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screampied · 7 months ago

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‘ HIT OR MISS ?! ’

𝜗℘ feat. toji, sukuna, choso, nanami, gojo. letting them hit ‘n rating their pull out games.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, weak pull out games, doggy, mıssionary, mating prēss, cowgirl, brēeding mentions, praise, dirty talk, impact play, size kinks, pússy whipped men, premature ejac, dumbificafion, size differences, spıt.

GOJO ☆

he doesn’t last a single second. gojo has the weakest pull out game—there’s no debate.

he’s got a glowering pout forming on his glossed quivering lips as he holds your hips in place. “fuuuck,” he chews the inside of his cheek, gazing at the way your cunt easily swallows him. gojo’s angered red tip thoroughly swivels around inside before stretching you out, wearing you thin. just minutes ago, he was talking your ear off on how he was gonna be the best you’ve ever had, how you were gonna moan his name until your voice gave out, and yet - he folded. with snowy brows curling toward each other to form a furrow, gojo moans at the incoming pangs of waves surging through his body. “babyyy, ‘s so fuckin’ good. don’t think ‘m gonna last.”

“i told you, ‘toru,” you huff out a single breath at him, feeling his brief pounds of weight stick against your skin like it was adhesive. you’re holding back moans by sinking the keen edges of your teeth into the skin of your lips. “ ‘s okay, touch me more though,” and his face flushes at your sudden arms slinging over his stiff shoulders. as he’s thrusting in and out, sloppy wet hits of sounds ring through one ear and out the other. your voice was so sweet to him, any word you spoke had him even more whipped than he already was. “don’t be shy.”

“ngh, god you’re so hot,” he whimpers into your neck, his haughty persona immediately fading. gojo shivers a bit, grinding his body up against yours until the bed underneath you starts to creak. shaky shivering breaths ghost down against your skin before his pace grows weak, humping into you with his mouth prying open. “fuck, fuck. ‘m gonna make a mess,” and a gasp wretches from his throat as he locks eyes with you. “c- can i make a mess on you? p- please.”

“go ‘head,” you coo, cupping both warm sides of his face. you’re met with crystalline blue eyes that forevermore got lost with yours.

he’s so feral, feeling himself stick against you each time he moves. both bodies were one as they collide together in bliss. his pace grows more and more frantic before he’s biting into your neck to conceal his candied sweet whimpers. “you’re such a baby,” you tease, running a few fingers down his faded undercut. oh, he always loved whenever you did that. gojo shudders, weighty cock expanding through your walls as your digits roamed. “make a mess, ‘toru. ‘s okay, promise.”

“i- i’m not a baby,” he tries to chastise, yet he’s the one pouting and whimpering into your ear the moment he finishes abruptly. gojo’s knees give out almost right away. it’s cute how he tries to keep up with his smug façade, but now, he’s a mess. all you had to do was run a few fingers down his undercut as he’s finishing inside of you and he was finish. gojo whines, growing hard as his bright blue eyes takes in your beauty — you’re so pretty being underneath him like this. the melting crown of his cock smacks up against your g-spot over and over until you’re seeing nothing but pure white. “ngh, fuck. squeeze me s- so tight. sloppy fuckin’ cunt,” he sucks his teeth, feeling himself not only shoot blanks but shoot ropes of hot cum deep into your womb.

he reached a potent state and you moan right along with him, gently seeping your teeth into the soft edges of his neck. white lashes stick shut against his eyes—glossy and murky. he can barely look at you because he’s embarrassed. gojo groans, realizing he came quicker than he intended. it’s warm, your pussy constricts around his length even still while he’s stuffing you full of his seed.

