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sangunary · 1 month ago

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YANDERE BATFAM x NEGLECTED READER

-Hush now crybaby.

SYPNOSIS: When your family only cherish you after your death.

Warning: Child neglect, bullying,violence, gore, death.

\\ Part 1 // \\ Part 2 // \\ Part 3 //

You were the blood daughter but not the same as how Damian was, you were from a simple one night stand your father had... A mistake.

Ever since your mother left you behind with your suppose Father your life took an unpleasant turn.

Your life with your father was supposed to be colourful and exciting afterall you've been watching the other kids playing with their Fathers in the park. You remembered how envious you were back than, how everybody have a sibling to talk about, but for you? It wasn't that much of a talk on your end and you felt boring.

It broke your little heart when you realised that... Family really suck.

If it wasn't true than you wouldn't be standing alone on the stage while everyone else have their father's by their side.

It was supposed to be a father daughter day.

You inform him yourself even picking out a new dress for the special occasion with Alfred but your Father wasn't even near sight.

You were holding back your tears, gripping onto the end of your new dress looking at the ground.

Each time your heart pounds against your ribcage you could feel the agonizing pain that sent shock throughout your whole body.

The tears in your eyes were filling, dangerously close to bursting out. Yet you tried your best to not spill even a drop of tear.

Everybody called you a crybaby, but you weren't a crybaby just- it's hard to understand why you even cry ay times.

It wasn't your fault your poor heart couldn't handle their harsh word... It's not your fault your heart is fragile, it just needed some love and maybe a tint of understanding to fix it.

"Im sorry kid, I can't bring you to the park on Tuesday, me and little wing made an arrangement that we would go to the museum" Dick words ring inside your ears.

"But you said- you promised me that you'd bring me to the park... last sunday, I ask first" You replied, your hand's wrap around the little bear that you were going to give to your older brother... To thank him for bringing you to the park.

You couldn't help but feel a terrific ache inside your heart.

It wasn't fair, Damian asked today and you already asked last Sunday! And Dick and Damian already went to the museum together last monday...

"Im sorry but... Damian you know how he is, he's just cold and opportunities like this never come often, you have to understand. You're a big girl" Dick reminded you.

You couldn't help but let out a little huff. Damian that Damian this when was it ever about you. Even on your birthday Dick always brought present for him!

You remembered how Dick gave you a silly bunny doll abit chewed on, said it was his dog old/favourite doll... While Damain received a literal book signed by the very author on your birthday!

"You... promised first!" You spit back.

You were on the verge of crying spilling it all out. You grip onto your doll as you looked at the ground a drop of tear fall from your eyes and land on the marble floor.

And that's when you heard the disappointed sigh from your older brother.

The floor was clean enough to the point you could see your own pathetic face... Face red and eyes watery... You look ugly.

"Kid look... See this is why I choose Damian, you're too... spoiled, you can't just cry to get what you want. If you don't change this behaviour I won't go out with you"

"I-"

"No 'I', you're extremely spoiled and Damian isn't. This is why I don't want to go out with you, Damian is somewhat more shameful than you"

You swallowed your Saliva, staring into the marble. Tears began to rain as you couldn't stop them from spilling, you wipe your tears with your hands which wasn't helping.

You sniff and hiccup not daring to even look at Dick.

It was very clear who the favourite was from the beginning. Even if you were to get stab Damian would be the first they check on for any scar or scrab.

Every night you would weep inside your room or bathroom, grabbing onto anything and wrapping it around you to envision the warmth of comfort.

"Jason?" you called out. You only called out because you were on the verge of crying and you could smell the cigarette and you knew only Jason smoke.

"Jay?" you called out again, walking towards the balcony, you're in desperate need of comfort now. It was your birthday yet nobody remembered even Alfred forgot it.

It was terrible, the only thing you asked for was a little family dinner together having fun not everyone forgetting your own existence.

"Ja-"

"I heard you the first time"

Your hand's were twiddling with eachother, showing a clear sing you were somewhat anxious.

"Could you hug me? Please"

You cried out looking up at the older male.

You could never forget to say please cause last time it didn't end up well for you. They called you mannerless and even insulted your mother! You couldn't quite understand what Damian was speaking but he called a shame saying you ruin the perfect blood! to your face! Infront of everybody... Just because you forgot to say something!

"You're too old for one"

"I don't mind, just once please... it's my-"

"not everything have to be about you, princess"

Your smile flattered into a frown, when Jason first started calling you princess you were excited and extremely happy thinking he saw you as an amazing princess... Turns out that he only see you as a spoiled little girl... You heard it yourself.

"Just- it's my birthday and I thought a hug would be a very nice gift"

You spoke bravely again, maybe if you were persistent he might give up and hug you?

"...I don't want to hug you or acknowledge you, I don't want to hurt your little feelings but, do not indulged yourself with me. Is that clear?"

"Yeah... sorry"

Without a word you left the room, walking towards yours... Jason was compared to other's very good to you: he usually ignored your presence which was alright.

Before your reached your room you had to walk pass tim's and he was home but locked up again doing whatever he wished.

You could hear him mutter something from outside and you had a very nice idea.

After abit you knock on his door, your hand's wrap around a cup of coffee which you made yourself!

You knocked again. Nothing happened.

You knock thrice... Not even a sound.

Just than you decided to invite yourself in, afterall everyone in the family can definitely do that. You've never seen them knock to enter Tim's room.

"Tim?" you called out poking inside you check if he was there. Cause last time when you enter his room he went out the window, you found it funny.

The room was dark and the only source of light being the computer in which he was so absorb into.

Without thinking you went inside not forgetting to close the door.

"I made you coffee!" you announced to him.

"Thanks"

"...What are you doing" you asked hoping to atleast have a little conversation with him...

"Adult stuff" Tim was very vague.

"Can I se-"

"Im busy, put the coffee on the table and leave"

"Alright..."

You did as he asked and went towards the door and before you could even leave you watch as Tim throw the whole mug into the bin.

He definitely knew you were still in the room afterall he was smart he should know that. But, you didn't even speak up just suck it up and leave the room.

And as soon as you close the door, from the coner of your eyes you saw Damian. Looking at you directly.

Damian was bold and said lot's of bad stuff to you, as a result you spent half your day's avoiding him and as usual you tried avoiding him but... he stopped you.

"Where have you been?" His tone was surprisingly calm.

"Urm... I- was ugh..." You didn't know what to say? Told him that you were avoiding him and getting grounded or just yourself more of a victim than ever.

"You can't speak now?"

"I... sorry"

"Happy Birthday"

You couldn't even contain your shock face. Damian remembered your birthday? That's odd but very nice.

"Thank you!"

You couldn't help it, Damian of all people remembered your very existence... You felt important and that's all you need.

"There's a gift for you... Inside your room."

"Thanks! Im so... I thank you so much! I'll go check it!"

Before he could speak you ran towards your room all your tears gone now and you were filled with joy and excitement.

The moment you open the door to your room your heart dropped.

"..."

Your room was in ruined... Your heart dropped as you walk inside, your bed was wrecked your clothes were gone... most importantly the only picture of your mother was gone.

"What did you do?!"

You turned back, Damian was leaning against the door frame with that cocky grin on his face.

"Im helping you grow out your crybaby phase."

"What...?"

"See, crying again. Is that your only talent to cry until you get attention? Pathetic"

Without thinking you launched at him, it turn into a brutal fight but with Damian skill you were no match. He wasn't not going to pity you and you knew.

It took atleast two family members to seperate you two and stop the fight.

Jason was holding you by the hair but he wasn't pulling on it just silently threating you.

Everybody else were checking on Damian completely ignoring the fact that Damian punch you so hard your nose was bleeding.

And ever since that day everybody in the family saw you as the troublesome kid and whenever anything bad happened it was always your fault.

Not to mention how they even take a step further in ignoring you.

Every family movie night you would sit alone while everyone else sit in this big couch cuddling and giggling together. Even during Tag they completely forgot about you... Saying you were too old to play tag with them which made no sense...

Alfred was suddenly busy whenever you needed him and sometimes you had to walk home during a cyclone/rain because Alfred was busy.

Bruce become more strick and because of that your friends at school didn't even want to talk to you. Saying that as much as they wanted to be friends it to them it seems as you were ghosting them. You tried explaining even crying and begging humiliating yourself further... They never even dare to looked at you.

Everyday kept getting worse and you didn't even know what you did wrong.

You finally snapped out your thoughts and looked around... The same stage and same faces just- Bruce was still not present.

Salty tears stream down your face as you couldn't hold it in anymore. Everybody just stared at you and before your teacher could even ask you aside you ran.

You didn't know where or what your destiny was, your leg just moved on their own.

And before you knew it something hard hit you and your light were cut short.

From that day you found out you died, unfortunately you didn't went straight to haven and instead forced to stay on Earth.

You watched as your family finally acknowledged you. Always visiting your grave and even crying when nobody were around.

You felt happy, they finnally loved you!

But all it took was your life for them to realise their fault.

This Suck So MUCH.

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bjlipss · 1 month ago

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synopsis: you challenge satoru to last 24 hours without touching you.

miyan’s notes: satoru you silly goose how could you even think you’d last???

contents: fluff, humor, teasing, light suggestiveness, satoru being miserable because he is a pathetic loser who lives to touch you

it starts with a dumb argument over who’s more clingy.

“you’re like a human magnet,” you say, flicking his forehead as he slouches over you on the couch. “you can’t go five minutes without touching me.”

gojo scoffs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you’re one to talk. you get cold once and suddenly my body’s a personal heater.”

“that’s survival,” you reply coolly. “you, on the other hand, get withdrawal symptoms if we’re not physically attached.”

he pulls back, just slightly, to pout. “i’m affectionate.”

“you’re clingy.”

“pfft—i can totally go a whole day without touching you.”

“you’re not gonna last.”

gojo’s expression is scandalized. he places a hand on his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “excuse me?”

you shrug, arms folded. “you act like you’ve got god-tier self-control, but you can’t pass by me without touching me, poking me, flopping onto me like a giant cat—”

“not a cat,” he interrupts. “a majestic snow leopard, maybe.”

“still needy,” you reply, trying not to smile. “let’s test it, then. twenty-four hours. no touching me. at all.”

his eyes narrow. “you trying to kill me?”

you raise an eyebrow. “you said you’re the strongest, didn’t you?”

his expression shifts—eyes narrowing like he’s just been challenged to a duel. “fine. i’ll prove it.”

you blink. “seriously?”

he grins. “dead serious.”

hour 1 — 12:04pm

you find him in the kitchen, frowning at the fridge like it personally offended him. he doesn’t greet you with his usual backhug or whiny “babe~”. instead, he just says, “hi,” like a normal person.

you narrow your eyes. “you okay?”

he sniffs. “perfect. totally fine. unbothered. thriving.”

you take your time walking past him to grab a drink, brushing a little closer than necessary. his jaw tenses.

“you’re evil,” he mutters under his breath.

you sip your juice, smirking. “self-control, satoru.”

hour 3 — 2:14pm

he’s pacing around the living room, tossing grapes into his mouth and missing every other shot.

“you’re wasting perfectly good fruit,” you say.

“i’m burning nervous energy,” he replies, flinging another grape too high and catching it with his mouth at the last second. “you don’t realize how often i touch you. like—i go to tuck your hair behind your ear, or bump my foot into yours on the couch, and then i remember. the curse.”

you stifle a laugh. “it’s not a curse.”

“feels like one.”

he walks over to you, leans over dramatically until his face is inches from yours, and breathes, “you’re lucky i’m strong.”

“you’re lucky i’m not keeping score for how many times you almost touched me.”

hour 5 — 5:03am

“okay,” he says, bursting into the room with too much energy. “new plan. i have my infinity on, right? so technically i’m not touching you—”

“no.”

“what if i wrap myself in a blanket first?”

