their faces strained with agony, especially the one in the front.

"I heard the next clan captain was gon' be determined by revenue collected. And in that case, I guess it's gon' be me, ya?" Majima chuckles, his laugh exploding into the room as he plops down into the chair, getting too comfortable in it.

Eyeballing Terada, eyeballing any of the other patriarchs in the room, none give me a look of desperation back. I try not to look at Majima, settling with the ground instead. The tension in the room alone can be felt from miles away. "I think this matter can be discussed in our next meeting." Terada clears his throat, attempting to dismiss the room effectively.

"N'uh, I believe ya owe me for this shit. Hell, it's rare for me to even be able to get my hands on this much money." Involuntarily, my eyes glare up, accidentally meeting his one good eye. I can feel his eye pierce into mine, quickly shifting them off of his to try not to get any unwanted attention.

Majima The Mad Dog of Shimano snarls his teeth at me before averting his burning glaze away, "Why is she even at this meetin'?" The man speaks, in a way as if he had all the authority within the room. Expecting quick answers, tapping his heels against the ground. He's visibly uncomfortable, constantly shifting in the clan captains chair.

An outbreak of protests echoed into the room, Majima frowning with annoyance in response. His irrelevant question was ignored reasonably.

"Slience!" Terada swiftly yells, regaining control of the room. "As the chairman, I am postponing this matter for later." He's adamant. Firm with his words. Every man in the room remembering whose really in control, focusing their attention on Terada.

I've always looked up to Majima ever since I got involved with the Tojo Clan. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't intimidate me. Being Teradas' right-hand man woman meant that I had to sometimes talk or work with Majima when it came to bigger things than just his own family. After a short break of quiet, Majima adds to Teradas' demands. "Right. I don't want the position anymore anyway. The girl'll do fine."

The topic of me is brought up again to the whole room. My train of thought is erased by Majimas' proposition.

"Come here, doll." The sound of his leather glove colliding onto his leather pants makes a snapping noise, adamant that I listen. I exchange concerned looks with Terada, questioning if I should actually do it. He gives me an unclear answer, so I follow Majimas' command and abide by our differences in ranks.

I'm hesitant, taking my time to walk over towards him. Once I get there, I face him dumbly as if I'm unaware of what he wants. Looking back at Terada, I try to plead with him one last time. My face stays focused onto Terada as I shift my body and lean my body onto Majimas thigh.

"What ya being shy for?" My weight is soon pulled fully on top of him, his hands on my hips to stabilize me. "Pretty lil' thang, ain'cha?" The promixity between our two faces close in, and in which I try to keep my distance. Any attempt to move back from him fails due to the grip he has on me.

"Majima-han, please, this really isn't necessary." I whine, pulling at his arms that are now fully wrapped around my waist. He watches me struggle for a good while before Terada finally cuts his act short.

"Enough, Majima. This room is to be dismissed immediately." For the third time attempting to empty the room, everyone finally takes their leave. Majima lets me go and run off while he shortly follows on after me. Teradas eyes glare him down as he watches Majima disappear into the hallway.

-

Fixing my knee-high skirt, I rough out any bumps and creases to make sure I continue to present myself in a modest way. Ever since the incident in the meeting room, I've been catching Majima always in the same place as me, coincidentally. The whole time I've worked with him, I keep things strictly professional as told to do so. However, the sudden change in his behavior disobeys that.

While getting ready to go home from the Tojo Clan HQ, I noticed something off about my car. I quickly ran over to inspect it, checking for any damage or issues. A flat tire. But not just any kind of tire, a slashed tire. As I run my fingers over it, thinking of how much it'll cost to fix it, Majima appears behind me.

"Ya car got somethin' wrong with it, hm?" he peers over my shoulder, checking out the work of his own. I groan with digust, trying to keep my focus on my tire and ignore him. "I was jus' about to call a cab, ya could catch a ride with me, doll." His hand rests on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"No, Majima. I'd rather walk." Rejecting him, I pull away from him and start walking as I prepare to call a car shop.

A cab pulls up, one that Majima had called. "It'd be rude if ya said no now, already told the driver they'd be getting paid for two." His smug smile plasters his face, opening the door for me in anticipation. With hesitation, I follow along with him and get inside the cab as he gets in next to me from the other side.

Majima pats the driver's seat, indicating that he's ready to get going. I'm practically hugging the window at this point, keeping plenty of distance between me and him. His manspread reaches out into the middle seat, almost into mine.

"I thought ya had respect for me, not very respectful to be avoiding me, doll." He spats out, getting subtly close enough to caress my thigh with his gloved hand. Getting more towards the middle seat, he shifts my legs to lay on top of his thighs. I try setting my protests aside, too scared of what he'd do if I did so. His position being much higher than mine keeps me quiet, allowing him to have his way with me.

My skirt is rolled up, giving his hand room to pervertedly inch up my thigh. I wrap my arm around his neck to hold myself up to prevent my head from bumping into the window due to the awkward position he has me sat in. "Majima-han, we're gonna get kicked out of the cab if this continues..." I mumbled, trying not to sound like I was demanding him to stop.

"The driver ain't nothin' to worry about, girl." I automatically get the hint from him. He paid the driver to shut up and just drive. There are no rules during this cab ride, which makes my heart drop. The way Majima abuses his authority sends shivers down my spine. Why did Terada have to turn down Majima becoming Captain? Now I'm the makeup reward for all that money.

I feel Majima pull the rest of my body onto him, now sitting sideways on his lap. I place a hand onto his chest, praying that the ride ends soon. His hand under my skirt gets closer to my panties, a big smirk plastering his face yet again. "Lighten up a bit, ya should be honored to be getting this kinda treatment from me." He speaks into my neck, placing light pecks to the sensitive flesh. I slowly try to convince myself that this could be worse, forcing myself to accept it.

His thigh starts to bounce, trying to use levity in a situation like this. Or was it to get me to hang onto him more and get closer to him so I don't fall off of his lap? Who knows which one it is when it comes to Majima.

As soon as his fingers glaze my panties, the driver comes to an abrupt stop. "This is it, Majima-sama." The driver nervously spoke, tapping on the steering wheel with their hand.

The cab door pushed open, Majima getting out first before pulling me out as well. He gets a good grip on my wrist before swiftly jogging away from the cab, not paying the driver.

"W-wait! You forgot to pay me," the driver shouts, bummed out that they fell for his trick.

I look around my surroundings when I get a chance, realizing that we are at his construction site. He guides me through the secret entrance before running down the stairs to the hidden palace below. "Wow, it's pretty down here," I say, trying to change the subject away from... the original one of why I'm even with him.

"Jus' down this long path is my office, doll. All I want is a drink with you. Considering that you're what I get from all that revenue I collected, hm?" He questions, placing his hands on my hips as we meet eye to eye. I don't answer him. I simply pull my eyes off of him and to the ground.

Before I knew it, the large decorated doors closed behind me as well as Majima. The office was empty. The only thing in it was a large fish tank behind a desk and some support pillars to the sides of the office. I swear there was even an echo accompanied by any sound made in it.

As I took a closer look at the desk, I saw a few control panels. My curiosity getting the best of me, I go to press a button on it. Right before I managed to, both of my hands were pressed down into the table with just one of his own. Majimas chest meeting with my back as he pins me to the desk.

The warmth of his voice hits the back of my ear, the close proximity causing goosebumps to form up my arms. "I got you a drink, ya'know to ease you up, pretty."

"Majima..." I whine out, trying to shift out of his hold but to no avail. A comforting shushing sound from him quiets me up as his other hand offers my lips the glass full of a sultry light brown liquid in it. Shakily, I wrap my lips around the rim of the glass. Tilting my head back, he dumps all the glass empty into my mouth. A strong taste attacks my tongue, causing me to struggle to swallow it.

I'm not a big drinker, but I could tell there was something off putting to the taste. It was not normal. A tear falls down my face as it runs down my throat, burning anything in its path. I naturally gag, yet still managing to keep it down. Majima sets the glass down, caressing my forearm as a way of praise.

"Atta girl." He verbally praises alongside the touch. My head is turnt towards his face from behind me, his tongue licking my burning lips clean from any liquor that had escaped through.