“toru, baby,” you hum, trying to get his attention, cupping his face once more. you then bring a quick kiss toward his lips. he moans at the taste of you, briefly closing his eyes as your hips steady itself. a raw whimper dies from the back of his throat as he allows you to take control, breathy lungs preparing to collapse as he’s just dumping such mass amounts of cum into your greedy cunt. “good boy, thaaat’s it,” you purr to him, feeling his head shift and lean into your touch. he was so weak for you—even if he never admitted it. gojo’s lip quivers whenever you praise him. he’s a wreck, sweat coats near the bridge of his nose as he whines, a sudden salty taste lingering on the back of his tongue. his cock remains still, swollen tip red and flushed by the crown. as he’s sat upright, hovering over you, his body twitches and your eyes glance down toward his exposed perky nipples.

“heh, w- what’s with that look, angel?” he sheepishly pants, flaccid cock plugging you full even still after he finished just seconds ago.

your stare—you looked hungry for more. gojo nervously laughs until he stares at his pecs too. his nipples were pink and swollen. “mhh,” you leisurely lean into him, latching your plump lips onto one of his pecs. he moans, still feeling sensitive from his recent release but your lips—he was even more sensitive. your tongue rolls around his nipple before you suck hard, closing your eyes and sliding your free hand down his chest.

“god, you’re kinda kinky today,” he tries to joke. but there was no joke—because gojo whines the second he feels himself grow hard again. and that’s right when he knew, he was about to cum yet again. “o- oh fuck.”

TOJI ☆

“bend over f’me,” he gruffs and your ass is met with a rude spank once he flips you over on your chest. the second your left ass cheek gets met with the front of toji’s bare open palm, you moan. “mhm, don’t get shy. let’s see that arch again,” and your face gets smushed right in between the crimson colored silk sheets. on command, your hips raise up and you lean into his roughly smooth touch. “atta girl, let’s see my favorite wet pussy.”

“t- tojiiii,” you drag out his name, sucking in an incoming breath. it was almost embarrassing how much he made you clench, how much he made you pulse. he rubs a palm against the stinging part of your ass before aligning his leaky tip. your cunt was soaked, profusely sweltering hot with your own slippery slick. he licks his lips at the sight, tip of his tongue swiping against his scar as he smacks his fat cock against your puffed folds. “don’t tease me, p- please.”

a dark throaty cackle leaves from his lips as he leans down, staring at your drooling cunt before spitting right down between your slit. “quiet, baby girl. i’ll fuckin’ tease ya if i want,” and you moan, feeling the fat pad of his thumb smear the lustrous trail of saliva near your hole and back down towards your clit. you whimper, feeling your thighs jitter in pleasure at just how nasty he really was. “my my, look at this pretty girl down here cryin’ for more of me,” he rasps, gathering another wad of saliva before spitting straight onto your sopping cunt. he snickers, rubbing the head of his mushroom tip around your opening before finally inserting himself inside. “don’t know who’s fuckin’ whinier. you or this crybaby of a pussy, heh.”

toji’s so big, so fucking big. without a doubt he’s a packer, stretching your cunt open in all the right ways and angles. within minutes, your jaw’s already dangling open - it’s stupid, you’re stupid.

with every milliseconds that passes—his cockhead continues to repeat itself, thrashing and french kissing up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. your jaw tightens as he’s mercilessly rutting into you, sharp hips giving you crazed whiplash. “fuck, fuck,” you whimper, gasping once he grabs one of your wrists, restraining it around your back. your limbs grew knobbly as the heavy base of his cock smacks against your ass. you’re dizzy, insanely so—you whine, trying to fit the bawled fist of your hand into your mouth. but alas, it’s to no avail because you’re left drooling, feeling your eyes roll back and only hearing the squelching sounds of your needy gripping cunt. “fuck me, toji. right there, ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“yeah, yeah. perfect fit just for you, baby,” he groans, his palm swatting against the fat of your ass again. this time, it’s not so rough. the tender feeling of the hit makes you whine. arching your back out a bit more, he feels your pussy squeeze around him and his ravened brows curl up together. “shit, y’er already pretty but you’d look even prettier with my cum drippin’ out of you,” another grunt scratches at his throat. toji’s sharp hips were so unapologetically mean, each snap of his body makes you jerk forward and back into him. it’s so quick, just a few solid deep thrusts and he was so close to pumping you full. you don’t know why, but the thought of toji pouring such deep sultry amounts of cum into you makes your mouth water.

he’s got a horrible pull out game and he knows it too—but he could really care less. toji’s got the stamina equivalent to a horse, he’s drilling you in your own bed at full speed, watching as you fill the room up with your desperate sweet moans. as he’s ravaging your swollen walls, he reels you back into his sculpted pelvis once he sees and feels you trying to crawl away. “nuh uh,” and you gasp once he grabs you by the throat — gingerly, a few thick fingers wrap around your neck as he pulls you back. “c’monnn, big girls don’t chicken out. get the fuck back here, princess.”