“still no.”

“what if you touch me?”

you squint at him. “are you begging?”

“i’m bargaining.”

you pat his head as you walk past. “stay strong, baby.”

he melts slightly under the touch before realizing. “wait—you touched me!”

you grin. “i never said i couldn’t.”

hour 6 — 6:00pm

dinner is suspiciously quiet.

you chew thoughtfully while gojo picks at his food, glancing at your hands resting on the table. you know he wants to hold them.

you twirl your fork and ask, “so what’s the hardest part so far?”

he groans. “you.”

“me?”

“you’re just so—soft and warm and mine. and now you’re sitting there looking all cute and i can’t even hold your stupid little hand.” he slumps back dramatically in his chair. “i feel like i’m mourning.”

you laugh. “mourning my touch?”

“yes. it’s tragic. i’m gonna die. shoko should do an autopsy on me tomorrow.”

“you’re so dramatic.”

“and you love it,” he says, flicking a grain of rice at you.

you flick one back. it hits his cheek and sticks.

you both lose it.

hour 9 — 9:22pm

you’re curled up on the couch with your legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone, when you feel a stare. a heavy, unblinking, yearning stare.

you look up. satoru is lying upside-down on the other end of the couch, watching you like you’re a limited edition dessert behind a glass case.

“you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

he groans. “you’re just so huggable. i don’t even want to do anything else, i just wanna lie on you like a warm weighted blanket.”

you close your phone and raise an eyebrow. “just lie?”

“okay maybe a lil kiss too,” he admits.

you grin. “well too bad. rules are rules.”

he rolls off the couch with a dramatic thud.

“you’ve ruined me,” he says to the ceiling, voice meek and void of life.

you walk over to crouch over him. “how?”

“i used to be a strong, independent man. now i can’t go a single day without your hand in mine.”

you snort. “you sound like a victorian woman writing a letter to her lover at war.”

he groans and covers his face. “please come hold me.”

hour 11 — 11:32pm

you’re brushing your teeth when he walks into the bathroom, shirtless, hair damp from a shower, a towel slung low on his hips.

you stare at him through the mirror. he stares back.

“you’re cruel,” he mutters. “you did this on purpose.”

you spit out your toothpaste, trying to keep a straight face. “what, you’re allowed to walk around half-naked, but i stretch once and it’s a war crime?”

“i’m suffering.”

“you’ve got thirteen hours left.”

he points at you with his toothbrush. “when that timer ends, i’m kissing you until we both forget our names.”

hour 12 — 00:03am

you’re in bed now, side by side, separated by a solid five inches of mattress space.

“how am i supposed to sleep when you’re right there and i can’t even wrap an arm around you?”

you sigh. “…fine.”

he perks up. “fine what?”

“i’ll let you imagine holding me.”

“i’ve been doing that all day.”

you snort.

he rolls over to face you, sighing so dramatically you almost laugh.

“…do you miss me?” he whispers.

you raise a brow. “i’m right here.”

“no. i mean, like—physically. touch-wise.”

you pause. and yeah. you kinda do. he is so full of love and your favourite thing to do is accepting that love in any form he gives it to you.

“…a little,” you admit softly.

he groans. “don’t say that. i already spent five minutes hugging my pillow and pretending it was you.”

you giggle, then roll onto your side. “you’re being very strong though. i’m proud.”

he closes his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “say that again.”

“i’m proud of you,” you whisper.

“…nghhgghghgh,” he moans, pulling the blanket over his head. “stop being cute. it’s killing me.”

hour 16 — 04:11am

you wake to soft murmuring. gojo’s talking in his sleep.

“…love you…mm…’s not fair…no touch…”

you blink blearily and shift. he’s curled around a pillow again, lips slightly parted, brows furrowed.

you almost feel bad. almost.

he reaches out instinctively, hand finding empty space.

“…baby?” he mumbles, still mostly asleep.

you whisper, “still here, toru.”

he sighs and smiles, dozing off again.

your chest squeezes a little. maybe you underestimated how touch-starved he gets. how physical affection isn’t just habit—it’s how he grounds himself. how he knows you’re safe, right there with him.

you scoot closer. not touching. but close.

he sleeps better after that.

so do you.

hour 21 — 9:01am

you wake up to see gojo sitting on the edge of the bed, hair wild, eyes bloodshot, sipping coffee like he’s seen war.

“good morning?”

he turns slowly. “did you know i dreamt about touching you? that’s how bad it’s gotten.”

you stretch with a yawn, your shirt rising up slightly.

he averts his gaze. barely.

“heartless.” he mumbles.

hour 23 — 11:03am

you’re both just sitting on the floor at this point. not talking. not moving. not doing anything but waiting for the final countdown.

he’s staring at the clock like it holds the key to salvation.

“you doing okay there, champ?” you tease.

“one more hour. one. more. hour,” he chants under his breath.

“you really couldn’t handle this being a regular thing, huh?”

he whips his head toward you, horrified. “don’t even joke about that. if you ever pull this again i will literally dissolve into sparkles.”

hour 24 — 12:04pm

the second the timer goes off, he pounces.

you squeal as he practically tackles you into the couch cushions—arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck, sighing like a man finally breathing fresh air.

“oh my god,” he groans into your shoulder, breathing you in like oxygen. “finally. finally. i’m whole again.”

“thank god,” he mumbles, lips brushing your skin. “i thought i was gonna die.”

“you’re so pathetic,” you giggle, but your arms find their way around him too.

he pulls back, just enough to look at you. his eyes are soft, the blue in them glowing faintly in the dim room.

“i could never live without you, baby,” he murmurs, and then he’s kissing you—slow and deep, fingers sliding up your back like he can’t get enough.

he pulls back just enough to cup your cheeks and look into your eyes. his voice is a little softer now, more sincere. “i missed you. so much. never doing that again.”

you kiss him. and he kisses you back like he’s making up for every second he went without you.

you smile against his lips.

#miyan writes ⭑.ᐟ #divider by cafekitsune #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #gojo satoru fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk x reader

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nympheagain · 9 days ago

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Perv!Mark Pt.2

Summary: Perv!Mark sees you with your zipper open and has a whole ordeal

Lol got this idea when I realized my pants zipper was open all day 😔😔

Perv!Mark who’s never seen a vagina, not IRL at least. So he’s almost foaming at the mouth when he can see your lacy panties through your open zipper as you sit with your legs spread.

You were probably tired, poor you, so tired you couldn’t even wear your clothes properly! Perv!Mark would never let you get that exhausted. He’d take care of you, real good.

Perv!Mark who was so glad that you both took the subway home. You got off a few stops after him, but he always pretended to get off after you, just to watch you longer, it wasn’t a problem anyway, since he could just fly home.

Perv!Mark who can see the colour of your cunt from the mesh fabric of your panties, who’s already letting his imagination run wild, thinking about how easy it would be for him to just rip them off you.

He’d keep them as a souvenir of course, pocket them when you weren’t looking and sniff them deep as he tugged his hard leaking cock.

Perv!Mark who was so pathetic, so desperate for you that he doesn’t even need to imagine much more other than the sliver of your panties peeking out from your trousers, you wouldn’t even have to take them off, he’s thinking, maybe he could just slip his dick right through?

Then he’s imagining fucking you right there on the subway, just bent over in one of the carriages, fully clothed as he fucked you senseless. It wouldn’t be very hygienic, he knows, but he’d hold you by the throat and keep you close to him, keep you nice and snug and safe.

As for everyone else, well, he supposed they could just watch.

Perv!Mark who’s so engrossed in his fantasy that he almost doesn’t realise when you’re getting off at your stop, smiling sweetly at him and whispering a “Bye, Mark.” Like you knew the effect you had on him.

Perv!Mark who’s looking down at the large tent he’s sporting in his pants, realising, oops, you just might.

#nympheagain #invincible x you #invincible smut #invincible x reader #mark grayson smut #mark grayson x you #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader

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mywritersmind · 2 months ago

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HE’S SICK OF IT? - LN4

summary : Lando’s had enough with your people pleasing attitude and goes off about it. And here you thought he just hated you…

listen up : reserve driver x lando norris!!!! people pleasing activities plus swearing. so i wrote this in art class

words : 785

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“You’re unbelievable.” I didn’t even realize someone else was in here. Dressed in his race suit, water in hand, Lando Norris shakes his head at me. What the hell is he doing here?

“What did I do now?” It’s been months of this shit. He doesn’t like me, never has. This fact only made me hate him more.

“You’re being pushed around so easily.” I scoff at the sudden attack, crossing my arms over my chest and realizing he just saw me accept intern work from a kid four years younger than me. “Are you that naive? Or do you just get off on doing other people’s dirty work?”

My guard is up in an instant. “You really want to go there? At least I'm not like you. Pushing people around when it suits you best-”

“That’s not what I do. Open your eyes and listen the fuck up. I know my worth.” His face is hard, staring me down now as he walks closer. “You just lie to yourself.”

I take a breath, “I am a good person.”

He nods slowly, his look filled with sarcasm, “Yeah you’re a great person who lets herself get beat up by someone below her.”

“Below me? Are you hearing yourself?” I know I shouldn’t be giving into his aggression but I can’t help it.

“Are you?” He shouts back.

“You are such an asshole! Just say you fucking hate me and move on!” I groan, running a hand through my hair, “It’s ridiculous, Norris! You barely know me yet all you do is bitch and moan about me!”

“Yeah because I’m sick of your people pleaser bullshit.” What the hell? He’s sick of it? He’s yelling now, “You’re a big fucking deal. Act like it.” His voice is stern, his face inches away from mine.

I can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t even yell at him because I know he’s right.

He breathes out, his volume lower as my eyes lock onto the floor, “I don’t hate you. I hate how I seem to be the only person who sees you as more than an excuse.”

His words hit me like a train. The one person I can’t stand, the one person who can’t stand me, is the one who’s sticking up for me.

It’s fucking pathetic. Tears threaten my eyes that are still glued to the floor.

A soft touch meets my chin, forcing it gently up so I'm looking at him. I blink and am met with his soft green eyes.

“You’re a driver, Y/n.”

I let out a shaky breath, “I’m a reserve.”

“Do you drive a formula one car or not?” He snaps partially. I nod. “And you drive it better than the kid in your seat.”

I can’t help but laugh now, tears falling down my face but not getting the chance to meet my uniform because they’re being pushed away by Lando’s thumbs. “You can’t say that.” I sniff.

“I can say whatever I want.” I roll my eyes at him, “You know why?”

I blink at him, “Because you’re a big fucking deal?” His grin is wide and mischievous.

“You’re getting it now.” He seems to remember his hands are on my skin, my eyes dry now and my face getting progressively hotter. He drops his hands to his side as if I was made of poison. “I uh- I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I play into it, “Well you did.”

“I’m sorry.” His words confuse me, I almost laugh.

“Is Lando Norris-” he’s already rolling his eyes, “The Lando Norris, apologizing?” He steps back but he’s smiling.

“Don’t get used to it.”

I stand up straighter, “I hope you won’t make me cry again.”

“If I do, it’ll be on track.” God his smile…

“I’m looking forward to you trying.”

“So uh…” he scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking nervous, “you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You were right.”

“Well I'm always right.”

I raise a brow, “Maybe we both need to work on our attitudes.” He smiles.

“Maybe we can over a drink.” He says it so casually that it doesn’t hit me until seconds later. Did he just ask me out?

“Hm…” am I dreaming? “You asking me out, Norris?” There’s a split second where I'm worried he meant it in an ‘i’m sorry for making you cry’ way. But then he blushes.

“Yeah.” He nods, “Are you saying yes?”

I shrug, “I’ll go with you.”

“Is that what you want to say… or what I want to hear?” I lean back against the wall, breathing out and whistling.