Oddly enough, the one glass of liquor hits me like a bag of bricks within only minutes. I'm woosy, and the only thing keeping me awake is the feeling of Majima grinding up against me as his gloved hands roam under my blouse. Any movement I make is weakened, my eyesight failing on me. The last thing I hear before blacking out is Majima chuckling to himself before catching me mid fall.

-

My vision starts to fade back, and with each blink, I gain more back. I'm greeted with a soft plush pillow behind my neck and the sensation of my legs being messed with. Not knowing what the feeling exactly was, I tried to shift my body up to be able to tell. However, it came to my realization that my legs were hoisted up onto a familiar faces' shoulders.

Any sound I had attempted to make was quickly muffled by his own glove in my mouth. Instinctively, I go to remove it out of my mouth, but my hands are slapped down to the sides of my head. I peer my eyes over him, watching him kiss at my ankle, his thumb rubbing at my ankle as well. I take notice that his jacket isn't on him anymore, his pants being his only article of clothing on him besides the other glove.

Making sure I keep my hands down, Majimas hands find their place back at my hips, pushing them against his pelvis. While I was passed out, my skirt was removed, leaving me in just my panties. I'm laid out for Majima on full display. Every time I struggled, it only fueled him on more. He made sure I would struggle with the way he grinds against my clothed sex. I could've swore he had us in one of those fancy rooms we had passed on the way to the office as we had an audience.

Something about the way he looked made my desire for him awaken. His always maintained hair, now tossled and messy, his face as pretty as ever. I know this shouldn't be happening, though. Never should two colleagues be involved like this. Is that why he drugged me? He knew I'd never actually say yes to this willingly. How long has he felt this way for me? Did he use what happened in the meeting earlier today as an excuse?

All of the confusion turns into stress. Light tears begin to roll down my face as he sees this right away and begins to coo at me.

"Aww, what's wrong? No need to cry, doll. I'll make sure to take good care o' ya." My tears are kissed by Majima then wiped by his thumbs. He gets a hold of my cheeks, pouting at me in mockery of my own face. The glove in my mouth soaking up all of the waterworks coming from my mouth, growing an even darker black than what the glove originally was. Him realizing this, he pulls it out, saliva strings snapping off of the glove as he tosses it to the side in disgust.

In relief, I breathed out quiet moans and pants to recover from the little air restriction that gave me. Giving me little time to catch my breath, my body jerks up into an arch from his subtle touch on my clothed clit.

"Really? That's all it takes? So pathetic..." Majima laughs at my reaction, talking to me as if I'm another one of his enemies. My mind as scrambled as it is, I involuntarily grab as his wrist. "Move your hands." A demand. Before he took action himself and swatted them away, I kept his hand still as I rocked my hips against his fingers. Turning my head to the side, I grip the pillow and shove my face into that as I begin to lose myself.

Majima gets a kick out of my desperation, and so does the male audience watching from outside the room. Some of them even fondling themselves through their own pants. Majima rips my blouse open before sliding one of his hands up my bra. He gives my breast a squeeze before pressing his thumb into my nipple. While lost within my own pleasure, I failed to notice that Majima had replaced his hand with his rock-hard dick. Now, rubbing himself off on my panties.

I plead for him now rather than wanting him off of me. I don't know what's gotten into me. But I need this, I need him. My cunt aches for him, more than just friction. Majima himself was a melting mess, trying to keep himself together but failing to do so. Impatiently, my panties are pulled to the side. Majima covers his hand in his own spit before rubbing it into my cunt as lubricate.

As I realize this is really happening, I try backing out like I even had a choice from the beginning, but it's too late. He had leaned forward, locking my legs over his shoulder and bending my body. I tap on his forearms that are wrapped around my thighs to hold them steady. His sweaty physique uncomfortably pins my body down as he teases my entrance with his leaking dick.

The way our slicks combine together into a sticky one, every glide of his dick giving off a lewd pornographic sound. Finally, he lines himself up before guiding himself in. With the position he has me in, he's deep inside of me, and it already hurts. This is the first time I'm taking him.

"It hurts, please stop... Majima..." Of course, he pays me no mind. Clearly, he feels good, and that's all that matters to him. Majimas mouth is agape, his hair falling into his face as he starts to push himself deeper before pulling himself out and repeating that movement. The way he stretches me out burns, causing me to claw at his arms to try to get him to stop. Again, the more I struggle, the more he gets off to it.

What I didn't expect from him was retaliation. My neck is greeted by his one gloved palm and given a rough enough squeeze to the point that my airways were almost completely blocked off. He'd give me second breaks to catch my breath before tightening his grip again. Those tears from earlier had broken out again, but this time, my cries were louder. Which made him take his other hand and cover my mouth. I bite down onto his palm, drawing blood from how hard I bit down.

"Ya're something, huh?" He moans from the painful sensation. I only fuel him on more with the way he begins to piston into me powerfully. Lifting my head, I watch as his dick appears out my cunt before slamming back into it, causing my head to fall back and roll into the pillow. To my surprise, I started getting off to his fucking. I slowly felt my body grow warm, building up an orgasm in my stomach. Every thrust from him was brutal. No mercy was shown.

At one point, I thought I'd pass out from all of the sensations at once, but he kept me awake by removing his hand from my neck and using it to instead rub unto my clit, which did not help relieve the overstimulation I was experiencing. Being pushed over the edge, I feel myself convulse, squeezing my hips around him as I intensely cum around his dick. His reaction to it is different, because I didn't just cum. I'm absolutely mortified to realize that I had squirted all over his torso. His face isn't an unpleasant one, just one of surprise.

"Somebody got a lil' too excited" He shames me in a teasing way, delivering light slaps to my clit before slowly continuing his pace. His face uncomfortably clenches up with each thrust, his own orgasm threatening.

He leans over to my ear, biting on the outer shell before slurring, "'m gon' paint you with my cum, pretty." With one last roll of his hips, he pulls out, rubbing himself off before ropes of his cum plaster my chest. I feel as if he's louder than me, moaning for everyone to hear as he finishes. Sweat drops falling from his forehead. Majima gives my cheek a slap before shoving his thumb in between my lips. I taste the sultry left over cum on his hand, dumbly sucking on it.

Majima collapses onto me, whispering concerning things that I can not process at the moment. However, I do know that this wasn't a one-time thing, I'm his now. Whether I like it or not.

crds to @cafekitsune for the dividers

[tennessoui]

3 or 60 for the Stacy's mom AU pretty please?

thank you for sending this in <3

[from this list of prompts] / [Stacy's Mom AU]

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

honestly as much as they'd both probably enjoy wearing each other's clothing, their styles and color choices are just so different that it's too noticeable and both of them are committed to flying under the radar with their relationship. the most they could get away with is probably anakin dumping his cloaks on obi-wan's shoulders at the slightest shiver from a slightly chilly day. obi-wan now owns like. 12 of anakin's cloaks. he has no intention of giving any of them back.

i imagine obi-wan attempts to give anakin a poorly carved jappor snippet after he reads about the cultural traditions on tatooine. it's really really ugly and it sort of looks like someone's hacked it to pieces and then set it on fire, but master skywalker takes to wearing it religiously.

also i think master skywalker's fascination with obi-wan's hair grows deeper now that he gets to play with it whenever he wants and lace his fingers through it, etc etc, and he takes a lot of calming joy out of playing with it at night if he's awake and obi-wan's asleep, which turns into braiding different sorts of hairstyles into his hair. obi-wan takes to wearing them around the Temple when he's awake - they're much fancier than the padawan braid and much, much more elaborate (because anakin can never do anything half-assed)

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

lmao ok i think obi-wan's preferred sleeping position is with anakin draped on top of him which anakin is happy to accommodate. but anakin also runs hot, and obi-wan hates being hot in his sleep so anakin often wakes up to obi-wan-shaped fists and feet shoving him away (only to get cold a few hours later and pull him back closer as if he's not a jedi master but obi-wan's personal weighted blanket)

anakin doesn't really mind but he definitely fantasizes about retiring from the Order, convincing obi-wan to follow him, and moving them to some arctic snowy planet where obi-wan is always a little cold and never ever shoves anakin away during the night

snippet (pertaining to question 3)

At first, Obi-Wan is inclined to believe that Quinlan is doing this on purpose, out of some practical joke or in an attempt to tease him and prod at him as if they're still padawans. As if Quin doesn't have a padawan of his own now.