“hngh, toji,” you whimper, suddenly feeling his hips slow down. his rhythm loses its haste for a moment before he groans. with his head tossing itself back, his clashing rutting hips slam right into you one last time. it takes you a moment to realize he’d just came inside—creamy gooey loads dribble into you almost immediately and you’ve never felt more full. he hisses, openly staring at your dehydrated cunt as it slurps him full. the noises, it’s so wet and saturated—you didn’t believe that was you at first. your eyes were drooping downward as you’re idly slumped forward with your ass still raised in the air. “fuck,” you whine, hearing him all of a sudden grow quiet. toji’s warm hot wads of cum fill you up so good that it starts to spill out all down the undersides of your thighs. it’s a mess—and he can’t take his eyes off you. his angry reddened tip continues to jolt itself in and out before only seconds later, he pulls out.

so much was stuffed into you that it’s spilling right back out. gooey ropes that plug inside ooze out of your hole and he snickers. toji huskily groans, using a plump circled thumb to rub the excess amounts of his seed against the outer part of your pussy. “damn,” he huffs, imagining what you’d taste like along with the mixture of his cum that’s trickling down your clit. you even had the nerve to wriggle your ass in front of him. toji hums, squeezing your ass before admiring at how good he’s stuffed you. toji releases his grip leaning down, giving the right cheek of your ass a kiss. “heh, so. you are on the pill right, baby?”

“w- what pill?”

“………”

CHOSO ☆

you tell him he can go inside and his face lights up almost right away.

choso wants to do his very best. he takes pleasing you very seriously. and of course, once the time comes—he practically begs for you to ride him. he just had to see your face while you’re on top, straddling him.

“tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” he mutters, soft yet rough hands maneuvering circles against your back. choso’s touch was always gentle—he treated you like porcelain, like glass. docile dark irises meet yours as you’re hovering over his sheeny tip that’s glistening with pre-cum. rutting back and forth against his swollen peeling cockhead, you watch as choso bites his lip. “fuuuck,” he peers down, staring at the way your slobbering cunt was just eager to take him inside. “i- i wanna make sure you feel good, baby. don’t care if i don’t finish.”

your heart flutters at his words — oh, he was always so considerate. to choso, your pleasure was his pleasure.

as you gently brush up your hips against him, his cock slowly buries its way inside. immediately, he’s smothered with your warmth that’s welcoming him and it makes him whine. “i’ll tell you if it hurts. promise,” you whisper against the soft shell of his ear. a rippling wave of goosebumps ran down his body at your voice. the sloppy grip of your cunt makes him moan, grabbing onto your hip. wasting no time, you bite your lip—preparing to take him fully. he sinks all the way in until it’s a brief ‘pop’ sound that occurs the moment you’re sat right on his thickset base. “i’ll go nice ‘n slow, choso,” you murmur to him, holding his flushed cheeks. his hair was unkempt and messy, long darkened strands outgrown and running down his eyes. he’s so pretty, especially up close.

choso moans once your sweet lips press against the bridge of his nose—near his mark. he loves your kisses.

he could drown in them, just like he could drown in your wet cunt. it doesn’t even have to take him that long, because within a snap—choso’s already pussy drunk. just a few seconds inside and it was a wrap for him. “oh, oh my god,” he leans back, his abs flexing within each yanking pull of his muscles. he was ripped and you couldn’t help but skim a few teasing fingers down his pecs. so ripped, a few veins that prod into his skin feel against your touch and he whimpers. you were so soft and warm inside that he felt the brief gape of your pussy trying to swallow him whole and it felt so good. too good. “baby, ‘m sorry. ‘m sorry, fuck.”