“I’ll tell you after you pay.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine

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wileys-russo · 14 days ago

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party 4 u II a.putellas

idk what this is other than being fueled by a charli xcx lover with a tiktok fyp full of those 'how it feels to hear party 4 u' edits party 4 u II a.putellas

you always started the morning with the same little set of rituals, the war torn practices you'd perfected over years of self indulgent behaviors that left you waking up with a pounding headache and a mouth as dry as the sahara.

the same step by step process that you sought out to heal you of your demons, the little devils which sat on your shoulder of an evening jeering and snarling at you, picking at every emotional scab they could peel back, words like lemon juice spat on an open wound.

that was how you'd find yourself with phone in hand and sending out a barrage of eager messages, already pouring yourself a stiff drink and settling against the headboard of your bed, your little friends now quieter though their sneering still rang in your ears as you waited for someone to respond they were free.

then once you had even a slight sniff of a plan you'd get begin to get ready, necking down at least another three drinks in the process, your head now silent and buzzing like it was filled with bees, ears stuffed with cotton and a warmth spreading through your stomach that felt invitingly pleasant.

your nights were filled with dancing until your feet might fall off and drinking until you wondered if your liver might follow suit.

bumping into strangers and friends alike though none who really knew the real you or whose faces you might ever see outside of a bar or a nightclub.

whom you'd never share a genuine conversation or a sincere thought with, all relationships you suffocated yourself with containing the same surface level connection where they merely existed to fulfill your need for acceptance, attention and adoration.

but all that had changed the night you met her.

when you'd met alexia you'd hardly been in a sober state of body or mind, hunched over the sink crying your eyes out over your latest situationship who'd left you for something newer and shinier, a pattern you should have been used to considering the type of girls you pulled into bed with you of an evening.

but you never learned, why would you?

not when you could keep repeating the same patterns that left you miserable which went hand in hand with the self destructive habits that lead you craving those short fast connections and the touch of a warm body pressed against your own in the first place.

you'd had far too much to drink with far too little in your stomach to process it, mind spinning from a profound lack of hydration despite how many kamikaze shots you'd downed, and a headache right behind your eyes just starting to set in.

when you'd felt the hand on your back your head shot up instantly, almost pathetically hoping it would be your ex girlfriend up for one more night of fun before she dissipated back into the abyss of the party scene in barcelona.

but instead you were greeted by a new face, kind brown eyes with bore into yours and left you feeling completely stripped bare even if you were very much still fully clothed.

her eyebrows curved downward with concern and there were little dimples either side of her mouth where pale pink lips pursed into a thin line, a frown not filled with disappointment but something else, something softer.

but ultimately, with one small look and a simple touch this stranger had you feeling more vulnerable than when you'd been crying your eyes out in a dimply lit restroom, and you found yourself dabbing at your eyes as if that would make your makeup look any less smeared.

"¿Estás bien?"

little did you know, after that one easy question you'd be the furthest thing from okay you'd been in years.

at first you worried she'd grow bored of you but your usual attempts to fling money or gifts at the problem fell flat, and though the rejection hurt you could see why she'd said no to your less than subtle advances.

you weren't okay, and the connection and acceptance and love you craved came from a place of isolation, and a lack of self acceptance and doubt, from a childhood spent raised by anyone but the woman who gave birth to you or the stranger you'd never known who helped it happen.

you had slips ups, weeks where you'd disappear off the radar and fall back into the welcoming embrace of blocking your feelings with uppers and downers alike, anything to get rid of the reality of being left alone with your thoughts and forced to process them.

you'd never liked feelings despite how much you craved to pull them from others, how many beds you'd woken up in over the years and nameless faces you'd left behind that morning.

still despite all of that, and still to this day you didn't know quite why or how, alexia remained a constant in your life.

picking you up when you were down, yelling at you when you needed a dose of reality and praising when you finally took a step toward your fears instead of running away.

she was the best friend you ever had, maybe even one of the only ones who'd actually cared for more than just your last name and the material and financial assets which came from it, not to say she couldn't pull a pretty penny for herself with her status.

you knew nothing about football aside from that whenever barcelona played, men or women, you'd stumble into any bar along the strip and the game would be broadcast on every tv it could be.

but once you met alexia you learned everything there was to know, throwing your addictive tendencies into studying the rules, the leagues, the competitions, wanting to support her even half as much as she'd supported you.

you showed up to games, met her family, friends, were pulled into the inner circle and for the first time in years finally felt you had a place in life, something to wake up and look forward to of a match day, belong to a community.

you'd long harbored your true feelings for alexia since her initial rejection, recognizing that if you let them get too close to the surface both of you would end up hurt, and the last thing you would ever want to do is push her away or give her a reason to go.

so you lied to yourself, gaslit your own mind that the emotions weren't there, pushed them down and down and focused on other things, you'd almost convinced yourself they were gone.

it had been a few years now and you were yet to realise that they were anything but, that just because you no longer thought about what it might feel like to kiss her or tortured yourself with the endless wonderings of what might be if you just asked her again, they were still there.

you were finally happy, finally okay, finally had genuine friends and hobbies and ways to fill your time that brought sincere fulfillment, finally had the life you'd wanted since you were a child playing alone and talking to imaginary friends.

but there was always something missing, a type of love that none of that brought you that you knew you wanted but didn't have the first clue how to unlock the box it seemed to be stuck and held away from you in.

always something missing, until the night of alexia's thirtieth birthday.

you'd worked alongside her sister and her friends to organise alexia a surprise party, the ridiculously humble captain insisting she didn't want a fuss, didn't want a big party, was happy just to go out to dinner to a nice restaurant, allow one round of singing her happy birthday and call it a night.

though instead the restaurant she'd wanted to dine at was booked out for a private event, all of her closest loved ones gathered and laid in wait for her to walk through and yell out with a cheer.

but when they did, when you were squished inbetween her uncle and her cousin, the last thing you expected was for her ex to be beside her, and for her lips to press against alexias as suddenly it felt like the air was being sucked dry from your lungs.

you hadn't even known they were still in touch though you'd hardly had anything to do with the guest list which alba had full control over.

it was like time stood still as alexia was enveloped in a cocoon of her innermost circle, pushed from hug to hug, reminded she was another year older again and again, toothy cheshire grin plastered ear to ear.

but all you could feel was the uppercut to your stomach that left you winded from seeing her kiss someone else, someone that wasn't you, and all of those feelings you'd been in pure denial of and refused to process, came screaming and hurtling to the surface.

you didn't even flinch as the canons went off and the gold and silver confetti came raining down, feet glued to the floor and those pesky little devils slowly climbing up onto your shoulders again from where you'd flicked them off long long ago.

but before they could whisper anything, confirm the insecurities which were already sounding in your ears, you shook them off and hurried for the door, missing the brown eyes which flickered around the room to find you, and only you.

finally able to exhale as you burst through the double doors and were smacked in the face by the cool evening air, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and head ringing from the cheers in the large room which had shrunk to feel like the smallest of cubes.

you'd never been claustrophobic but you suddenly had a whole new respect for the feeling of everything closing in, desperate to get as far away from this hidden humiliation as you could, maybe even send your therapist a text to see if she could bump your appointment up any earlier.

then you felt it, the hand on your back, almost dropping your phone as you turned and without meaning to pushed her away from you, not missing the hurt and confusion which flashed across her face.

but before you let her speak you took off, heels clacking against the pavement as you sought to put as much distance between the two of you as you could, pretending you couldn't hear her calling after you.

though of course the professional athlete wasn't one who'd be ran away from, another touch now this time clamping around your wrist like a vice, causing you to spin around and almost drop your phone yet again.

she caught it effortlessly because of course she did, though when you reached for it back you exhaled when she held it out of reach and gave you a look that had your cheeks burning up again and wishing the ground might swallow you up.

"alexia-" "no. no por favor, just listen."

it was rare to hear her beg and yet the hints of desperation to her tone had you pausing, walls still up in full defense but you offered a curt nod, the excuse you'd been about to vomit out about not feeling well and heading home not fooling her even before you said it.

"i did not know jenni would be there. i had not asked her to dinner but clearly she was late to that, and i saw her outside and she said-" "alexia really you do not need to -" "no. listen! por favor, i need you to hear me."

at that you once more fell silent, another small nod and she was taking a deep breath before starting again, taking you by surprise again as she took your hands in hers, rings cold against your own fingers which were for once bare.

"jenni is a friend, nothing more. i do not have those feelings for her, there is someone else that i have always-" at that you tried to pull your hands away but she held on tighter.

"alexia no really you-"

this time you were silenced once more though this time it wasn't with a curt look or a pleading word, this time it was pillow soft lips pressing against yours and hands which were once holding yours moving to find home against your hips, drawing you impossibly close.

when finally she pulled away you were left stunned, head reeling and a moment of regret flashing across her face before her features hardened and her hands moved again to gently cup your cheeks.

"you. amor it has always been you."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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runraerun · 6 months ago

Text

Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3

-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.

Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.

The Brain Injury Recovery Center.

It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.

So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.

Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…

There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.

“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.

Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.

Can’t let Eddie see him like this…

He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.

For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.

It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.

Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.

As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.

Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.

He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.

Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.

Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…

His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.

But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.

And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.

It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.

Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.

Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…

The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.

It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.

Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.

He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.

Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.

Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.

To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.

Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.

“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.

He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.

“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.

“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.

“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”

The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”

Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”

She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”

“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”

He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.

“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.

“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.

She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.

He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…

It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.

Hopper steps out.

Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.

When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.

His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.

Then it clicks.

Oh. Steve’s the emergency.

He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.

“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.

Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.

Munson. Eddie.

The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?

Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.

“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?

“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.

When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”

Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”

Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.

“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”

“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.

The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.

“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.

Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.

But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.

“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”

Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.

Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“

Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.

She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”

Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”

She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.

“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.

“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”

But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.

“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.

Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”

But she doesn’t, not really.

Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—

No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.

Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.

When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.

🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.

Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)

@morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @sofadofax @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesworldxx @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @dame-zoom-a-lot @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife

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hyperprosexia · 1 month ago

Text

cw: 18+ | omegaverse au; a/b/o dynamics; sexism; curvy/fat!reader (some physical descriptions); strangers to lovers/mates; eventual smut

pairing: omega!soap x fem!alpha!reader

part I

it all takes but one glance at you and johnny doesn't know left from right anymore.

pair that with the captain's introduction of you being his new personal assistant and the 141's secretary and being a bloody alpha and johnny's whole being is in a sudden frenzy.

a female alpha he's rarely met one in his life.

most females serving in the military are betas. female alpha's choose different careers due to the military being a male dominated field, and everyone knows that female and male alphas don't get along most of the time.

or it takes lots of work and, in some cases, lots of fights for dominance to balance out a pack order and the cycle repeats itself until someone is transferred or, in the rarest of cases, someone gets injured.

but you don't look like a typical alpha, certainly don't smell or behave like one.

you look comically tiny next to captain price, his packs alpha, his leader. you look tame, well-mannered, friendly and... warm... soft.

he can barely imagine you in some feral alpha rut, and oh there goes his heart skipping a beat that leaves him straightening his stance, rolling his broad shoulders.

and as a male omega, johnny knows the struggles; he knows how difficult it is to look a certain way, but present another.

he doesn't look like an omega, doesn't behave like one. never has.

johnny isn't dainty nor soft or small. he's not some darling docile omega that alphas go wild for. he's a large bloke, rugged and strong, and before people get a dulled whiff of his scent through his scent suppressants, they usually take him for an alpha or even a beta.

the alphas he's met have always given him an ick, left him feeling anxious, weak, and with the need to flee and rather find comfort in solitude or with other omegas he trusted, like his sisters.

johnny gets lost in his thoughts until the captain dismisses everyone from the briefing, and suddenly, he's left alone in the room while you sort out some papers at the front desk.

ever the social one, he decides to approach you directly, despite his past experiences with strange alphas.