Obi-Wan blinks down at the young girl's upturned face. "Uh," he says, glancing up at Quinlan and resolutely not turning to stare at Anakin, who he can feel shaking with silent laughter beside him.

"Please," Orka adds, placing her hands behind her back. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wonders how in the Force such a sweet child became Quinlan Vos' padawan.

"Uh, well," Obi-Wan says. "The thing is..." he stares hard at Vos, but the other man just looks expectant and slightly confused, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the tall duracrete pillar of the fountain behind him. "I think actually Master Skywalker would be thrilled to help you with your hair, Orka."

Quin raises an eyebrow. "Seems unlikely," he mutters, just low enough for Obi-Wan and Anakin to hear. Obi-Wan flushes even as Orka stomps her foot.

"But I want you to braid my hair, Knight Kenobi!" she says. "You have the best hair in the entire Order, all the padawans think so! Please braid mine to look like yours!"

Obi-Wan winces. Behind him, he can feel Anakin's hair traversing up his back to tug teasingly at the end of one of his longer braids. It's incredibly unhelpful. So is the fact that his lover is sitting there and laughing about this whole thing instead of trying to find some way to be helpful.

"The thing is, Orka," Obi-Wan says, clearing his throat. "I don't. Ah. Know how to braid your hair."

Quinlan and Orka both tilt their heads to the side in perfect mirror of each other. It would be cute if Obi-Wan did not feel so incredibly close to humiliation.

"What, you can't figure out how to braid someone else's hair?" Quinlan asks with his eyebrows firmly knitted together. "I'd think it'd be easier than doing your own. Less need to be...you know. Flexible. To get it done. And I mean, I know you're flexible, but..."

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, even as he feels Anakin's chin come to rest on the top of his shoulder. Oh of course, he's no help at all when faced with a youngling's innocent request for assistance, but the moment Quinlan Vos even slightly alludes to his and Obi-Wan's shared sexual history, and Anakin has to say something.

"I braid his hair for him, little one," Anakin tells Orka, reaching out and tucking a longer braided piece of hair behind Obi-Wan's ear. "What Knight Kenobi is too proud to say is that he doesn't actually know how to braid at all."

Orka's eyes widen and she turns to look in between the three of them as if this is an incredible, total betrayal.

Quinlan's own eyes also widen, but he looks more like Life Day has come early. "Oh," he says. "Oh."

"Shut up," Obi-Wan snaps in forewarning. "Whatever you're going to say---"

"But it's always all pretty by breakfast!" Orka protests, eyebrows knitting together. "Do you braid his hair for him every morning? Even before you eat?"

Anakin's Force signature is far too smug. He's enjoying this far too much. Obi-Wan is far too in love with him anyway. It's terrible for his health and his pride.

"Sometimes adults like to have sleepovers just as the younglings do," Obi-Wan says delicately. "Just as the younglings do," he repeats loudly when both Anakin and Vos snort. "And yes, sometimes Master Skywalker enjoys braiding my hair. During those sleepovers."

Mostly, Anakin enjoys braiding his hair either in the aftermath of sex or sometime during the night when Obi-Wan is asleep and malleable and Anakin is kept awake by some nightmare or another. Mostly Anakin enjoys braiding his hair because it's the only sort of claim he can lay on him--not while they're both still Jedi.

And mostly, Anakin. enjoys braiding his hair because he spent years seeing Obi-Wan walk around the Temple with another master's braid hanging down his shoulder, and he'd hated the sight of it.

"Oh," Orka says. She considers this new information before she turns with narrowed eyes to Anakin. "So you can braid my hair."

It sounds like a threat. This time, it's Obi-Wan who has to cover his snort with a cough.

[hunters-vigil]

request: could i request something fluffy with mavuika and a fem!reader? like maybe they're cuddling while stargazing but the reader just ends up focusing more on mavuika's beauty instead. maybe some kisses as well. thank you very much!

Thanks for the request, anon, I hope this is okay.

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller.

Untouched bedding that was soft to the touch was all Mavuika found when she returned to her chambers. The moon's glow lit up the space, the candles burnt out rather than lit. You were nowhere to be seen, but the bedside table was strangely bare. Ever since you'd began to spend more nights in Mavuika's chambers, some of your things had joined you.

Your journal was missing, plus the larger blanket throw that sat on the end of her bed. It was made from some kind of plant apparently, you loved the feeling of it on your skin when cuddling with her late at night. Natlan was often hot, especially after the volcanic activity caused accidentally by Mavuika's workouts outside…

The view from her chambers was stunning, but they didn't often include a pair of feet dangling from above.

"There you are, my love. How did you get up there?" Mavuika leaned out of the window, looking up to spot you sat on the flat roof of her chambers.

Your eyes lit up as you looked down to meet your lover's gaze, "I climbed. Look, the skies are clear enough to see the stars tonight!" you failed to hide your excitement, watching as Mavuika made her way onto the roof from the window, much more gracefully than your attempt had been. Luckily for you, only the baby saurian you were looking after was there to bare witness to that.

The baby saurian who had curled up on the blanket, sleeping with his head next to your thigh. "Paimon asked me to watch him while she and the traveller deal with some business. I think they have ways to travel across the continent that we can only dream of…"

"I see…" Mavuika hummed, taking a seat on the blanket next to you, her arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close, "I missed you today during my workout."

"You just want to bench-press me… um, isn't that your constellation there?" you quickly changed the subject, pointing up to the sky to distract Mavuika as you hid your face in her neck.

"Maybe, you could also help with hip thrusts." Mavuika pressed her lips to the crown of your head, diverting her gaze up to the stars, "Indeed, that is my constellation… then if you look to the right… I am unfamiliar with that constellation…" She frowned, that constellation hadn't been there 500 years ago.

"Oh, that's the traveller's constellation… but I only know yours and their's… could you talk me through the rest?" you bit your lip, turning towards your darling as she beamed at you.

"I would love to…" Mavuika pressed a brief kiss to your lips, smiling as you let out a quiet whine for her pulling away too soon.

Whatever the pyro archon was saying went in one ear and out of the other with you, your gaze lingering on her face as she talked. Something about Xilonen, Iansan… but your thought stayed on how pretty Mavuika was. Her red hair that lit on fire, her sun eyes when they weren't covered in her sunglasses, (that you had stolen on many an occasion) her smile… she was beautiful and powerful…

"You're not even listening to me anymore are you, my ember?" Mavuika turned her head, raising an eyebrow with a smirk as you cleared your throat, heat radiating from your face that rivalled the heat that came from the pyro element itself.

"'My ember'? But I don't have a vision, let alone a pyro one?" you frowned slightly, but Mavuika kissed away your confusion.

"Not yet, you mean." She corrected you, using her free hand to tilt your chin up so you'd look her in the eyes, "and you are my ember, you keep my fire burning even when this fight against the Abyss feels never ending…"

"I love you." you whispered, leaning into her warmth as Mavuika smiled, closing her eyes to appreciate the moment fully.

"And I love you." she whispered back, leaning into you to press another kiss to your lips. The stars (and the traveller's sleeping tepetlisaur whelp) were long forgotten as the two of you were more focussed on kissing instead.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hi! can i request ken x (male) reader who’s from texas and breaking ken’s idea of the patriarchy (mostly the realities of cowboy life lol) thank you!!

"Now what're you supposed to be, a cowboy or somethin'? Because it looks like you're goin' to a fashion show upstate."

Blinking owlishly, Ken spun around on his heels, coming face-to-face with you. He looked at your clothing up and down, noting you had a hat similar to his, along with ripped jeans, cowboy boots, and a buttoned plaid shirt.

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion, not seeing an apparent difference.

Nevertheless, he realized you were another human male who was trying to talk to him, and he was excited! This was his big chance to learn more about the patriarchy of the Real World!

But he didn't wanna let his eagerness show too much, so he leaned against a nearby pillar, keeping the books tucked against his side.