throwing your arms over his broad tense shoulders, you giggle with a head tilt. “for what?” and already, there’s a nice sheet of sweat racing down the sides of his face. choso’s hair that’s usually in two ponytails was loosely down. he looked pretty, long hair flows down his back and dances in the wind at every unsteady movement. your hips were his weakness—you rode him so good every time that it left him almost speechless.

choso hiccups. “s- sorry for,” and he forgot why he was even apologizing—your cunt was just that good. its enticing grip had him whipped and strained inhales continue to rip out of his lungs by force. dark lengthy lashes glue shut as he holds onto your hips, feeling his mouth pry itself open. “i love you, i love you b- baby, don’t stop fuckin’ me please. w- what was i saying?”

“you’re so cute. i love you too,” you pepper kisses all over his face, quickening your hips just a bit more. he moans, feeling his face grow flushed. oh, he was embarrassed. even more embarrassed as he was earlier. as his fat swollen cock continues to run through your insides, choso tries to cover his face with his hands. once his palms feels against his face, they feel so hot. his own heat radiates from him and he whimpers. “aw, don’t hide from me, ‘cho. it’s okay,” you reassure him, pulling his hands away. with a bashful expression, he wraps his arms around your waist again. he’s so clingy, holding you tight and pulling you into his chest. your bouncing against his lap makes him dizzy. his whimpers against your earlobe grow louder until the time comes where he’s finally stuffing you full.

whenever choso came, it was a lot.

the curse whines into your neck as he’s pouring such gluey amounts into you. his ears continuously ring at the sounds of him spurting right into you, not missing at all. with ease, he’s plunging such amounts of sticky seed into you until he can’t anymore. it makes his head spin and his heart race, you were dangerous—at least, in this case, your cunt was.

he’s got quite the weak pull out game, and of course—whenever you said he can finish inside, he’d never ever miss. choso’s jaw tightens before his eyes grow insignificantly droopy that they hang low. such filthy thoughts foil at his brain as his blushing tip remains buried into your now filled up pussy. he wants to stay like this forever, the thought of pulling out makes him cutely scowl. “baby,” he inhales, still having a secure arm around your torso. choso held you close to him, still shaking as he’s still pouring thick satiny ropes into your womb. it’s an entire mess—so much that it spills down your thighs. he uses a thumb to smear it against your skin before having a pussy drunk grin. “i .. i wanna marry you, baby. please.”

SUKUNA ☆

with sukuna—there’s no such thing as a pull out game. he’s a demon, and more importantly, he’s a demon in bed too.

“i’m gonna get ya pregnant,” he groans, and each time he spills yet another hot load into you, he repeats that same sentence again. “you’d be such a pretty queen,” sukuna snarls, sharp fingertips softly raking down your exposed spine. you’re laid on your chest, having your face being shoved between two fat positioned pillows. muffled moans escape out of your throat as he’s fucking you silly. a big hand of his claws into your hair, tugging firmly at a few roots that grip into your scalp. you whimper, the slanting arch in your back deepening its height before he spanks you. “ugh, such a sloppy girl today. pretty cunt just loves sluttin’ itself out on me.”

sukuna’s voice was deep—you felt yourself pulse between your legs whenever he spoke in that rough low tone.

his thick cock was so big, so so big. and that’s just one—you didn’t wanna think what it’d be like to take two. even with prep, it took you a while to adjust to his delicious size. as he’s haphazardly pounding you into the sage-colored sheets, you whimper out sweet cries that fall on deaf ears as he’s practically splitting you open each and every single time.

“kuna, sukuna, fuck,” you babble out, your eyes widening to the size of saucers once his lengthy dick thrashes up against that spot. he’s a lot bigger than you, his frame ultimately towers over you and you even get wet from his shadowing silhouette. your mouth opens and more spews of whines leave you as he accelerates his hips ever further. the bed screams, each creak sounds like it’s gonna be its last and you were almost positive it was preparing to break. “more, more please.”