"john mactavish," he says, holding out his gloved hand confidently, "but everyone 'round here just calls me soap."

and as you look up at him through your lashes, lips splitting into a bright smile, his knees nearly go weak.

you take his hand and shake it firmly as you give him your name personally and with the right pronunciation, not like price had butchered it previously.

"aye," he replies, eyes glinting mischievously as they drink in your supple curves underneath your neat office skirt and blouse combo.

"soap's your callsign, i take it?" you ask with a curious adorable tilt of your head as you release his hand, and goddammit, johnny hopes your scent will stick to the fabric of his gloves, so he can sniff it later while stroking his pathetic omega cock.

he licks his teeth. the buttons of your white blouse look bloody near ready to pop; the lace of your white bra faintly imprinting through the thin fabric. his instincts are buzzing to life despite suppressants, and it's taking him off guard in your presence.

and then you chuff with a chuckle. "you don't smell like soap. definitely not like the military-issued kind."

oh. so you're a playful one.

his broad back straightens. not even trying nor bothering to make him submit. you're giving him space, treating him like a normal person rather than his secondary gender. that's new.

and he fucking hates it.

are you not interested in him like that? it's his omega wailing inside him for the first time since his youth, when everything was still new and foreign, and his first heats almost made him go mad without a bloody alpha to soothe him.

"ah i " he gulps. struggles to come up with something witty as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, causing your scent to drift to his nostrils. he inhales deeply.

it's not intrusive or sharp like alphas usually smell to him, but his breath stutters in his lungs anyway. you smell like the wildflowers one can find in the highlands, saccharine, spicy licorice schnaps, and burnt bark mulch.

his omega whines inside him, wants him to submit, to be good for you, to make you see what he could be for you. don't you want to smell him, too?

"are you okay, sergeant?"

he blinks and his dark lashes flutter as he peers down at you. fucking hell, your voice your concern. it's making his chest feel tight. what the bloody fuck is happening?

"aye, ah'm jus' "

you reach for his right hand and bring it up to your face, and johnny doesn't pull back like he usually would.

"it's fine," you reassure him as your thumb pushes the fabric of his tac glove to the side, exposing his small scent gland there. a shiver runs down his spine.

"you're just tired, hm?"

he swallows down a whine, grits his teeth to keep it together before he nods slowly.

"guess so," he rasps, sounding like he's spent the past week in the desert. thirsty... needy. "been a few tough months." years, really.

you hum understandingly. "may i?"

he nods again. john mactavish, lost for words, a bloody rarity.

he wonders if you're just doing this because of your duty as an alpha to soothe some poor, pathetic omega like him, or because you truly want to get to know him. he'd certainly prefer to believe the latter.

and then his breath hitches when your nose brushes over his scent gland the one that shouldn't feel as sensitive as it does right now. you're scenting him, getting to know him, and he almost purrs. almost.

you're absolutely gorgeous. everything he ever secretly craved in an alpha, and he's suddenly so aware of how ugly he is compared to other omegas.

an ugly scottish bugger.

his omega thrashes inside him, whines and snarls in distress, and his hand clutched in your gentle grasp, balls into a fist when his scent sours and your nose wrinkles.

you pull back, gaze up at him in question, still holding on to his wrist, but johnny doesn't have an answer for your unspoken words.

"dinnae know what ye're doin' to me."

all he knows is that he wants to be yours.

》 continue

#cod omegaverse #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #call of duty #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #cod #soap x you #omega!soap #alpha!reader #tf 141 #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #cw omegaverse

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littleapplle · 23 hours ago

Text

bad dog!

mating season's part two. not necessary but read it for more context. nsfw. 4.1k w.

cw.: hybrid!caleb, fem!reader, masturbation, dry humping, caleb is pathetic and anxious asf, a lot of spit, handjob, cunnilingus (sigh...), p in v, big d caleb, knotting, breeding kink, pregnancy kink (sorryy..), caleb is PATHETIC (again), biting and lwk marking kink, doggy style, mating press, squirting.

note: ah!! its finally out! to everyone who liked and asked for a part two of mating season, im sorry! i took so long to start and finish this. i hope i can keep up with the expectations and that this is just as enjoyable as part one.

“bad dog!”

Is what caleb's got most used to hearing in the past few days.

“caleb, do you know where my white bra is- hey, what are you hiding in there? bad dog!”

“caleb! stop going through the dirty laundry basket! bad dog!”

“caleb, why are there holes in my black panties? oh my god did you chew them again?- ugh! bad dog!”

the first few times, he'd whine in guilt and shame, give you his best puppy eyes and maybe, just maybe, get away with it. but now? you're afraid he's getting bolder, that your punishments – denying him his weekly spoon of peanut butter and his blueberry bites – aren't being enough to keep him on his tracks.

and what's the solution for a puppy with bad manners? a trainer, of course! you've searched everywhere online for a hybrid trainer close to your apartment and nothing was worth wasting time on. most of them were men, which you knew wouldn't end well.

puppy!caleb is friendly, a sweetheart around you. he lies on his back and whines for belly rubs and when you scratch a particular spot on his side, his leg twitches a little. your sweet pup is lovely but you know him well enough to know it's better to avoid interactions with other men.

it's not personal! he isn't scared of them or anything. he just doesn't like them around you:( so why would you bring a stranger to your shared apartment to not only try and order him around but also infect the air, which usually smells like you, with their yucky scent? that's a nono!! caleb is a good pup but his teeth are still huge and sharp!!!

with no other options left, you return to scolding caleb almost daily for his misbehavior. sure, you’re letting him get away with it sometimes and maybe you're too soft on him but you're trying!

his behavior worsens with time. it's been a little more than a week since the incident you'd rather not mention. caleb barks when you get home, showing his teeth to the world once his nose sniffs a different scent in your clothes. caleb growls and both of you play tug of war with your clothes every morning. caleb hides stuff around the apartment and you're running out of undies.

he's clingy. you love him but he's constantly clinging to you, sniffing every inch of your skin when he thinks you're not looking. When you sit down on the couch to work, laptop resting on top of your thighs, he lies down on the floor, waiting for you to invite him to sit beside you and take a nap while you write reports, and when you don't? his sharp teeth nip at the ticklish skin of your foot. bad dog!

to his dismay, you still have a job and need to go out by the morning and spend the whole day out. the baby teethers you bought for him aren’t helping to keep his teeth and mind busy anymore and caleb is starting to destroy the shit out of your apartment. you’ve found bite marks everywhere this past week. your mascara? bitten. the corner of your bedside table? destroyed. the cute and pink silicone spatula in your kitchen? disintegrated.

ok, sure, it’s kind of your fault for not educating him properly but how could you? poor boy gets anxious when you’re not around and his gums are itchy! he’s innocent!

so, to help with said problem, you bought him a friend! a fluffy, cute, white bunny plushie with the cutest light pink heart for a nose. but that alone was too tedious for your bored pup! to prevent him from absolutely destroying the plushie, you spray some of your perfume in its fluffy body. the cologne he whines and buries his face in your neck when you wear, the one that made you put a lock on the cabinet under your bathroom sink because he kept spraying it in the air when you weren’t home.

great idea! he loves it. a bit too much maybe, but it’s a win.

“i’m leaving, caleb! leftovers are in the fridge. yes, i love you, yes, i have to go, no i can’t call in sick.”

you announce loudly from the front door before shutting it close, a tactic you quickly learned. you sneak to the front door quietly, tell him that you’re out and boom. door locked. sometimes you can hear him whine and paw at the knob and it breaks your heart but your boss will chop your head off if you arrive late one more time this month. you try to make your goodbye as painless as possible for him, like removing a bandaid with a single, quick pull so he doesn’t have the time to process the sting.

the clock hits 11:00, it’s been an hour since you left. caleb is miserably sprawled on the couch, he tries to focus his eyes on the show playing on the tv but his purple orbs stare at the clock more times than he can count.

it’s 18:00 by the time he gets frustrated and decides he’ll take a nap in your bed. everything on the tv is too boring if you’re not there to watch it with him, he doesn’t want to eat if you’re not there to treat him with dessert- oh, he misses you dearly.

opening the door of your room, he sighs like a wife that has been waiting six months for her husband, who left to save their country, to answer her last letter, whining dramatically at the hopeful thought you’d magically come home earlier. the mattress sinks down with his weight, curling under your weighted blanket like a puppy.

and that’s when he sees it.

his new little friend, with a light orange bow tied around its neck, sitting beside his head on the pillows. you’ve definitely sprayed your perfume on it this morning, the scent is still too fresh, he notes.

he yanks it closer quickly, big hand and fingers gripping the fabric with force as he buries it in his face. comfort immediately runs through his veins, filling his bored brain with a sense of calmness. his fluffy ears twitch, glueing to the sides of his head pitifully and there’s a barely visible tail wagging slowly under the thick blanket.

caleb takes a whiff, a second one, a third one, and his eyes start to water. this is inhumane! he cherishes your gift dearly but now the scent just makes him miss you even more. rubbing his face closer to the plushie’s tummy, his canine teeth sink on the fabric as gently as he can, trying not to damage the toy you gifted him with so much love.

his little puppy heart shatters. if you were by his side right now, you’d pet his ears, pinch his cheek just enough to make his canines visible and giggle at him and it’d make him feel better!

his hips buckle against the mattress as he squirms around the bed sadly and a shiver runs up his spine, making the fur on his tail stand up. caleb has been so pent up since he pressed you to the floor and had his way around you, his cock is always sensitive, the scratches you give behind his ear make his lower stomach tighten with arousal and his pupils are always blown.

gross stuff is a nono in your bed but his hands paw at his hardening cock through his boxers anyway. It’s not in his hand he wants to come and the feeling of not having what he wants makes his chest heavy with frustration. With a hiss, his hand leaves his cock, like any touch burns and hurts him more than it helps.

‘caleb- no. i need you to calm down before i give you the spoon. breathe.’ is what you tell him after lunch, when he gets to have some peanut butter. the situation is different, he feels like a bomb, ticking closer and closer to explosion but he obeys your voice in his head anyway, breathing nervously against the now covered in saliva bunny.

a long breath makes his eyes roll to the back of his skull as his hypersensitive nose catches a glimpse of the intoxicating, sweet smell of your cologne.

and what happens next is not processed by his pathetic brain. the poor plushie is dragged down the blanket and pressed right to his crotch, its fur sticky with precum that seeped through his boxers. this is what you wanted when you gifted him this thing, huh? a ragdoll for him to fuck when you’re away? well it’s not enough!

his hips rut against the bead filled body with messy thrusts and more whines escape his lips. He can’t come. Not in this, not in his hand, his knot will take too long to go down and he’ll be sensitive, too sensitive. it has to be you. he wants you.

caleb is not there to see the clock tick 18:40, his ears don't help him this time, his nose is buried in your pillow too deeply to catch your slightly sweaty scent in the air and tell that you’re home.

from the front door, you arch a brow as you kick your shoes off and place them on the shoe hack. the apartment is quiet, too quiet. caleb is like a child, you’ve noticed, if everything is too silent, something is wrong.

“caleb? where are you, boy? have you eaten anything yet?” you call out, no one answers.

the door of your bedroom is ajar. is he sleeping? cute. you walk carefully to its direction, tiptoeing in hope to not wake him up. and once you peek inside, your smile falters.

“caleb! gross!”

the shriek makes him snap out of his drunk, dumbed down mind and his eyes almost pop out of his skull. his ears, once hidden on both sides of his head, stand on top of it, tense. “you-” he cries and sits up.

you don’t give time to finish his sentence, a frown blooming in your face as you cross your arms close to your chest by the door.

“seriously caleb?! in my bed? i just changed the sheets this morning, for fuck’s sake-” and listen, he wants to apologize, feel guilty and pout but he can’t. he can hear your breath hitching, he loves when you come home with sweat clinging to your skin, fuck, you smell so good. he wants a taste. this time, he’ll get it.

this time, he begs. he crawls to the edge of your bed, tail wagging behind him mindlessly and the words that leave his mouth are pathetic.