"Nah, I ain't goin' to no fashion show....partner..." He made a poor attempt at mimicking your accent, which he noted was heavily Southern, and it took all your willpower not to laugh your ass off.

Yet you couldn't help chuckling anyways, which made the blond pout as he adjusted the brim of his hat. "Awh I'm only teasin'." You shook your head. "I will say it does fit ya pretty good. Haven't seen anything like that back in Texas."

"...oh really? Thanks!" He put a big smile back on, trying to sound cool and casual. "Sounds like a fun place. I'm just here..seeing what this world's all about...getting accustomed to the patriarchy. Man, I wish Barbie told me about-"

"Hold on..." You stopped him in his tracks, being perplexed by several things he just said. "What about the patriarchy? You act as though it's a lifestyle-"

"Is it not? Because I see it all around us!" He spread his arms out. "It's incredible! Everything's backwards but yet...I'm just amazed! This world caters to us men!" Then he stepped closer, showing you the books in his hands depicting studies of horses and patriarchy, a sparkle in his eye. "Look, these books have already taught me so much!"

You blinked, taking one of them and frowning as you recognized the barcode as being from the school your cousin attended. "Ya realize you stole these from a school library, right-?"

"Back in Barbieland, we Kens had none of this stuff!!" He ignored your remark, yanking the book from your hands as he continued to babble on and on and how "awesome" the patriarchy is while pointing to a nearby horse statue.

He's acting as though this was the first time he's ever heard of it, firmly believing that it's all about men and horses.

That would've convinced you that this guy was either insane or living under a rock all his life....had he not mentioned "Barbieland", "Barbie", and "Ken".

'As in...the dolls my little cousins played with?' You pondered. 'Well it would certainly explain the outlandish outfit..and how it doesn't look like any lights are on upstairs...'

"So.." You cleared your throat, he was quick to shut up and let you continue, blinking as you offered your hand. "Before I forget...the name's [y/n]. A pleasure to meet ya."

He studied your gesture intensely, before putting forth his manliest handshake possible, his eyes lighting up when you laughed and complimented his strong grip. "And I'm Ken, the pleasure's all mine."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Well, [y/n]. You seem to embody everything a human man is, so...you got any advice for a fellow man who only just recently learned of all these great luxuries?" He raised an eyebrow.

You thought about it for a few moments, letting his hand go as your gaze went back to the books tucked under his arm. "Yeah, uh..for one, ya seem to be holdin' onto this "idea" that patriarchy's all about the horses. I hate to break it to ya....but it ain't that simple."

"....wait, it's not..?" He blinked in bewilderment, looking to the books and frowning. "Are you sure? Because these books told me-"

"They're outdated an' used for history projects at school. They don't accurately showcase modern cowboy culture, which is what ya seem to be enthralled with."

"...these don't???" His voice became higher-pitched, becoming utterly devastated that he was lied to. "But if it's not about horses..then...then what about the statues, hm? And those officers riding them?!"

"Ken..in this world anybody can ride a horse if they wanted to. You just happen to see more guys than gals doin' it."

"Oh..."

"Look, it's true that more men are in charge of stuff here in LA, but the patriarchy is really just a messy system that harms both sides." You frowned slightly. "It ain't somethin' I'd wanna idolize."

"...but why?"

You sighed, unsure of how you could possibly dumb it down for him even further. "'cuz it's turned some of my own friends and family into vile dirtbags who think the world owes them everything. I'd hate to see ya fall down that same pipeline."

He nodded in slight understanding, but seemed rather sad as he hugged the books to his chest, feeling like his dreams were shattered just as he began to realize them..

"I thought it was just like Barbieland..."

"Ya'll got a matriarchy there?"

"...I guess..? They write all the constitutions and stuff."

"And...how do they treat ya?"

"Like we're accessories." Ken huffed, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "They aren't terrible, but...I only have a good day when Barbie looks at me..which...hasn't been happening lately. I was thinking if I could show her the cool horses and stuff...she'll see me differently. See me for the man I can be."

You never expected for this conversation to derail into you trying to resolve a doll's identity crisis, but it's clear he was holding onto the misconception that the "Real World" was just opposite of Barbieland--where men had it all here and ruled without flaw.

That was far from the truth.

"Now changin' yourself for a lady isn't what ya wanna do, son." You patted his shoulder, causing him to look up at you in astonishment. "You're good enough as you are. But I take it that deep down...ya just care about the horses?"

He nodded again.

"Then..how about instead of reading this misleading garbage--" You tapped the binder of one of the books "--ya talk to someone who's lived the authentic cowboy life? Somebody with experience?"

Looking all around, he seemed confused for a moment, before his gaze returned to yours. "Like....you?"

"Yup."

"Isn't being a man and wearing this not enough?"

"It's a wee bit more complicated than that. It's hard work. But if you're interested in that sort of life, I can tell ya all about it." You offered, smiling as you watched the grin return to his face.

"I'd love that. Now if I don't need these stupid books, then I'll just--" He went to toss the stack into the nearest trash bin, but you were quick to intervene.

"Hey, hey, hey! Ya can't just throw away school property like that!"

"...but you just called this "garbage"."

"It's a figure of speech, Ken." Sighing, you just shook your head, taking the books off his hands. "You'll learn a lot about that here. Let's just go return these and I'll tell ya all about my life back in Texas. Whatever ya wanna know, I'll do my best to answer."

Ken's eyes shimmered at the prospect of hanging out with another guy..like all the other humans he's seen. That's all he truly wanted, really--just to bond with someone and not be in some aggressive rivalry unlike what he had with the other Kens.

He's lucky he ran into you.

"Can I ask something now?"

"Sure..if it's less than ten words." You humored him.

"Do..you..own..horses..? That's four." He grinned, counting on his fingers just to be sure of it.

"I do. Poor things couldn't take the dry heat of Texas, so they came along with me in a truck. I'll show ya pictures after we return these books."

Ken nodded eagerly, unable to hide his excitement as he followed you back to the library, ready to learn more about your culture.

[13as07]

Patience #3

(Jiraiya Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to unknown]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,453

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Nicknames/Name Calling: Little One, Sensei, Sweet Girl, Princess, Sweetheart, Obedient Girl, Sir, Sex Addict

Exhibitionism (public sex)

Age Gap/Power Indifference (teacher/student)

Creampie

Little rougher domination

Spanking

Improper use of a hairbrush (yes, like that. Sorry, not sorry)

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     The skin of my chest burns as it rubs against the tree bark. Sensei's big hands are wrapped around mine, pressing our hands against the tree. His head is rested against mine, praises spilling from his lips as he ruts into me. Jiraiya's voice is breathy as he speaks, huffs of oxygen mixing with my praises.

     "Little One?" He whispers into my ear, his hot breath tickling me as he speaks.

     "Sensei?" I whisper back, my focus stuck on the village gates. They're less than twenty feet away and very much in view, which means we're very much in view.

     Kisses brush against my head, the soft touches tucked behind my ear. A moan bubbles in my throat from the soft touch, a nice counter to Jiraiya's dick bullying itself in my pussy. "We... we can't..." he mutters, thrusts getting sloppy.

     "We can't what?" I ask, shifting my hips backward to match Jiraiya's thrusts. The past twenty-four hours have been almost nonstop sex. Sensei seems desperate for me, even more desperate than I am for him most days. I like when he's like this when he's so hungry for me.

     "We can't... be all over each other," he mutters, shoving me forward as he bottoms out. This is a new thing for us too, Sensei filling me up. Ever since Jiraiya's infertility confusion earlier this week, he's been more than eager to fill my cunt every chance he gets.

     "Why not?" I whine, pussy clenching in an attempt to keep Jiraiya inside me. It doesn't work, his cum leaks down my legs, coating me both inside and outside.

     His fingers dip down, scooping up what has spilled out before shoving it back into me. "It's unprofessional, Sweet Girl. Besides, I need to talk to Tsunade about... this." I whine again, a mixed response from the fingers curling in me and Sensei's words. He chuckles at my whine, kisses pressed into my clothed shoulder blades. "You're fine, Sweet Girl."

     Jiraiya's hands move to cup my hips, squeezing me before he fixes my clothing. Kisses litter me as I'm shuffled forward, Sensei's hands grab at any part of me he can get to. "Sensei?" I hum, the feeling of him leaking out of me again causing shivers down my spine. "You're pretty all over me for it being 'unprofessional'," I tease, a smile playing on my lips.