“tch. you should see yourself,” the curse grunts, a sly smile contorting against the corners of his mouth. with the way your pussy tightens around him, he pivots his hips, watching as you gasp in awe at his deep angle. “mm, right here, huh. such a sensitive girl. ‘m gonna give you another fill. you’d like that, huh,” he grouses, feeling the sting in his thighs grow. despite his muscles tensing and tightening, he pushes the feelings away, focusing on you and your sweet pussy. as he’s preparing to come to his very orgasmic end, sukuna finds himself biting his lower lip with his fangs piercing into the skin. the image of getting you pregnant—having you bare his offspring, it makes him feral. “dumb girl, i’m talkin’ to you,” sukuna snaps gruffly at your lack of response and you moan once his thrusts deepen. as he speaks, he teasingly knocks against the back of your head. “anyone in there or are ya already too stupid.”

“b- breed me, ‘kuna,” you whimper, already feeling yourself turning into a puddled mess. sukuna could never keep his hands off of you, he’s grabbing you everywhere - all hands were occupied, getting a good gripping feel of your presentable curves. “please please,” you plead, hearing the squelching sounds of your own cunt do begging of its own. there’s a white creamy ring that coats around his base already—the more you jerk against him, the more rough he becomes. by now, your pretty pink tongue’s rolled and lolled out. you’re panting like a dog in heat, gasping once he’s fucking you deeply into his royal king sized mattress. “fuuuck, want it. want more, don’t miss, ‘kuna.”

he lowly chuckles, finding your begging endearing. “hey girl. watch that fuckin’ mouth,” and the demon pops a finger past the opening of your lips. you moan, swirling your tongue around his middle finger as he’s still pounding into you with at chaotic speed. such thrusts, you’re already a mess but with the way his cock was molding your walls, you’d be even messier. sukuna grows hard, feeling you happily suck against his finger — he grunts as he’s bringing you closer toward your teetering edge. it feels hot inside, your walls were always clingy and didn’t ever dare to let go. the moistened grip of your walls was permanent and he was never one to complain. “take it then, c’mon,” he growls, snatching his finger out of your mouth to hold onto both of your jittery hips. “fuck, take it all. saved so much for you again, princess.”

he’s so big that you feel him shaping a faint tummy bulge all due to the hefty size of his thick cock. you’re such a mess—drooling all on the pillow that’s being bit on by your teeth.

“s- sukuna.” you whine, eyes of yours starting to flicker their way back once he finishes inside you again.

a pool of hot cum oozes its way inside of you until it’s pouring down both of your thighs like a waterfall. catching your breaths, you swallow your pity, savoring your own pathetic honeyed taste of saliva as he’s giving you yet another fill—it’s sticky, your thighs had already gave out and he groans. it’s so much, dumps of cum shoot into you raw and he huffs, bare buff chest glistening with slick sweat.

“look at this mess,” he snickers, bringing a palm toward his forehead to wipe his sweat away. he grunts, pulling out slowly to see his obscene creation he gave to you yet again.

you’re shaking—your ass was still propped up in the air with your knees buried into the thinly woven sheets. sukuna raises a brow as he hears your breathing come to a sudden slow. he finds your worn out state cute and he swats a hand against your ass. but this time, it’s not a spank. it’s a soft tender rub.

you moan as he’s caressing your stung cheek before he smears a thumb down your puffy full cunt, gathering a nice amount of his own filth. “how cute. ‘s still pouring out of you. looks like someone needs to be cleaned again,” and your eyes feel hooded and heavy. with a quick motion, you’re suddenly flipped over onto your back and the demon sprawls your legs apart with a single hand. you’re panting, curling your toes up in anticipation before he licks a sticky path of fresh cum that’s drooling out of your sobbing cunt. rolling out his forked tongue for you to see, he hums with a sly grin.

“spread these pathetic legs a bit more. ‘m not done with my meal just yet, little girl.”