“please- r’lly need your help! feels so hot- please i- i really need you! been waiting for so long, ah, please- i’m a good boy, kept my teeth to myself, promise. oh fuck.” your ears can barely catch up to everything he’s saying, his words are dragged, desperate, needy.

you really want to keep up with the ‘i’m mad at you’ act but you break. his whines go right to your core, arousal pooling on your underwear disgustingly fast. pinching your nose, you sigh, walking to his direction and sitting on the bed.

with the space between you two getting smaller, his tail wags faster, his pupils blown wide, shaky. your hand makes contact with his sweaty cheek and he is quick to lean in, shutting his eyes close and basking into your touch. “what’s wrong, pupp-” — “hot.” you can hear the distress in his voice. “it’s okay, i’m here now, aren’t i?” at the reassurance, you receive a lick in your hand as acknowledgement.

scooting closer, you cradle his face with both hands. there’s a bit of sweat clinging to his bangs , making them stick to his forehead, a bit of saliva is smeared on his lips and his brows are furrowed. “oh, my poor pup.” you coo in pity before pressing a kiss to his wet lips. he whines, kissing— well, licking your lips stupid—, you groan at the mess but doesn’t fight against it, you’ve been mean enough already.

while his clammy hands grip your shirt for a sense of grounding, yours scratch his chest in affection, tracing down to the happy trail that trailed up to his bellybutton. you’d love to take your time with him, let your mind settle, but knowing caleb, he’ll grow frustrated and bark weakly as a way to protest. so, in order to keep him quiet, your wandering hand pulls down his wet underwear, his cock standing proud against his stomach.

your eyes almost pop out their sockets once you peek down. he is big, much bigger than whatever the average is. his tip is an angry shade of red, beads of precum leaking down the shaft. the cool air makes it twitch.

slowly, awkwardly, your hand wraps itself around it, working up and down. that makes him snap, breaking the kiss and throwing his head back with a loud whine. “‘s that good, pup?” he doesn’t answer, how could he? not when your thumb presses on his tip in a way it makes his thighs shake and his ears twitch with pleasure and he’s trying so hard not to come.

your other hand leaves his face, going south to cup his balls gently. his jaw tightens. gross. you think with a smile but leans in anyway, kissing his adam’s apple as it bobs with his nervous gulps.

the stimulation is too much for him, making his brain go fuzzy. your lips now working on his shoulder blade, your hand gripping his length tightly, your other hand massaging his balls- “stop! argh- please, ‘m gonna cum! can’t cum. needa be inside you, please.” caleb squeals, both hands holding down your arms with force as his hips buckle in your hands.

so you do, you let go, just staring at him with big eyes as his chest goes up and down quickly and his face flushes with heat. once he settles from his high, caleb’s hands grip the hem of your shirt, taking it off quickly and messing your hair. “ow! caleb-” — “no.”

caleb has always been stronger than you, you lose against him when roughhousing, you give up on trying to save your clothes from his teeth because once something is in his grasp, you’re not getting it back. in a second, you’re under him, face shoved into one of your pillows while your ass, covered in the pretty, black skirt you left to work with is up in the air.

he doesn’t take the skirt off, too irritated to care about something so trivial. he takes a second to sniff your crotch, covered by a cute pair of wet lilac panties, before yanking the fabric down to your bent knees. you squeal against your pillow at the roughness and the quick, hot sniffs on your lips.

last week caleb discovered he loves the way you taste, he’d love to eat you out the whole night, starting now, but he just can’t take this long right now. his warm tongue laps at your arousal, lips wrapping themselves in your folds and sucking gently.

“c-caleb! fuck! good- good boy, keep going, baby.” muffled whines escape your lips and at the praise, caleb’s tail wags faster, tongue working around your clit, teasing it. he sees the way your knees fight to keep your ass up and not buckle weakly, that’s his sign to keep going.

his free hands grip your ass, spreading it for more easy access. he trails kisses from your clit and up to your slit, continuing going up till he gets to your asshole, placing an open mouthed kiss to the hole. it twitches, your body shivering at the unexpected contact. you hit the pillow you’re currently biting in protest. “gross, caleb!”

it doesn’t take long for your moans to grow louder and your thighs, dripping with sweat, shake violently as he sucks on your clit harshly. “fu-ck! yes! good boy, caleb- mghhh- jus’ like, ah, that!” you moan, creaming on his mouth tiredly.

you curse his stamina, because once you think you’ll finally be able to catch your breath and rest, caleb’s already rutting against your wet folds and slapping his dick on your sensitive bundle of nerves. energetic mutt, you curse. he is not giving you a break.

“caleb.” you warn, trying to make your voice as steady as possible. “gimme a break and then we can conti- aaH! oh my god- fucking mutt!” you scream, cursing him for the pain between your legs as he buries himself inside you in a single thrust. his tip kissing your cervix and walls tightening around his length painfully.

“s-sorry! o-oh fuck. fuck, y’er so tight- mgh-”

and ohhhh fuck, he waited so long for this. you look so pretty from this angle, hair tangled and messy, face buried in a pillow, back and thighs sweaty while your knees can barely hold up your weight. he gulps down, trying not to piston his hips inside you just yet.

he doesn’t give you much time to get comfortable before snapping his hips against your ass, the sound of skin against skin disgustingly lewd. his torso bends down to bury his face in your nape, breathing deeply in your hair once he does. “mine. oh- ahh- yes, mineminemine!” caleb whimpers, his eyes rolling back as you clench down around him, making his thrusts messier.

as a response to pleasure, his fluffy ears twitch and drop to the back of his head once again. his tail doesn’t stop wagging ever, swishing behind him happily. the warmth in his stomach grows at the sound of your moans and screams, your curses only making him hornier.

you’re a meanie, you don’t let him chew on your shirts and get a whiff of your bras, you nag at him and hide the small container with blueberries that’s usually in the fridge when he does something wrong. and usually, he’d whine, eyes getting watery at the thought of you being mad at him, but now? he doesn’t even care! you look so pretty, you feel so good. his ears barely get a glimpse of you cursing all his next generations.

a shiver runs down your spine once he licks the back of your neck, sniffing it contently as his cock abuses your insides. you hate him, you fucking hate this mutt, he is disgusting and he does not obey and his cock drags along your walls so fucking nicely. his mushroom tip pokes your cervix roughly, making you stupidly drool in your sheets while your things dig on the bedding.

“y’smell so good- y’er so tight- feel so- ngh- good! mine, right? don’t like other men around you! noooongh” – “w-wait! caleb! aah!” something in his mind upsetted him because the way he thrusts into your cunt is inhumane, caleb’s bigger frame presses you down on the mattress, the hair of his happy trail tickling your lower back as his skin slaps on yours.

you’re a mess, pussy drooling pathetically and stretched to her limit around him, juices spilling down your thighs and the mattress everytime he fucks his cock inside you. and when you’re sure you’re getting used to him, of fucking course caleb has to start talking again. “need to mark you, everyone need’ta know y’er mine, just mine. that’s my cock you’re clenching around. needa bite you, yeah.”

and he keeps up with his words, his loving, ticklish licks to the back of your neck turning into a sharp pain. you scream, squirming under him and one of your hands tries to slap whatever bit of his skin you can reach but it’s worthless. once caleb sets his mind into something, you’re definitely not the one that’s able to stop him with physical force. with a hand tightly around your waist and the other keeping your neck in place, his canine teeth sink down on your nape, biting down just enough to make the skin irritated and leave a scar for a few weeks.

and when you feel like you’re getting closer, his hips stop, his cock slips out of you and a strangled whine leaves your wet lips as he manhandles you, flipping you on your back. “you!-” annoying! you’re so annoying! bad dog!, you want to shout. “s-sorry. need to see your face.” he hisses as his eyes wander down at your breasts. “you’re so pretty, ahhh, so pretty. have i ever told you that?- fuck, mine and so pretty- oh-”

he doesn’t waste any time, his hands help your legs up his shoulders and he slips inside you again. his sunset colored eyes stare at his cock going in and out, in and out, in and out of you and he finally notices the creamy ring around the base of his length and smeared on your lips. it’s pinkish, he notes, probably from being too rough and not stretching you properly. he’ll say sorry later.

“you’re so-” he pants tiredly, “so pretty.” a sweaty hand gropes the fat of your tit, squeezing it under his large palm. “want t’a breed you- need to- fuck! need to get your tits swollen with milk-” caleb leans in once again, this time bending your body like a stick, pressing your legs closer to your chest in the process. his nose takes a whiff of the valley of your boobs before wrapping his lips around your free boob, playing with the other one with his hand.

your voice fails you once again. it’s not like you have the strength to judge him harshly again anyway. his tongue swipes at your hard nipple, sucking it like he has a point to prove. “and you would mghhh! would look so pretty and round and ah! everyone would know y’er mine, oh god-”

with a last kiss, as if sealing a promise, he lets go of your nipple with mercy and stands up again, kissing your knee as an apology for bending you like your bones are made of jello. and then it hits him. “o-oh! s’rry forgot you like this.” the hand squeezing your tit snakes down between you two, adding some much needed stimulation to your clit.

you jump, legs thrashing against his shoulders and back at the pleasure. you clench around him once more and this time, it’s his turn to squeal in pleasure. “o-oh fuck. ‘m cumming, g’nna breed you, yeah? fill you up, mhm? yeah? fuck! cummin’!” caleb whines before throwing his head back, his sweaty hair barely moving an inch away from his forehead while doing so, and his once steady thrusts turn languid, messy.

his cock twitches around you, spilling white, watery ropes in your pussy. bicolor orbs roll to the back of his skull as he feels his knot grow swollen at the base of his cock. even after coming, he keeps pistoning his hips in you, tiredly, but it’s the thought that counts.

at the weird, swollen and hot thing trying to fuck its way inside you, you mewl, eyes going wild as caleb tries stretching you just a little more.

“caleb-? what the aha! fuck?” — “sorry!” he cries but keeps going anyway, his fingers working faster around your clit to make up for the pain. “jus’ a little more? ple- ase? it feels good, doesn’t it?” back to being stupid and pathetic apparently, because the way he stares at you with puppy dog eyes and begs is disgusting.

his other hand leaves your thigh to press down on your tummy and it becomes too much. your walls convulse around him and you cry, clit throbbing under his touch pathetically. the hand putting pressure on your bladder makes your eyes roll, your hands grip the sheets to the point of turning white.

“caleb! ah! oh my god- fuck- aha, cumming, i’m gonna cum! pl-please keep going!”

and you don’t have to ask him twice. he thrusts his cock in you a last time, his knot slipping in easier than he thought it would, thanks to your drooling cunt and his cum and that does it for you. your body goes static, hips bucking against his and back arching against the bed. his fingers don’t stop, rubbing your clit until you’re shaking uncontrollably and your juices spray on his thighs and lower stomach.

“oh-” — “don- not a word!” you manage to cry out.

“so… how long till it goes down?” you murmur tiredly against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his big frame as he lies on top of you. your legs feel sore, aching from being spread for so long, thanks to his cock still buried in you.

“an hour and a half, probably” caleb shrugs.

your eyes snap open. “an hour?!” — “and a half.” he barks with a chuckle.

“i hate you! you’re heavy, y’know?! argh, bad dog!” he only manages to laugh at your rage and lick your cheek, covering it in saliva.

⊹ ࣪reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading!(*´▽`*)

#.littleapplle's pastries #.puppy!caleb #love and deepspace #lads #lads smut #lnds #lnds smut #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #caleb smut #xia yizhou #love and deepspace x reader #caleb love and deepspace #lads x reader #lnds x reader #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #caleb x y/n #caleb x you

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tiramissyoucake · 1 month ago

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GODDDD THE PATHETIC MARK I SWEEAAAARRR WOOOOOOFFFFFFFFFF IM GOING INSANEËÊĘĖ

I got a grosser one for you and I'm using this chance to word vomit about it.