     "Hush Princess," he mutters against my skin, head picking up to scan the gate entrance. When no one falls into view, Jiraiya's head dips back down to suck another bruise onto my throat. His hands swoop down, toying with my clothed pussy as he slowly moved us forward.

     Yearning seeps from my Sensei, even as he pulls away from me. "Sensei," I purr, wrapping myself around his arm, making sure his fingers still ghost over my core. "Are you going to ignore me again?" I make sure my pout is evident, tilting my head and poking my lip out. "What if I get needy? Then who am I supposed to do?"

     I know what's running through his head. I know the memory of our bathroom quickie is rolling around that noggin of his. At the time, I couldn't tell Jiraiya being upset was from jealousy, but the environment of the rest of the work dinner made that clear. I have full intentions to use Sensei's jealousy to get what I want, only if he puts off talking to Lady Tsunade too long of course.

     His hand tugs out of my hold, gripping my face and forcing me to look into his eyes. "Don't you dare," he hisses, eyes intense and daring as he looks back at me. "Go ahead, try your little act. See how far that gets you. See how empty everyone else makes you feel compared to your Sensei." The last sentence is whispered in my ear as Jiraiya's fingers cling to my cheeks.

     When he pulls away, his eyes are still tense, the same tenseness they have while he's buried deep in me. "I'm just kidding, Sensei," I mutter, my hands clinging to his arm, trying to tug his hold off my face.

     My eyes flicker down to my fingers, getting my head shoved upward so our eyes are locked again. "Joke like that again and I'll beat your ass back into obedience, you understand me?"

     "Yes Sensei," I whisper, rubbing my thighs together. I like how gentle and soft Jiraiya treats me, but seeing him this wound up is sexy.

     "That's my Sweetheart," he coos, the sparkle of his eyes coming back as he pecks my nose. "Be an Obedient Girl."

     "Yes Sensei," I repeat, my obedience being rewarded by the lack of a grip on my face.

     I scurry after Jiraiya, a step or two behind him as he leads our way through the village. "Sensei, where are we going?" I ask, skipping forward a bit to grip the back of his shirt.

     His steps slow down a tad, letting me press my hands against his back. "We have to report to Tsunade, Little One."

     "That's boring," I murmur, tapping my fingers against him in different patterns, a way to work out my nerves. "Are you going to talk to her while we're there? About us?"

     "No."

     "Why not?" I whine, switching back to clinging to his clothing.

     A chuckle brews in his chest, echoing out and pulling the attention of some of the civilians to us. "You don't need to be present during that conversation, Sweet Girl. Don't worry your pretty little mind, I'll talk to her soon, have some patience."

     "Promise?"

     "Promise."

                       ————————————

     My lips are captured again, rubbing against god knows who, and god knows I don't care who. "You're hot," the man mumbles against my mouth, his tongue sliding between my lips to wrap around mine.

     "Thank you," I giggle, tugging away from the man. He smiles at me, his pearly whites making his brown eyes shine more. His eyes jump around my body as his hands slide under my shirt, fingertips clinging to my sides. "So, what are you doing at the Hokage palace?" I ask, shifting my head around.

     I busy myself, nuzzling his shirt collar out of the way before latching to the skin of his throat. "I'm... a... ah... bodyguard." The answer comes out as the question, the man's hands dipping into my sides even more.

     "Oh ya? For who?" I ask, eyes shifting up to take in the man's face. His skin is smooth and almost pale, making the chocolate shading of his eyes and hair stand out. He's a pretty boy, definitely not someone I could see as a bodyguard.

     "The Hokage."

     "You're Lady Tsunade’s bodyguard?" I grumble, standing up straight again.

     "Ya. Why are you here?" He asks in return, body leaning against me more to push me further into the wall.

     As I predicted, Jiraiya still hasn't talked to Tsunade despite the fact we've been home for a few days. With us being home, we've been busy from sun up to sun down. Old students, members of the Anbu core, follow Shinobis, fans of Jiraiya's books, and everything in between eats up all our time, leaving me even less limited time with my Sensei.

     That paired with Sensei not wanting to be all over me - or over me at all - leaves me with no attention except when we're at one of our homes. Even then, we're usually too tired or Jiraiya is too busy with whatever project Tsunade has him working on to pay me much attention. Hence, the random bodyguard all over me in a deserted hallway of the palace.

     "Jiraiya is having a meeting with the Anbu Chief," I answer, wrapping my hands around the bodyguard's belt, making sure my fingertips dip between it and his pants.

     The Shinobi's eyes widen as his breath hicks. "Are you one of Jiraiya's students?" He mutters, fingers sliding up to dip under the underwire of my bra. I hum a yes, playfully tugging on his belt as I bite my bottom lip.

     Jiraiya and I aren't together. He hasn't asked to be with me, to take me on a date, to be exclusive. We're just coworkers, teacher and student, fuck buddies. We haven't spent any time together besides work or sex. Sensei isn't holding up his end of the fuck buddy deal, so why not find that attention somewhere else?

     "Ya, I'm his newest student, Sir," I mumble, flickering my eyes up as my fingertips slide to the buckle of his belt. I soften my eyes, doing the doe shape Jiraiya likes so much as I look up at the man. "Is that an issue?"

     "You're... where's your ID badge?" He mutters, hand jumping down to grip my wrist. His face is paler than before, lips set tight as he looks down at me.

     "Why?" I ask, tugging my ID out of my pocket and showing it to him.

     His eyes scan it, face shifting to a calmed expression as he exhales. "Jiraya tends to teach fresh from the academy kids," the bodyguard mutters, his grip on my wrist going soft.

     "Oh my God. You thought... oh my."

     "No!" He yelps, face flushed. His hands press to the wall next to my head, keeping me trapped by his frame. "Well not at first but when you said you were training under Jiraiya I just... I wanted to be sure you weren't... I'm not a pervert," his words are rushed, his face getting redder the more he speaks.

     "Could convince me otherwise," Jiraya's voice booms through the hallway, startling the both of us.

     "Hi, Sensei," I call, ducking my sights under the bodyguard's arm in search of Jiraiya. He's fuming, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set, eyes hard, and smoke almost visibly shooting out his ears. "How was your meeting?"

     My question is ignored. Instead, Sensei marches down the hallway, anger bubbling off of him the closer he gets. "Jiraya, Sannin, sir," the bodyguard races out, body dipping in a bow once he pulls away from me.

     "Genma," Jiraya calls back, glare still set on me. "My student is too young for you."

     "She's only... ten years younger... sir," The Genma guy answers, still bowing, eyes locked on the ground.

     "That's not so bad, Sensei," I pipe up, smiling up at him as I mock his stance. "After all, you're thirty years older than me."

     "Ya, well, I don't have you pinned to the Hokage Palace wall, rubbing my boner against you," Jiraiya hisses, bending down so we're eye to eye. My smile widens as I snap my mouth open to answer. Sensei beats me to it, hand covering my mouth to cut off my response. "You're being a disgraceful shinobi," he berates, a warning to fall back in line shoved toward me through his eyes.

     "Sannin, sir?" Genma interrupts, standing straight now.

     "Get out of my presence," Sensei grumbles, sights still set on me.

     "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The bodyguard rushes out before scurrying down the hallway, leaving me alone with a very pissed-off Jiraiya.

     I pull back from my Sensei, set on pushing out a berate of my own before I'm stopped again. "You know good and well you'd be thrilled to be humping me against the wall too. Or maybe not, since you seem to not be into me anymore."

     "Little One," he calls, tone warning as his hand jumps forward to cling to my face. "If I had it my way, we'd be locked up in my house for the next week doing nothing but practicing scenarios for my new book, but," he scuffs, tugging my face closer so we're nose to nose. "We have a very important job for our village. I cannot drop everything every time your pussy aches for attention. Stop acting like a spoiled Princess."

     "You haven't paid any attention to me, Jiraya," I huff, shifting my head to the side. "You said you'd talk to Tsunade but you haven't. It's all your fault we're not having sex, much less anything else. I can live awhile without you in me but you won't give me any undivided attention."