NANAMI ☆

“oh my love,” he whispers into your ear, his low husky voice making your heart flutter - not just your heart but the pretty pulsating heat that lies between your legs flutters also.

with nanami—he’d have the best pull out game. nanami can practically smell your arousal, he doesn’t even have to do much but he can tell. with one hand, he lies you flat on your back, a thin stem of a flower he was about to give you tucks right between his teeth. “are you sure this ‘s what you want? let me hear that beautiful voice again. talk to me nice, pretty.”

always the romantic, there was lit candles everywhere and he’s got you right where he wants. nanami sprawls your legs forward the second you utter out a whiney, “y- yes,” and your eyes glance toward his blond happy trail that’s running down his perfectly sculpted body. you were already soaking wet — he barely had to do anything, just his voice alone was enough to have your panties in a twist. he places the flower aside for a moment before leaning up close. nanami then gently shoves both of your knees up toward your chest. mating press, you gulp once you see the sweet yet feral look in his eyes.

he was hungry - hungry for you. as he’s aligning himself, you hold onto him for dear life and he’s whispering all sorts of filthy coos into your ear.

in public, he was the ideal gentleman, a professional who had charm for days. yet in private with you, he didn’t mind to be just a little bit dirty.

“i’ve been thinkin’ about you all day at work today, honey,” he grunts, swollen tip thrashing between your weeping folds. you were sopping wet underneath your thighs, a thumb of his rubs against your entrance and you whimper - feeling pounds of his weight sink you further into the fat mattress. “you remember those cute voice notes i told you to send me?”

you felt your cunt go into a panic of flutters the more he spoke, he’s entering inside and you huff out, gasping—the stretch was so raw.

jogging back your memory to quite a few hours ago, you did remember. nanami told you to send him a few voice memos of yourself because he couldn’t call you while he was at work. he missed your voice, and hearing your cute sentences was just enough for him. “yeah,” you breathe, feeling the fullness of your lungs arise. once he starts to fuck you into the mattress, the abrupt snap of his hips makes you whine out. he’s so deep, calloused balmy hands of his feel all over your body, stealing a few grabs at the curvature of your ass with no shame. he’s missed touching you, he’s missed smelling you, he’s missed being inside. with both warm entangled bodies grinding into and onto each other in salacious harmony, you bite your lip. warm fawn eyes meet yours and he hums, stroking your quivering bottom lip with a soft thumb. “y- you sent me your boner afterwards.”

“i did,” he coos, softly licking a stripe near your neck.

so sweet, he could savor and taste you forever. remembering the thought makes his dick twitch and you feel the pulse almost instantly. nanami’s fucking you rigorously into chalky white sheets, raspy pants bellow out from his gruff vocal cords as he grabs onto the crying wooden headboard. you stare at his arm and his veins prod in his biceps—he’s so ripped, you felt yourself throb at just the sight of his muscles alone. focusing back toward the crying bed, it’s screeching due to nanami’s precise hits, he’s hitting you good and he’s hitting you deep. nanami’s pace was never too fast or too quick, it was just right and it had your head spinning everytime. his crazed tempo always gave you a run for your money. leaning into your neck once more, he created a trail of chaste kisses near the outline of your collarbone.

“fuck, oh— excuse my filthy tongue, sweetheart,” he jibes, guiding his damp lips toward your chest now. so pretty, with the way you were just laid back for him with your knees shoved up to your chest, it had him thinking raunchy thoughts. “but thank you, it helped me get through the day,” and you gasp again once he buries his face between the valley of your chest. humming, he kisses both of your breasts. “i missed my girls.”

blurbs of whimpers rip out of your throat as he continues to fuck you stupid—stupid until you’re utterly dumb, completely dim witted and dumbfounded all because of his cock.

nanami’s girth had you almost drooling, he wisps a few fingers to play against your soddened cunt that’s hidden between your shaky legs before feeling your sloppy grip around him tighten. your walls wrung him dry—hugging him and squeezing around him like a vice. “ken, kentooo,” you whine, deafening beats of your own heart growing so loud that you can hear them blare straight out through both ears. “ngh, cum, ‘m gonna cum.”