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI

CW: masturbation (no nut), shirt sniffing, Mark gets caught

Staying over was fun for Mark, he gets to take in your room's surroundings, know more than he already does and being around you all the time was the best part. Although you were still a person with responsibilities, and these days Mark's schedule was emptier than yours.

He'd wake up to see you get dressed, catching a goodbye kiss just in time and other times he'd wake up with a note and a quick breakfast (those were the worst, but the food was good.), he'd always be home waiting for you, he saw no purpose in going back to his place when he could greet you when you're home.

The hours were agonisingly slow as he tried to do whatever around your home, clean up, loaf around, dishes, anything. Today he decided to clean up your bedroom just a bit, your messes were much more manageable than his own, stray clothes and misplaced items.

He was half way through separating a few clean and dirty clothes, he figured he'd toss these in the laundry after when he stopped at one of your T-shirts, there was a distinct smell, the one he's come to associate with you.

... No. He shouldn't. His hands clutched the shirt, lowering it just a bit, who cares if it smells like you? It's not like he'll die without taking a whiff, that same scent that floods his senses when he cuddles you, when he buries his face in your neck or your chest.. or... when he kisses you after you come see him..

He doesn't need it. He's better than this. He was Invincible for God's sake.

The internal struggle went on but Mark was proud of himself for rationalising, peeking at the shirt after throwing it aside, it taunted him.

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at his watch, it would still be 2 hours before you were off work.

... he lied, he's not better than this.

Harshly snatching the shirt from your bed he pressed the fabric to his nose immediately, taking a long sniff he shuddered as the thought of you flooded him, how did you always smell so good?

Falling to his side on the bed, he hugged the shirt closely while breathing it in, taking a short pant between each whiff he took. The lingering scent on your bed, the shirt, the softness of the mattress and sheets, this was his personal little heaven.

He whimpered as one hand kept the shirt up to his nose while the other moved down his own body, slipping past his waist band, he felt so disgusting, touching himself while sniffing your clothes. He didn't care right now, he needed this.

Tugging down his pants, his hand immediately got to fisting his cock, your shirt helped fuel the fantasies; memories from previous nights where you let him fuck you until his balls were drained, fantasies of things he wanted to do to you. He let out small moans into the fabric, face flushed as he bit his bottom lip.

Mark laid on his back, clutching the cloth in his fist as he kept it up to his face while his hand eagerly moved up and down on his cock, a quiet squelching noise underlayed by his moaning and whimpering even after it was muffled into your shirt.

"Babe?" His eyes shot open, sitting up quickly to make himself decent, his scrambling caused his knee to slip off the edge of the bed, tumbling down to the ground.

Mark grimaced as he heard you let out a small laugh, tugging up his pants quickly and using the bed as some kind of cover, his face was beet red, mortified.

"Babe, are you okay?" You asked while walking around the bed, in your work attire but loosened. "Bad time?"

He sputtered, he didn't realize he was still clenching the shirt. "N-no, I was just- uhm, your shir- your clothes. I wanted to.. clean up the place- just a little, it's.. it's nice but I wanted to help."

"By touching yourself while sniffing my shirt." Damn it. He hoped you would just lie to him and let him save face.

He stayed quiet, ashamed as he stood up. "... 'm sorry, I-I just didn't see you this morning and I just.. got this idea and- y-y'know how people's minds work when they're horny..? They're actually less disgusted..! ... sooo..." he was digging himself a deeper hole by rambling.

You smiled, cupping his cheek and kissing the corner of his lips. "I don't mind, babe. It's... kinda cute? Plus, who's to say I didn't touch myself to those pictures you send me?"

His erection returned almost tenfold at that, perking up. "... really? You really do?"

You shrugged, a smug smile on your face.

He'll send you more photos if you let him sniff your shirt every once in a while.

#your stars have aligned .•°✧✦✧#invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader

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ridingthatd · 1 year ago

Text

◕◔ RYOMEN TWINS II

◔◕ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, twins breeding you, possessive, kinky asf part 2

sukuna ryomen. sukuna was never interested in anything other then aiming to evolve himself, becoming even stronger and ruling with immense power.

after all sukuna is the strongest sorcerer of a thousand years, and is known as "the King of Curses".

sukuna is selfish, cold-hearted, immoral, and exceptionally sadistic. while his brother itadori found humans amusing , sukuna thought the slaughter of women and children are just like maggots crawling around.

he never understood why his brother was so obsessed with humans souls- their emotions, emotions both him and his brother never felt.

fear. sadness. anger. jealousy. love- they were think they never got the taste of. sukuna never understood why would a man beg on his knees- broken knees to spare his so called wifes life, why would a man care about another humans life- as less as a pathetic woman's life more than his own.

he never understood that, until he met his little human- right you were his- theirs, he would end a whole nation if even one of their people dare to touch a single stand of your long delicate hair. and he knows his brother felt the same.

sukuna wanted to take you- have you, knot you with his seeds the moment he laid his dark eyes on you, his cock was hard-ragging demanding to fill your little pussy with his warm seeds, demanding to break your little pussy- tear it open with his two cocks.

his whole body filled with heat, as he stare at you bowing infornt of him- him and his brother, he was aware that his body was larger then any average human. but you- you were even smaller then an average human, he could take you right here, claim you right here and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, just cry out as his fat cock stretch both of your holes out.

at first it would be painful for your pretty little pussy to take his fat cock- you would beg him to stop, choking on your sobs but as soon as he hits the sweet spot in your womb you would start drolling, brain high, as you beg him for more- beg him to tear your little ass with his other cock.

sukuna smirks at his thoughts, he couldn't help the dark deep laugh he let's out as he glance at his brother- his brother that was clearly thinking the same thing as him, as he stare at their little loyal maid.

sukuna knew you were someone who will serve him and worship him, live under his shadow. someone who would be playful with him and be bratty on purpose, seducing him so innocently. he wasn't ever interested in sexual intercourse, more like no one caught his attention enough to have him as much as glance at them.

he lost count on how many woman's head he had beheaded off because of their pathetic in tempt to seduce him- but here you are innocently sitting on his lap, dress drenched with his cursed bath water, revealing your hard nipples as you gently scrub on his skin not aware of his hard cocks that were ready to devour you.

he chuckled to himself, you were so naive that you thought his filthy brother was a gentleman- an Innocent man, but in reality itaodori was a filthy as much as he was , a man who would steal your cute little panties while he claimed that he wanted to "help" you with the laundries, a man who would beat his cock raw as he sniff on your panties, he would go as far as taking your used ones just to stroke his cock with it.

sukuna wasn't any better, he sighs to himself as he lean in to sniff your scent, he was obsessed with how soft your body was in his big arms, his body always relaxed like he's in cloud nine as soon as your rosy scent hit his nose, he growls pushing his face harder into your plumpy breast, brushing his nose softly on your exposed cleavage.

as the loyal submissive human you are, you don't deny him your body, you simply continue your work on him- your hands massaging his hard sculp, running your delicate fingers through his pink locks, making him groan into you- you can feel the vibration through your body.

oh how much he loved this.

you wake up heat- heat running through your whole body, through your veins, it was like you were on fire- fire of pleasure, it stings so bad yet so good, it's like your body was boiling under hot water, the heat source comes directly from your cunt.

you felt something huge, something wet, something warm, something rough- stroking your pussy. once. twice. third-

you lost count, to focused on the sensation of your pussy burning, it was so so warm, so so wet you couldn't help but arch your hips into it, wanting more, whining as you feel it leave burning trail from your pussy to your ass, stroking- no licking at your hole.

you finally snap your eyes open pulling yourself up, realization hit you, you weren't laying on the bed sheets you were laying on something hard, you look down just to make contact with dark eyes, pupils thin, filled with lust- eyes who belong to non other then your master sukuna.

your body slumps back into sukunas chest again, whimpering as you feel two long-thick fingers shoved up your tight ass hole, tearing through you, you felt a warm chest being pressed behind your back- you're being sandwiched between two hard, muscles ripped chests.

a warm tongue peak out, licking the shell of your ear, making you squirm on the wet thing under you- the wet thing was non other then sukunas mouth stomach.

"our baby woke up" your master itadori mutter out, his hot breath behind your ear, his nose softly brushing your neck, as he leaves wet-sloppy kisses inside your ear, this way the only thing you can hear was the wet noises his mouth made.

you feel sukunas stomach-tongue circling your ass before going back to your pussy shoving it completely inside your sore hole making you arch your back against itadori chest, screaming as the long wet tongue entered your walls.

"no- ngh no- no to much" you choke out a sob as you feel sukunas tongue hit your womb circling around your sensitive spot that drives you crazy, it was to slippery, to wet, you felt to stuffed with his huge stomach-tongue, thrusting so fast inside your pussy.

itadori was still licking on your ear- it was soaking wet-sloppy soaking with his spit, everything was to much, you couldn't hear anything other then the wet sounds of itadoris tongue, and the sloppy sounds of sukunas tongue entering you again and again and again.

sukunas two lower hands trail to your hips, kneading them in his large hands before he hashly lift you up and slam you down his tongue making you cry out, "ah- ah- master- please no more" you beg for mercy.

"shh i know, i know let master take care of the sweet pussy of yours" he purrs out, as he watches the way your juice coat his tongue dripping down his stomach- you tasted like honey and he couldn't get enough, his tongue selfishly lapping on every single corner inside your pussy.

"fuck she's gushing her juice all over you" itadori hot breath hits your wet ear as he darkly speaks out, causing you to finally lose it at the sensation as he plugs your ass with his finger shoving them deep inside.

you shake, body giving up as you land on sukuna your face hovering over his, pushing your pussy- your ass more into them, as soon as you see the way sukuna was staring at you so hungrily as he slams your pussy into his tongue and his brothers finger.

you squirt- gushing out clear liquid, crying out as you feel your whole body shake, fingers holding into your master sukuna for dear life. itadoris finger still inside of you, shoved deep but making no movement while sukuna crazily continue rocking your pussy into him.

"yes! yes! fucking give it to me! all of it" he growls out, two of his upper hands grab your hair and lean it to his face just to suck on your lips, while he continue his brutal movement on your sensitive pussy.

another orgasm rips out of you, you feel like you could pass out, your screams were muffled out by sukunas mouth as he sucks, leaving them red.

"god fucking girl" itadori stoke your back leaving kisses on your spine while sukuna finally slow his movement, ripping his mouth away from yours, just to lick the tears that left your eyes.

sukuna flip you over- so he was on top of you, slowly pulling his tongue out of your soaked pussy, eyes darken as he looks at the way it was so swollen, it was barely recognizable, it was wide open leaking your clear cum and his spit out, he purrs satisfied at the sight.

itadori doesn't know why did he agree on letting his brother have you, but looking at you right now he doesn't regret his decision one bit. shoving his finger inside your beat up cunt, making you whine before he shove it inside his mouth groaning at the filthy taste.

sukuna leans over to you pressing his forehead into yours, you stif as you feel a rock hard warm thing brush against your ass, you open your eyes glancing at sukuna- your eyes widen as you see- not one but two of his fat cocks lining against your hole.

"you're going to take it like a good girl for master" he growls out before he completely tear through your tight ass, ripping you apart. two of his hand-mouth that was holding your hips down, lick up your waist leaving a wet trail before landing on your nipples, trapping them in his mouth, suckling on the hard bud.

you were sure the bed was going to break, from how hard sukuna was thrusting into your ass, your voice was caught in your throat, eyes crossed, mouth hanging open causing spit to leave it.