     "Oh ya? Is that your issue Sweet Girl? Is that why you're acting out?" Sensei grumbles, forcing my attention back to him. "You miss me? You miss my attention? My dick, you sex addict? You miss my little kisses and touches? You miss our dinners alone?"

     "Yes," I whine, pouting as I cling to my Sensei's arm. "Like me back, Jiraiya. Pay attention to me." I feel like a baby, whining for his attention, for his time. I'm sure I look like a toddler throwing a tantrum because my high-ranked teacher doesn't have time for special treatment. "Like me back," I repeat, settling my sights on his eyes. They've gone soft, their glint back as he looks down at me smugly.

     "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I know I've been busy," he coos, his hold going gentle before he litters my face in soft kisses. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

     "Sure you will," I groan, rolling my eyes at his empty promise.

     "I will, because I like you back," he whispers into my ear, littering my jaw with kisses. "We'll go out tomorrow, okay? A nice dinner all alone, and I'll give you all the attention you want. Just be patient, Sweet Girl."

     "You said that earlier this week. I have been patient. We're not going to get to eat alone, we never do. Hurry up and talk to Tsunade," I whine, trying to tug his hold off my face.

     "I will. Today. I promise," Sensei coos, hand rough against my cheeks again as he coats more of my skin with kisses. "But," he adds on, eyes back to being cold as he looks at me dead on. "Tonight I'm going to beat your ass red since you want to be such an unobedient girl."

     "Why?" I ask, his promise making me tingle as I think about Sensei's big hands making my behind sting.

     "Why?" He chuckles, a wide smile on his face. "Because, Little One, you went and acted like you're on the market for anyone to have. You are mine. My student, my kunoichi, mine, and apparently filling up your tight little cunt and marking you up isn't enough proof for you," he hisses, lips brushing against mine. "You... are... mine." The last three words come out slow and cold, making me tingle even more. "Repeat it."

     "I am yours," I echo, rubbing my thighs together.

     I don't get to keep the simple stimulation, Jiraiya's free hand clinging to my knee to rip my thighs apart. "I have to run an errand for Tsunade. You, Sweetheart, are going to go home, strip, and sit on my bed with your head in my pillows and your ass in the air. You are going to wait, and wait, and wait until I am done. If you even dare to touch yourself, I will overstimulate you until you feel like you can't breathe, am I understood?"

     "Yes, Sensei."

     "There's my Obedient Girl," Jiraiya praises, pecking my lips a few times before he shoves his house keys into my hand. "Use those patience I've taught you."

     "Yes Sensei," I repeat, my arousal quickly building from his words.

     "Sweet Girl," he coos again, giving me a deep kiss before he pulls away from me. "Go home and wait."

                       ————————————

     Jiraiya's bed smells like him, his scent is even more evident with my head buried in his pillows. For once I did what was asked of me, propping my ass up and head down. My hips and knees burn from kneeling on his bed for so long, but the promised arrival of my Sensei has my pussy tingling with anticipation.

     The sound of the front door opening makes me clench. I pulse again when the bedroom door creaks open. "Little One?" Sensei calls cockiness soaked in his words. "There's my Obedient Girl."

     "Welcome home, Sensei," I mumble into his pillows, hands clinging to them. "How was your errand?"

     "It was fine," he mutters, his footsteps filling the room as he walks closer. The bed dips when Jiraiya sits down, causing nerves to rush down my spine. "How has my bedroom been?" He mocks, his fingers light as they run through my folds.

     "Good," I whisper, soaking in the soft touches that have been lacking lately.

     Sensei's fingertips poke just a bit into me, massaging my hole as he toys with me. "You've been very bratty, Sweetheart," he coos, hand skipping up to rub soft circles on my clit. "I'm worried my spoiling of you is making you rotten, Princess."

     "It's not," I whine, shifting my hips backward to try and get his fingers deeper in me.

     Jiraiya's touch is pulled away from me, making me whine even more. "Hush, Little One," he orders, tapping my pussy. He stands up, making the bed shift back into place.

     "Sensei?" I call, shifting so I can watch him through my legs. His back is turned away from me, the sound of him messing with the stuff on his desk filling the room. "What are you doing?"

     "I told you, Sweetheart, I'm going to beat your ass red," he answers, turning back toward me. His hairbrush is wrapped up in his hand, making my pussy pulse again. My knees click shut, trying to cool my neediness.

When Jiraiya gets back to the bed, his free hand slides through my hair, clinging to some of the strands before he shifts my head, face buried in his pillows again. “Stay like that, Sweet Girl. I don’t need the neighbors hearing you,” Sensei mutters, hand sliding out of my hair and running along the bumps of my spine.

Once there are no more bumps to trace, his hand shifts focus to my ass, massaging the tissue of it. Soon the skin-on-skin is replaced by the plastic of the brush. “Sensei!” I yelp, jerking forward.

“Oh, you’re fine spoiled Princess,” he coos, an arm scooping me up by my waist and tugging me back in place. Jiraiya massages the spot, only making the stinging worse. The sound of my second swat fills the room before the new pain coats my behind.

Sensei’s gentleness is nowhere to be found, swat after swat landing on my ass, making my skin tingle and cunt ache. The more I’m spanked the more tears threaten to spill out. “Aw, look at that,” he mocks, his free hand dipping down to run his digits through my folds. “You like this, don’t you, Sweetheart? Your pussy is all wet from your spankings. Let me take care of you, Little One.”

Kisses litter the sore skin, Sensei’s fake attempt to comfort the pain he caused. Despite the promise to get me off, his hand falls away from my core. “Sensei,” I whine, shifting my hips backward again.

“Princess?” He calls back, hard plastic tapping against my hole.

“What are you?!” I yelp, jerking away from him again. My head picks up, hanging between my legs to see what Jiraiya attempted to do.

A huge smirk is curved on his lips, his focus on positioning the handle of the brush back against me. “You need to learn to listen, Little One. I told you I wanted to practice scenarios for my new book.” The shabby explanation is followed by Jiraiya slowly pushing the handle into me, stretching my walls around the hard plastic.

“You’re a pervert,” I mutter, my eyes fluttering shut at the awaited attention, even if it’s not exactly what I wanted.

“I’m not a pervert,” he mutters, thrusting the brush in and out of me, slowly clicking my arousal further. “I can’t write a scene I haven’t acted out, and you, my Sweet Girl, made it very clear you don’t want me doing my research on other women. So, that leaves you.”

Sensei’s free hand falls back down to my pussy, his fingertips brushing over my clit in pace with the plastic being thrust into me. I can feel his eyes wandering me, taking in every moan, whimper, and reaction so he can describe it in his next book. It excites me a bit, to know this moment while forever living on sheets of ink. It also terrifies me since a good amount of the village reads Jiraiya’s books.

“Sensei,” I hiss out, my pussy clenching around the unconventional bedroom toy as my orgasm washes over me.

“Princess,” he coos, kisses littering the back of my legs, mixing with the sensation of his tongue lapping up the mess spilling down my thighs. “This will make a wonderful chapter of my book.”

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[natriae]

atsumu x reader

minors dni

warnings: smut, small pen astumu, shower sex, semi description of cuts/bruises/blood, fem! reader, revenge on Osamu, lovey dovey

whiny! atsumu agenda

thinking about pouty atsumu coming home after a long, terrible day. Kita kept yelling at him and then he got into a fight with osamu and worst of all...he needs help with his bandages and his mom is at work. He sends you a quick message asking you to come over, but doesn't explain why because he doesn't want you to mad at him too.

opening the doors to the Miya household you callout your boyfriend's name while you wonder where everyone else was at. You knew his mom was at work, but where was osamu? going on the wooden steps you turn the corner to see the bathroom door open and a small pout on your boyfriend's face while he sat on the lid of the toilet.

your poor baby.

walking in you gently pick up his face accidentally squishing his bruised cheeks in the process.

"ah baby that hurts," he whined to you, gently pulling your hands down so they rested on his neck. There were several bruises already littering his pretty face, a small gash on the left of his mouth, and what you assume was dirt. you need to clean him up before anything gets infected.

Thank god, momma Miya was a nurse because soon enough you found everything you needed in the boy's bathroom closet.