“i know, i know,” he purrs, gripping your chin with a single hand. his hips move with such suave speed that you could barely keep up. his weight that’s pressing into you makes you throb again for the nth time. nanami huffs, blond thin strands of hair gluing to his forehead before he moans himself. “c’mon, give it to me,” and he notices how you look away, feeling yourself about to succumb to your inevitable climax. “hey, hey lovie look at me,” and slowly, you meet his loving gaze again. nanami’s hips slow down and he’s just as close as you were—although he didn’t care about his finish as much as yours. you lean into his soft touch, feeling an open palm of his rub against your belly in circles. “there we go. just let go. make a mess on kento ‘n let me clean it, yeah?”

once you came—he came too, although he pulls out quickly, spraying viscid velvety ropes all on your tummy.

nanami’s matching the pace of your pants, chiseled chest sticking against your own before he groans. the shock your body felt was almost insane, you clench down on your jaw before squeezing your eyes shut briefly, still feeling the staticky waves of rapture surge through every vein.

“such a good girl,” he whispers, his voice mirroring just how shaky yours was. nanami leans into you, planting a single kiss on your forehead. a sheepish smile curls against his lips as he notices the damp spot you created underneath the two of you. with a soft expression, nanami spreads your legs again, grinding his body against yours whilst pulling you into a deep kiss. every few seconds, he pulls away, brushing a thumb against your lips before whispering. “but, oh—you made a little mess today, sweetheart. i’m so proud of you.”

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tojipie · 1 year ago

Text

content: gentleman! shiu x fem reader, asshole! toji x fem reader :((, smut, blowjobs, semi-public, soft n loving !, creampie, cunnilingus, vvv minimal degradation

1.1k words !

format was loosely inspired by this lovely jaw breaking scrumptious post written by the extra talented satocidal

the two men in your life were dual sides to a deliciously sinful scale, bringing two vastly different creeds to the bedroom. keep just one, and the scale shifts, leaving you unfulfilled. keep both, and watch as they balance in perfect equilibrium.

˚ ✧ ───────────

shiu likes pretty things. soft, warm bodies he can bring home and toy with on his nights off. likes using his charm to break you in first, getting you all pliant for him before he fucks you.

he always starts with his mouth, always. soft kisses melding into deep, sinful strokes over your tongue with his own, overloading every single one of your senses with something else that is so uniquely him.

shiu is a sensual man, experienced well beyond words. the type to wine and dine. he takes pleasure out of pleasing you, growing hard in his dress pants as his tongue sends bolts of electricity down your spine and to your aching core.

he likes to surprise you sometimes, licking a stripe from just above your mound to below your navel, blowing over the wetness to watch you squirm at the temporary coldness before letting you settle down on your knees, a pillow wedged under your legs.

he’s gentle as he guides his length into your mouth, whispering soft praises while his thumb strokes over the swell of your cheek, obstructed by the shape of his cock slipping in and out of your throat.

he wipes the tears from your eyes every time, pressing a kiss to each eyelid with mumbles of “aww can’t take it?” and “we’ll train that out of you, don’t worry.”

it doesn’t matter that you’re already drenched, leaking onto the pillow separating your body from the floor. he’ll make time to eat you out, every. single. time.

thick, wide strokes of his tongue over your heat gradually melt into soft, gentle sucks on your clit. you can't quite remember when he laced his hand with yours, the warm weight keeping you grounded while you paint the lower half of his face in slick.

“don’t cum yet,” he whispers, flicking his tongue back and forth over your hole. you nod despite the stars clouding your vision, hand squeezing his like a vice. you hike your knees up to your chest as he shucks his pants down the rest of the way, keening at the praise you get for catching on so quickly.

don’t cum, not because he doesn’t want to see it happen, but because he wants you to do it on his cock.

he’s a tease through and through, slapping the weight of his dick on your opening before he pushes in, basking in the way your face screws up with desire.

shiu’s kind, attentive, always knowing what you need before you can say it. long, sensual strokes push you towards your edge, two hands locked iron-tight around your waist to pull you down onto his cock.

you don’t need to warn him before you cum when he already knows, licking his thumb and rubbing quick circles into the swollen bud of your clit. sucking dark marks into the delicate skin of your neck as you convulse around him.

shiu was pure sensuality. the type to make your head spin.