"we can't leave your sweet mouth hanging empty like that" itadori coo at you as he swipe your drool with his finger before sucking it into his mouth, you glace at his hard cock that he was stroking precum leaking out of his reddish head, you moan out as you feel sukuna rock into you faster, causing your body to crash into itadoris from the force.

you feel his cock at your lips, and you immediately open your mouth wider welcoming him, lazily licking the head before slurping it into your mouth, focusing on it, coating it with your spit.

itadoris thighs shake, the way your tongue licked up his sensitive clit had him close to cumming undone, just as close as sukuna was.

"fill down her throat, I'm going to fucking fill this ass of hers" sukuna groan out as he slaps your ass with his other two hands, gripping your cheeks and spreading them wide to take a good look at how your tight ass was hungrily taking his fat cock.

your moan vibrate into itadoris huge cock and that has him spilling his hot cum down your throat with a loud moan, his brother soon follow him, filling your ass with every single last drop.

"fucking." thrust.

"take." thrust.

"it." thrust.

"all." thrust.

your mind was blank, every single hole of yours was filled with their cum- leaking with their cum, your body was twitching.

sukuna lean in to kiss your clit, while itadori kiss your nose. maybe after all they did have something in common.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

: ̗̀➛ part 1 is 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

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osamucide · 1 month ago

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NFSW—MINORS, AGELESS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

Sae doesn't want a significant other. he wants a pet.

Sae wants you on your knees with a pretty leather o-ring collar around your throat while his smacks the leaky head of his cock on your tongue. he wants his full government name on a shiny heart-shaped tag dangling next to where he clips your leash on. he wants to ruffle your hair and coo and aww at you condescendingly when you do something a little stupid. he wants you to eat up his commands, obey his word like it's gospel—like he's your owner, your master, your salvation.

Sae doesn't just want you to look and act like his brainless dog, though—more than that, he wants you to embody it. he wants to train you into the obedient little pet you were meant to be for him, which is why he wastes no time buying a clicker and getting to work conditioning you into getting wet at the mere sound of him pressing the button. he sits on the couch with his legs spread—and the second you hear it, you're scurrying over to him to curl up at his feet because you'd never crawl up on his lap without his permission.

Sae wants to watch you grind on his shoe while you nuzzle and sniff his erection through his pants. he mumbles go ahead, baby while you look to him for permission to roll his waistband down and desperately paw and lick at his cock. he wants you to whine and beg for him while he sits back with a lazy smirk on his face and watches you get him wet; he'll cup your cheek with his hand while you lap at him with tears pooling in your glossy puppydog eyes and tell you you're so good for him. only when you're scratching at his thighs—nipping at him while he tells you to watch those teeth—and babbling please, please, please will he tug you up by your leash to sit you across his hips.

Sae wants to watch you grow even more needy while he makes you rub your slick up and down his cock—he's so mean, he'll never just fuck you how you want. you have to work for it like a good dog; you have to hump at him like an animal while he denies you before he even considers flipping you over and fucking you. but when he does, he's gonna fuck you even stupider than you already are—you're stuck in a sweet downward spiral of being molded into his little toy, so good and pliant for him, and you love every second of it.

Sae wants to rough-fuck you until you're a dumb, drooling mess. he trains you to cum on command—only on his cock—with the clicker, and plugs you up with a fluffly little tail plug when he's done, regardless of what hole he's used. he wants to see the adorable, pathetic mix of dread and lust on your face when he thumbs the clicker in public or around his friends. he wants you to give in to your most primal instincts and senses with him—wants you to trust him so fully that you let him lead you through life with a domineering hand on the back of your neck.

Sae doesn't want a significant other. he wants a pet—but that's okay, because he pavlovs you so mind-numbingly sweetly into being his braindead, cock-hungry dog; he treats you like his baby, his sweetheart, his world. so, remember your place, okay?

tagging @saetiate with luv :x

#sae x reader #sae itoshi smut #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock smut #nnnsfw.ᐟ

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 7 months ago

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AS FAST AS YOU CAN

KINKTOBER DAY 24 - OUTDOOR SEX WITH TOMMY SHELBY

Pairing.| Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary.| Your husband likes to play games to keep your marriage exciting. When you oppose against his wants, he thinks a game of predator and prey can soothe your disputes.

Warnings.| Noncon, dubcon, predator and prey, outdoor sex, p in v, rough sex, breeding kink, postnatal depression, implied lactating kink, tommy's a dick lol.

Word count.| 2.7k

Notes.| This may have been my favourite to write, Tommy just screams predator and prey.

It was just another fun game for the happy couple. A way to keep the spark of adrenaline, excitement and desire for each other. To your husband, this was considered intimacy. The casual sex could get repetitive for him, don’t get Tommy wrong, he loved your body, worshiped it at every opportunity he got. But he wanted to feel alive with you, take every opportunity possible to explore new pleasures with you. To keep the sparkle of rigorousness in your marriage.

Tommy Shelby was a sadist, your hand was forced into marriage and then you were sentenced with baring his children. You loved your two sons, Alastair and Henry, but feared them living cursed lives. You had heard so many malediction tales of the Shelby name. They were still babies, Alstair only turning one a month ago. Many nights you considered packing your bags and running away with your sons, but feared your husband’s wrath if you ever got caught.

Only eight weeks postnatal, Tommy was pushing you for another, but you were far too resistant this time. The way your expression soured and lips wobbled as you began to express how you needed to wait, your body needed to properly heal from your first pregnancy. Your body was weak, you were ruined by the issues of bearing children. You needed a break after having one child after the other. To what he was quite aggressive over your resistance, he found himself rather content at the situation, an idea sprouting in his mind.

On this cold, misty day at Arrow House, Tommy thought it was the perfect environment for another intimate activity between you both. It was hunting season, and what better than a game of predator and prey. But in reality, he wanted to torment you in ways you didn’t know were possible. Because no matter the terms and conditions of the game, it was always designed for him to win.

“It’s a simple game darling, I desire another child, you do not” Tommy spoke confidently as you stood in front of the green field.

You rubbed your shoulders in the cold gentle wind. It was foggy, the forest almost hidden in the distance. With a congested sniff of your nose, you looked up to your husband who was dressed appropriately for a hunting session, the rifle included.

“If you can reach the main road through the woods before I catch you, I won’t impregnate you until you’re ready, I promise” Tommy explained, closing the distance between you with a wicked grin on his lips.

“Then what’s the gun for!” you exclaimed, your body trembling as you watched his hands tighten around the weapon.

“It’s just a prop my love! It’s hunting season! I’m just getting into the spirit, a predator eager to catch his prey” Tommy snickered, nose running up your neck as he breathed in your scent.

“Please Tommy! I’m tired…” you begged pathetically, your body slouching as you held onto your husband in hopes of a change of heart.

With his grin, you knew your words meant nothing. His free hand slipped around your waist, right down to squeeze your ass. You whined, tightening your grip on him as you tried to force your tears back in.

“Want me to fill you with my seed now then?” Tommy whispered darkly into your ear.

The thought of being pregnant again weighed you down. No, you couldn’t be a slave to the torture of pregnancy. The agony and melancholy it had rained over your body was too much to bear again. The sleepless nights had to end. Tommy thought it was best for the maids to stay out of the process. He only wanted you both to be their providers. He did help out here and there, but he often would pass on the duties to you and hold you from behind as you tried to calm your sons. That’s when he was even home, Tommy was business obsessed. Sometimes you’d get hopeful that he was never going to be coming home. Prayed for the news that he got caught in the crossfires, but you always heard the engine of his car roar when you were almost convinced.

“Okay, okay” you complied, defeated.

“Good! If you win I’ll do whatever you want tonight, even if that’s sitting in the corner of the room like a naughty boy” Tommy smirked, patting your behind harshly.

He explained how you’d have a five minute head start and how it was approximately a mile and a half run. Your hope began to shatter at those stats, you had hardly walked that distance straight since your first pregnancy. When was the last time you had even ran?

“A kiss for good luck” Tommy murmured before passionately kissing you.

As he counted down the seconds, you whimpered heavily, eyes darting around as you felt like a deer caught in headlights. You bolted as fast as you could, quickly heaving, your heart pounding against your ribs as you didn’t notice how tight your throat was closing in. It was cruel, you weren’t dressed appropriately for this, wearing a maroon dress that restricted the movements of your legs and tight shoes that were easily rubbing against your skin. All for his own advantage, as if your physical capabilities weren't already enough.

It’ll forever be unknown if Tommy stood true to his word, you were too afraid to look back. The adrenaline removed the timer in your head as you quickly disappeared in between the trees. Tommy smirked to himself as he held his rifle to his chest and ran after you.

Swaying side to side, your body struggled to remain composed. Your core temperature made the forest feel like a furnace. When you fell against the tree, you pant out to attempt to catch your breath. You dared to look back, the bushes and trees remained still as before. The mist clouded the distance, you were still free from him. But his voice tormented you, calling out his name, somehow echoing through every area of the taunting woods.

You wouldn’t be able to outrun him, that much you knew. However, you could trick him, have him chase the finish line rather than yourself. For he never set a mark on the road. You slipped into the nearest ditch of dirt, curling your body up against the curving wall of earth. When you heard his heavy footsteps snap at the twigs and crush the leaves, you clamped your hand over your heaving mouth.

Tommy called out your name and you could already visualize the sinister smile on his lips. “My love, where do you hide?” Tommy teased, already knowing that you were near.

His footsteps neared, you were sure he was standing right above you as you squeezed your eyes shut, paralyzed by fear. A ramble in the distance of an animal caught his attention. Tommy flared his nostrils and quickly his footsteps faded. When the woods were filled with silence again, you crawled out of the ditch and continued your journey.

You were cautious, your eyes darting around from every direction as you often found yourself hunching close to the ground. Tears watered the soil as you struggled to keep your emotions under control. The blisters on your feet had already formed. Your body ached almost as badly as it did during childbirth, you needed to rest. Minutes quickly passed, you thought you were lost. But then, you could see the main road behind the trees. Just over fifty meters away from you.

“My love! There you are!” Tommy’s voice boomed as he appeared out of thin air in the distance. There was this similar crazed look on his face, which never ended up in your favor as he held onto the rifle firmly.

You shrieked and bolted for your life, not necessarily desiring the finish line, but only to get as far away as him as possible. Tommy guffawed your name as his brisk steps grew onto your tail. Fearfully, you cried out, your sounds of distress echoed throughout the forest.

When Tommy lunged for your loose hair, he miscalculated the distance and missed, tripping over a root and crashing onto the dirt ground in the process. You dared to look back, but shamelessly found yourself grinning at his unfortunate tumble. He snarled out the dirt from his mouth, his head shot up as he saw you closing in on the finish line.

You smiled, you were going to win, finally.

The gunshot made you fall to the ground a mere few meters away from the road. Your hands patted over your body, your blood pumping a mixture of adrenaline and shock. There were no wounds on your body and you dared to look back.

Striding towards you like a beast, Tommy had a frightening look locked on underneath the specs of dirt. His knuckles were turning white around his rifle as he looked like he was ready to eat you alive. Thoughtlessly, you were scooting back over the dirt ground, heading straight towards the road.

“Get over here, right now!” Tommy roared, a vein popping out of his forehead.

“Tommy?” You whimpered, head darting back and forward from the road.

The road was only a meter away from you. Swiftly, Tommy aimed his rifle at you and you froze still. You gulped down the lump in your throat, lip wobbling.

“Next shot goes through your leg my love” he warned with a grin.

You whimpered his name once more as he towered over you. The rifle lowered to his side as he tilted his head towards you. As the rifle fell to the ground, Tommy pounced on top of you, pushing you flat onto your back. His nose inhaled your scent as he pressed his lips to your neck, you were frozen underneath him.

“Mhmmm, I win” Tommy chuckled, his kisses running up to your face.

Whining out, you shook your head viciously as you squirmed underneath him. “No! No! I was going to win!” You argued, your voice full of hurt.