"do you have any other scratches?" you questioned. He moved his arm around and that's when you noticed how much pain your baby really was in. His arm shook as he tried to lift it up and turn it. On the back was a large scrape that your sure he got on the sidewalk. Blood had gotten on the back of his shirt and his shorts. While you inspected his arm, downstairs the front door clicked open and then shut signaling osamu was home. Something about that door clicking caused the best idea to appear in your head. Leading you to quickly slamming the bathroom door shut as Osamu's heavy foot steps made their way upstairs.

Quietly, you whispered to Atsumu, "baby, you should probably get a shower before we do anything else." If Atsumu had any talent besides Volleyball is was pulling on your heart strings because somehow he managed to make his puppy dog eyes bigger and jut his bottom lip out more. Damn, Osamu just had to kick your brother while he was down. Straddling Atsumu lap you leaned in till your noses were touching and told him, "don't worry. we can get back at Osamu as we clean you up,"

Quickly you hopped off his lap and ran to crack the door open a little bit. You knew Osamu was just a door over playing video games on the twin's bunkbed, so you knew he would be able to hear everything loud and clear. It was a routine for him, and on good days Atsumu would be playing with him. You knew that the gray haired twin's head was resting right on the wall that separated their bedroom to the bathroom. Perfect. Maybe Osamu should take some notes before bullying his brother. I mean one has a girlfriend and the other doesn't. Someone is doing something right.

Turning around you take note of Atsumu's confusion and slickly take off your top, dropping it on the floor. You swore you could see the light bulb light up as Atsumu hopped up and quickly attempted to take off his shirt. Knowing that he would have trouble you slowly helped him out of his clothes making sure not to touch any of his bruises of cuts. The small winces of pain hurt you to hear as Atsumu stepped in the shower. No one should make you boyfriend sad. He's the sweetest boy ever. Yes, he did call some girls pigs, but he knows better now. The only thing on your mind is to cheer up the lanky boy.

You yank off the rest of your clothes and joined him in the shower, circling your hands around his strong, lanky body and moving your hands up and down chest before lowering them to the building muscle under his pecs. He tried smirking a bit before ultimately failing because of the cut on the side of his lip.

"baby turn around. I know how to make you feel better," as if he already knew what was going to happen the piss haired boy turned around and his already erect cock hit you in your thighs. You giggled at the fact he was already turned on while his face began to heat up not only from the hot water hitting his back but from his very forward girlfriend. You left a small kiss on his lips before lowering yourself to your knees in the slippery shower. You left a small kiss on his cock and smiled up at him knowing how self conscious he was of it. His penis wasn't small, but it definitely wasn't big either. The first time the two of you had sex he attempted to try and keep his pants on worried that you would make fun of his length.

Everyone did when they found out, and he was convinced he'd never get a girlfriend because of it. Also, because Suna and Samu would tell him he wouldn't get a girlfriend because of it. You left another small kiss on the head of his cock where some precum began leaking out. You loved his cock. It was perfect and he knew exactly how to use it. Licking the precum off you lips and then smiling back up at your boyfriend to see his tomato red, bruised face watching you. Atsumu swore he was getting light headed and you haven't even wrapped your pretty lips around his cock. He attempted to reach back and switch the water to cool worried he'd pass out from the temperature.

Sensing that he felt a little bit better you finally wrapped your lips around the tanned mushroom tip after pulling his foreskin back. Taking your lips off with a popping sound you smirked up at your lovely boyfriend determined to hear his loud whines. From what you can tell Atsumu didn't know his brother was in the room over meaning those pretty whines will definitely come out. You closed your eyes and started to gently smack his dick on your face feeling small droplets of precum fall onto your wet body.

"mmuh, baby hurry up," he whined from above, bucking his knees like a child about to throw a tantrum. Leaving a slight smack on his thigh you took one of his balls into your mouth and flashed your teeth. Reminding him that you're the one with his cock in your hand.

You're the one in control.

You started to suck on one of his balls while you used the water to jerk his shaft. Above you 'tsumu became a stuttering mess. "f-fu-fuck baby," quickly you shifted balls hearing his deep groans and whines. You loved your whiny boy so much. Trailing back up his cock you looped your mouth around the tip and started swallowing around the shaft as it when further and further down your throat. Number one reason why you love his small cock; you can deepthroat him without causing so much pain for yourself thus allowing yourself to give better head. You swirled your tongue around his penis while he threw his head back in ecstacy. He was just so so pretty like this.

By now you're sure osamu can hear his brother's moans and maybe even the suction sound of him thrusting into your sloppy mouth. Atsumu's fingers began tangling into your hair trying to get his cock deeper into your throat. You could tell he was close by this his pants got faster, and he seemingly couldn't feel any of the pain from the scratches or cuts. Soon enough while Atsumu was giving his finally thrusts Osamu began banging on the wall telling the two of you to quiet down.

But you won't. He knows this, Atsumu knows this even if his only thought was to come down your throat, everyone definitely knew the two of you wouldn't quiet down , but it's funny that he tried. The Miya twins are just two menaces, and Atsumu just happen to find the perfect girl who will be one with him.

At the base of your boyfriend's cock you closed your mouth and took a big glup right as Atsumu hit his peak. Warm, sticky cum shot out and hit the back of your throat. You brought your head off his cock a bit to help swallow, but Atsumu quickly shoved your head right back on to keep him warm while the last few spurts came out.

He loved you like this. Spit trailing out of you mouth, falling down to land on your perfect tits. Your face flushed and eyes red from the slight sting of deepthroating him. He slowly took your head off of his cock with his good arm, and suddenly all the pain he felt was back. Trying to ingore the pain he brought you back up and held you close to him. Leaving a small kiss on your nose and then your perfect lips. He doesn't deserve you.

Noticing the change in behavior you left another kiss on his lips instead of explicitly saying 'yes you do'. The two of you washed up, and before you know it he's back sitting on the toilet seat with a towel wrapped around his waist, and you with the same colored towel looking through the first aid kit. You cleaned his cuts and placed the proper bandaids on each one before walking out of the bathroom to his room.

However before you would walk in Atsumu through his towel at his brothers face sitting on the lower bunk and grabbed both of you a change of clothes. It's crazy how much confidence he gains just being around you.

[pizzaronipasta]

It deeply confuses and saddens me that people so readily dismiss older video games as being lesser. Several of my favorite games of all time are among the oldest in their genres, and frequently get unfairly written off as "dated." It's a shame really, because these titles are diamonds in the rough, and ought to be recognized as the absolute gems they are.

A perfect case study for this topic is Metroid, released for the Famicom Disc System in 1986, and for the Nintendo Entertainment System in 1987.

This game is immaculate. It features some of the best design I've ever seen. Its atmosphere, aesthetics, narrative, gameplay, and controls are all on point. Its worst flaw is its buggy programming. And yet, a lot of people seem to hate it. They respect it as the precursor to its widely acclaimed sequels, especially Super Metroid, but not a lot of people appreciate it for its own merits. Why is this? I suspect there are three main reasons.

The first reason is that it doesn't directly tell you much. Most people nowadays play it on an emulator, and don't think to consult the manual, which would have come with a new physical copy and clarified some points of confusion. The manual even has a partial map of Brinstar, the game's first area, and suggests making your own maps as you play.

Even so, the manual doesn't tell you everything. The game conveys most of what it needs to through gameplay. Its opening moments demonstrate this expertly.

When you start a new game, Samus appears facing the camera. There is nothing visibly stopping you from going left or right, and nothing to indicate which way the game wants you to go. If you're used to games like Super Mario Bros., you might assume you have to go right.

If you do, you'll come to an impasse. The only way forward is too narrow for you to fit through. So the only way you can go is left.

Doubling back, you'll find you can go left from where you started, and come across the morphing ball. When you grab it, you'll seemingly be trapped. The place you jumped down from is too high to jump back up to, and the only other visible path is a narrow passage like you saw earlier. Obviously, you need to use the morphing ball to escape. The game has taught you this without a word.

You'll probably remember the impasse from before. Since you were given the tool to solve a similar situation, you'll naturally think to try it there as well. Thus, the game has taught you the core elements of the search-action genre, or as it eventually came to be known, the metroidvania: as you explore, you will reach obstacles; further exploration will reward you with the means of clearing those obstacles; and remembering where you encountered obstacles will reward you with swift progress.

But Metroid is not done teaching. Once you resume progressing to the right, you'll reach the bottom of a tall vertical shaft.

When I say this thing is tall, I mean it. The same pattern of platforms is repeated around a dozen times before you reach anything of note, and the whole thing is crawling with simple enemies. Up until this point, a player will probably have fought nearly every enemy they could; after all, defeating them removes them as obstacles, and rewards you with health pickups, which you'll need since Samus starts with only 30 out of 99 units of health. But here, attempting to kill every zoomer (yes, that's what the spiky things are called) will make your climb either extremely slow and tedious or extremely costly in terms of health. Unless a player is unreasonably persistent, they are likely to get bored or frustrated and begin evading the enemies instead. The fact that you can't damage the rippers, the only other type of enemy in this room, further helps to signal that the player needs to pick their battles. And so, yet another critical lesson is wordlessly taught: that you don't generally need to go out of your way to kill enemies, and that avoiding combat can save you time and resources.

Metroid continues teaching the player like this from start to finish. With patience, caution, and observance, you'll learn the game's ins and outs without even realizing it. The problem is that many players don't play with this approach, because of...

The second reason I think people dislike the game: preconceived notions of what old games are like.

NES games have a reputation for being unfairly difficult. The usual explanations for this are that they were still being designed like arcade games, which were meant to get as many quarters out of players as possible, and that they also used difficulty to artificially bloat play time, creating the illusion of better value for people buying them. There is some truth to both of these, but the phenomenon is largely overstated. Nevertheless, this reputation precedes games from that era.

As such, when players today approach a game like Metroid, they aren't expecting an actual well-designed game. They're expecting a brutal experience full of cheap bullshit and cryptic nonsense. When they get to that vertical shaft, they don't consider that they might be doing something wrong, they just assume that it's supposed to be tedious and frustrating. And so they never learn the game's lessons. When they find themselves turned around in the sprawling nonlinear level design, they're predisposed to getting overwhelmed and giving up, at which point they consult...

The third reason I think people dislike the game: walkthroughs.

The way people perceive old games, as described above, has led to the proliferation of walkthroughs. Now, there's nothing wrong with referencing a guide when you're stuck, or when you're trying to track down things you missed, or in other such situations. However, following one to the letter for the entirety of your playthrough ruins games like Metroid. When you have a handy set of step-by-step instructions on how to win, you have no incentive to engage with the game. You have no reason to even try learning level layouts or remembering what's where. Metroid ceases to be a game, and instead becomes a checklist.

It gets worse, though. When you always know precisely where to go next, the time you were expected to spend exploring and getting better at the game gets completely cut out. You don't have time to master the combat. You don't have the opportunity to get a feel for where secrets are most likely to be hidden. As your progress increases, your skill does not. Therefore, following a walkthrough like this leaves you sorely unprepared for the challenges in store for you. And so games like Metroid end up feeling like brutal experiences full of cheap bullshit and cryptic nonsense. A self-fulfilling prophecy.

In conclusion, please give older games a fair chance. Engage with them as earnestly as you would with modern games, and never rule out the possibility that you might be doing something wrong. And above all else, keep your walkthrough usage to a minimum.

There's a whole world of fantastic new experiences waiting for you. Enjoy.

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Buck is so fucking tired. Its been months, months trapped in this godforsaken day.

Hes tried everything to get out, he tried making up with his exes (except Tommy), hes tried talking to everyone he knows (except Tommy), hes even tried many implausible and at times downright stupid things (only half of those were based on ideas from Chimney and Eddie.)

Today was a break day. Hed needed a few to recover after his last attempt. At least the airtime had been nice for a few seconds before the pain cut straight to the next day. No strategizing either, not that he was getting much of anywhere since he had to remind whoever he was with that day, (usually Eddie, sometimes Hen or Chim, occassionally Maddie, rarely anyone else after the first few times) of every scheme hed already tried.

No today he was doing the only mildly interesting part of this living prison, exploring the city. He'd found a new farmer's market, went to the beach, and now he was stopping to get coffee.

As he exited the building he ran directly into someone, spilling his coffee all over himself. The burn honestly didnt much phase him anymore. Not after day 87 anyway. Still.

"Dang, watch it man," he said, none of the usual fawning apologies he'd have given before the loop.

"No it was my... fault," came a voice he knew so well yet hadnt heard in almsot a year now.

Well, for him almsot a year, for Tommy Kinnard standing in front of him it was only like 2 months.

"Oh this is fucking great," he said to himself before pulling out his phone. "Hildy make a not not to come here next loop I'm not doing this again," he said as he turned and started to walk away.

Then a hand grabbed his wrist and tugged, he tried to wrench his arm away but Tommy was just as strong as he was.

"Evan, what did you just say?"

Buck shook himself loose after another jolt of his arm before looking at Tommy. It still hurt, fuck it did, but he had worse things to deal with. "Don't worry about it Tommy. You don't ever have to worry about me again, you made that clear." Again hes about to turn away when Tommy calls out to him.

"Are you in a time loop?"

That was a new record. Chim had been the fastest to ever get it at 2 hours. Slowly he turned around, despite his better judgment.

"Considering you won't rmemeber this tomorrow, and we wont see each other, yes Tommy Ive been stuck in a time loop for months now. Its getting pretty fucking old actually." Despite the fact he was definitely being a bit bitchy, Tommys face was doing some confusing journey between surprise, relief and then happiness. By the time he stopped talking the man seemed to be vibrating before he pounced, hugging Buck so hard he thought he might crack a rib.

As much as Buck might have missed this, he was pretty fucking confused. "To-mmy..."

Tommy let go, pulling back and laughing a bit hysterically. "Evan," oh, his name sounded so good on Tommys tongue how had he forgotten "i thought i was going crazy."

"What?"

Tommy shook his head. "I mean, i didnt believe it at first. Obviously you know my skepticism, even after the Billy Boils thing." Tommy gave him a softer smile then. "But after a while, and a few different trips to the hospital it became clear there wasnt anything physically wrong with me, which meant either i was crazy, or, well, I was stuck in a time loop."

Buck stood there staring at the man he'd once been on the cusp of loving, of spending forever with, and realized they were both stuck, potentially forever, in a single day.

"I cant believe this... have you met anyone else thats on the loop?"

Tommy shook his head again, glancing around before motioning for them to take a seat outside the cafe. He grabbed some napkins, giving them to Buck to wipe at his stained shirt.

"No. Ive talked to a few people, Lucy, Sal, even Howie a few different times but never even considered someone else might be stuck too."

Buck dabbed at his shirt with little actual concern. He was more focused on this trippy development. "And youve tried to get out?"

"Oh boy, yes, tried doing everything right, doing nothing, tried talking to my dad even, that was a big mistake." His head tilted to the side in that way Buck remembered fondly, when Tommy was trying to dodge the severity of something he didnt want to admit hurt. "Heck I even called Abby thinking maybe i needed to apologize or something but... nothing." He held out his empty hands and shrugged.

Buck couldnt help what came out next. "Didnt call to apologize to me. And Id know, considering im also in the loop."

Tommy didnt say anything for a long moment until. "I thought about it. So many times. Talked myself out of it. Didnt think it was right to only contact you to try to free myself."

"Self sacrificing idiot," Buck said, tossing a balled up napkin at his chest.

"Guilty as charged."

That admission actually made Buck smile for the first time. "Dang, only took you a full blown time loop to admit it huh?"

Tommy laughed. "Groundhog day hell has humbled me I guessm"

Buck quirked an eyebrow. "What does any of this have to do with a holiday about a rodent predicting the weather?"

Tommy looked surprised, the expression soon melting into a sort of shocked amusement. "Ill explain it to you later. Looks like we've got the time. A lot of it actually."

"Yeah, I guess we do." Buck looked at him, and it still hurt, but there was camaraderie there, stuck in the same situation with only one person that understood. For the first time since the breakup he felt like things were starting to make sense again. And maybe, just maybe, if they could find a way to move past this day... well maybe they could find a way to move past their own problems too.