“Should have walked the distance then!” Tommy cackled, his hands roughly roaming over your dress.

“You threatened to shoot me! You said it was a prop!” You hissed.

“I would never do such a thing! Not my fault you fell for it” he said smugly with a roll of the shoulders, his brute hands massaging your swollen breasts.

A wave of pure anger crashed over you. Before you could even process it, you punched him in the jaw. His hand snapped to the side and he remained still. The redness on his pale skin quickly grew. Within a blink of the eye, Tommy maneuvered you onto your stomach, your acts of resistance always felt like a mouse battling a cat. You yelped out in pain as he twisted your arms behind your back.

“Please Tommy! I don’t know what I was thinking!” You shrieked, blabbering at the feeling of his heavy bulge poking against your ass.

“That’s exactly right… You shouldn’t be thinking at all…” Tommy whispered into your ear as he slowly freed his throbbing cock.

“No-no, please” you squeaked out, close to hyperventilation.

But it was pointless, Tommy had won yet again and was too eager not to gloat his win. For if a wolf were to catch a deer, would he take it home before devouring it? Your dress was scrunched up and you gasped as the cold air teased your skin. With a swift movement, he shoved his thick member into your entrance. You grumbled out in pain, Tommy shoved your face into the dirt as he pounded himself inside of you.

“Your mind will go perfectly blank again when you’ve been bred, I miss the way you’d stare blankly out the window” Tommy sighed in satisfaction as your body went limp below him.

“Tommy please! Another month! Just give me another month!” You cried out, your body trembled on the ground.

“Darling, it’s easier if we just get it out of the way now…” Tommy moaned quietly as his arm slipped down to your clit.

The way your walls would squeeze his length made you feel sick in times like these. It fueled his beliefs that you enjoyed his sick and twisted games of his. He held up your hips, balls slapped against your sensitive flesh, animalistic grunts left his lips. You mewled out his name.

“Quiet my little wife, quiet” Tommy ordered, his eyes rolling back. “You stress yourself out too much, let me do everything, let me take care of you” he explained as he leant down to kiss your heated cheek.

Tommy coached you to keep on squeezing him, just how he liked it as he rutted into you. In return, he hit your sweet spot over and over again. Quickly, your eyes rolled back as you whimpered out in pleasure, back arched and cunt squeezing as tightly as possible. Tommy groaned out, his movement’s suddenly stilling as he shot his seed deep inside of you. Tommy gleefully smiled out, it had felt like an eternity since he came inside of you.

As you panted out, ears blocked and sight still blurry, you realized Tommy was talking to you.

“A little baby girl, doesn’t that sound nice?” Tommy asked softly, his cock still buried deep inside of you.

“A girl” you smiled weakly, mind still dazed from your post orgasm state.

“Yeah… A girl, she’d be as beautiful as you, eh?” he complimented, his hand rubbed over your lower back as he slipped his size out of your dripping hole.

“No” you mumbled.

“No?”

“I’m not beau-”

Your body is flipped back over. Tommy glared down at you as he read your pained expression behind the dirt. Quietly, he tutted at you as he shook his head.

“Fuck, I’m really going to have to fuck these stupid thoughts out of your head, ain’t I?” Tommy cooed as he found his cock twitching in the cold air.

“Look at me Tommy” you whimpered, eyes swelling up as you looked down at your body. Disgust washed over you, you felt sticky, as if you were covered in grease.

“I am my love, you’re emotional over nothing, just calm down and feel me okay? My poor wife, you have that sadness don’t you?” Tommy soothed you in a condescending yet comforting tone. You murmured out his name, your arms snaking around his back to pull him closer to you. Gradually, Tommy slipped himself back into your sore walls, you mumbled out but showed no resistance. “Shush… I’ll fix you, just squeeze my cock for now, that’s all you have to think about” Tommy smiled softly, his pace picking up.

“Tommy, I-I” you moaned, eyes fluttered and lips spread open.

“Show me how badly you want to be bred” Tommy grunted out, his nostrils flared and hips pistoning in and out of you. Naturally, your walls firmly tightened around his member. Tommy’s body craved yours so badly, it was torture having to wait for you to heal. Many times he wanted to devour you completely. Take your mouth or backside to relive his desire, but he wasn’t cruel like you claimed him to be. “Oh fuck, fuck… Missed your warmth so fucking bad…” Tommy almost whined out as he felt his balls begin to tighten. “Yeah, that’s it…” Tommy moaned, his eyes rolled back as he came inside of you for a second time.

He collapsed on top of you, his face buried into the crook of your name as he murmured your name. Tommy held you tightly as you silently wept, the realization crashing down on you intensely. Eventually, Tommy slid out his softening dick and slipped himself back into his pants.

“Tommy it’s cold” you sniffled as he stood up and brushed off his face and clothing.

Tommy sighed as he helped you up, he brushed the dirt off of yourself and patted your cheek softly. As you rubbed your arms, your shoulders curled in, Tommy slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders.

“There you go my little wife” Tommy smiled and gave you a peck on the lips as he tugged the coat straight. “Come on, the boys must be hungry, I sure am” Tommy grinned, his hands tracing over the outline of your breasts as he licked his lips.

#cillian murphy #smut #cillian murphy smut #dark smut #kinktober 2024 #cillian murphy kinktober #kinktober #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #predator and prey #tommy shelby breeding kink #tommy shelby predator and prey #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders

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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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Alone again - Naturally

Summary: Even around your so-called friend you are alone.

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, loner reader, introvert reader, flirty Clark, low self-esteem, almost accident, fluff, Lois bashing

Alone again. Naturally.

You should’ve known better than to go out with your so-called friend.

A few years back Lois Lane was your best friend. Now you are only an excuse for her to go to a bar or attend a party without one of her flings.

She always was the one drawing all the attention toward her person. In high school, during your freshman year and after you landed your first job at a cat magazine.

Lois Lane. The rising star.

You have always been in her shadow, and this will never change. If you are shy, meek, and introverted, people easily overlook you.

Just like tonight. Lois is once again the center of the party. She chuckles loudly and bathes in the attention she gets from the men in the room.

You sigh deeply, wishing you didn’t follow her invitation to the party her employer throws only for her.

Her latest article got all the attention, while your job led to nothing but articles about birthdays, other people’s weddings, and missing cats.

Your career is just like your love life – non-existent.

Her laughter fills the room, and when she looks your way you hope Lois will save you from drowning in self-pity. Sadly, she turns her back on you to talk to someone else than you.

She always does this. Sometimes you believe she’s the cruelest person on the planet. Maybe she only keeps you around to show you how much better her life is.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” crap, someone found you standing in the corner. Now you have to engage in small talk. You wring your hands and force a smile on your face. “Hi, I’m Clark Kent.”

“Hi,” you glance at his offered hand and murmur your name. “I’m not working here.”

“I got that,” he flashes you a stunning smile. “I assume one of the gentlemen brought his charming girlfriend with him. A shame he left you here.”

“Oh, no,” you shake your head. “Lois invited me and she’s…” You bite your tongue. This man is a stranger, and you don’t want him to believe you are the kind of person talking behind your friend’s back. “She’s busy and I’m not much of a partygoer.”

“Honestly, I came here to hide in the shadows. I’m not much of a partygoer myself,” he grins and finally drops his hand. “So, what do you do for a living.”

“I’m a…” You are embarrassed to admit that you are working for an unimportant online magazine that barely anyone reads. “I write articles.”

“Oh, I’d like to read some. Where can I read them?” He gives you a soft smile. “Anything I should read first?”

“I write about missing cats and such,” you drop your eyes to avert his gaze. “Nothing important like you and Lois. I guess no one even reads the things I write.”

“I’d still like to read your articles.”

“It’s fine, really,” you sniff, and wring your hands again. “I know that the things I write about are boring. No one wants to know about Miss Fluffy ending up stuck in the neighbor’s car. You don’t want to read the things I wrote about.”

“Never underestimate your talent,” Clark tries to cheer you up, but you don’t believe a single word leaving his lips. “I’m sure you are a very good author.”

“No. I’m not.” Your fake smile drops. “I know my place, Mr. Kent.” You get defensive and step back. “You should go back to the party and talk to more interesting people.”

“What about?” He asks as you try to find a way to sneak out of the room without drawing any attention toward you. “Why don’t you come with me and talk to some of the people in the room?”

“I told you, I’m not much of a partygoer, or good at making small talk,” you wince at your words. You sound like the pathetic loser you are in your opinion. “Uh-I should go now.”

“What about Lois?” Clark takes a step toward you. “Don’t you want to say goodbye to her at least?”

You glance at Lois and quickly avert her gaze. She’s not in the mood to hold your hand or talk to you. “I think she’s good without me.” Your voice cracks. “I don’t even know why she invited me.”

“Wait—” Clark tries to stop you, but you hurriedly make your way toward the exit. “Y/N, don’t just go.”

You are out of breath when you finally leave the building. Feeling like a fool for coming here to watch Lois celebrate another milestone in her career.

Before you can go back and apologize to her for leaving without saying goodbye, you hurriedly cross the street.

One moment you want to reach the other side, and the next a car speeds toward you. You gasp, and close your eyes, waiting for the impact.

You don’t feel the car hit you, and you don’t end up dead on the street. You’re suddenly high up in the air, clutching Superman’s suit.

“You should be more careful.”

“I-“ you look up at the superhero you heard so much about. Rumors said that he was dating Lois Lane not so long ago too. At least you read an article telling you so. “Clark?” You furrow your brows as the same soft eyes you saw not moments ago look back at you. “How…?”

“What? I—” He seems to be confused. You’re the first person to uncover his secret. “Y/N, you can’t just run over the street. That’s dangerous.”

“Okay,” you hastily say. I mean, you are floating above a building, your life in a stranger’s hands, and you won't argue with him. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“You can worry me any time,” he wraps one arm around you to bring you closer to his chest. “How about I bring you home?”

“Does…uh…Lois know about your secret identity?” You can’t stop yourself from babbling.

“No,” he whispers lowly. “I guess she wouldn’t have left Clark Kent if she knew I got a secret,” Clark smirks when you look at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“You won’t drop me, right? I swear I won’t tell anyone about your secret.” You claw at him. “No one would listen to me anyway.”

“Do you honestly believe I’d drop you?” He quirks a brow.

“No…I mean…you’re a hero…right?” You pout. “I didn’t want to find out. It’s just…your eyes give you away.”

“I should wear sunglasses from now on,” he laughs while floating toward the next building to land on the rooftop. “If you promise to not tell anyone about my secret, I believe you. And I won’t drop you, sweetness.”

“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully. “Did you date Lois as Superman too?”

He laughs now. “No. She didn’t know we were the same person. Lois broke up with me for Superman and the stories she wanted to write about him.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” you pat his chest, admiring its firmness. “I’m sorry this happened to you. Sometimes she’s just…” You trail off while patting his chest. “You know…”

“Let me bring you home,” Clark stops you from defending your friend. “Please.”

“Can we…uh…walk?”

“I’m already in my suit and got no clothes to change back into Clark,” he lies. Clark could easily change back into his alter ego, but he’d love to fly you home.

“Does this mean you want to fly?” You suck in a breath. “Do you have a seat belt or something?”

“I’ll bring you home safely, Y/N.” You end up back in his arms. This time you sling your arms around him and hold tight onto Clark for dear life. You close your eyes and hide your face in his chest.

You squeak when he pushes off the building. “Now that you know about my secret, do you want to fly with me again someday?”

“Uh-“ you blink your eyes open but still claw at him. “If you bring me home safely, we can do this again.”

“It’s a date then,” he smiles and flies into the night, making a detour to hold you a little longer…

Part 2: Not alone any longer

Tags in reblog.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x fem!reader #shy reader #clark kent #clark kent x you #clark kent x female reader #Alone again - Naturally

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