˚ ✧ ───────────

toji, to put it bluntly, simply liked getting his dick wet.

what can he say? the man loves sluts. hard, fast, and filthy sex, that was his specialty. and you were no exception to his bruteness.

whenever, wherever. that was his motto.

and so it was no surprise that you’d found yourself shut away in the corner of the mall’s single-stall bathroom 10 minutes after closing time, hand cupped around your mouth to mask your sounds of pleasure.

“no one takes cock like you do angel,” he whispers, a large hand rubbing circles into your tummy.

the gesture is oddly comforting, though that doesn’t last long as soon as soon as his thrusts pick up, trapping you between his hulking form and the cool wood of the bathroom door.

you needed this, needed him to treat you the way he did to feel something, that rush of electricity that starts in the out of your stomach and makes your ears ring. you couldn’t only live off of princess treatment from your other beau, not when toji was here, in the flesh.

the sound of shuffling outside makes your blood run cold, a harsh knock rattling the hinges of the door.

“is someone in there?” a husky voice asks, jiggling the handle with a sigh.

“janitor,” you whisper, struggling to speak as he continues to pound into you, not faltering even once.

“so?” he sighs, hiking your leg up to get a deeper angle.

the spot he hits inside of you is blinding, the head of his cock nudging against pure ecstasy with every movement.

“alright i’m coming in,” the voice warns, the sound of keys forcing you into action.

your hands jut out to hold the door shut, wobbling on one leg with the other still in toji’s grip.

“nono i’m—mmhh—busy!” you call, face burning at the accidental slip.

“busy using the bathroom!” you add, as if it’ll sound more convincing. toji laughs into the crook of your neck, still using your body like a cocksleeve.

“slut,” he mutters. the sound of his palm coming down on your ass likely doesn't go unheard by the stranger.

the keys recede, and so does your grip on the door handle.

“you better be out in 5 minutes, you hear me?”

“th—fuck, toji— thank you!”

you feel yourself being flipped around, both legs now in the air with your upper half supported against the door. the sound is anything but cautious, earning a raspy groan from the man holding you up.

“gonna fucking cum,” he whispers, face tucked into the curve of your neck. you reach down to rub your clit at his admission.

a few more thrusts are all you get before hot seed floods your inner walls, warmth spreading up your spine. you reach your high soon after, feeling him shudder while your cunt milks him for all he’s got.

“fuck,” he groans, pulling out of you after your high fades. firm hands reach to steady you as you quickly pull your panties up, smithing your dress back over your wobbly legs.

“gotta get out of here,” you mumble, watching him tuck himself back into his jeans. the two of you slip out into the empty corridor, searching for an exit hand-in-hand

“you’re such a good girl, you know that?” toji mumbles into your neck, leading you down the stairs to the parking garage. you wobble into the passenger seat of his car, watching him settle into the driver’s side.

there he goes again, that little sprinkle of affection in a sea of obscenity.

“ugh, my legs are sore,” you mutter, kicking your feet up on the dash to text shiu and ask when you were meeting up next. you guess when it came down to it, you’d always need balance.

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bengals-barnesbabe · 1 month ago

Text

Players

Pair: LSU!Joe Burrow x LSU basketball player!reader (friends with benefits), minor LSU!Joe Burrow x OC

Descr: You just want to focus on your career and have a good time in college. Do you make some mistakes? Sure, but why is everyone you know trying to change your mind?

TW: 18+ MINORS DNI | toxic relationships, cheating, lying, language, smut/its nasty, oral (f & m rec), fingering, unprotected sex (don’t try this at home), public sex, cocky/fuckboy!joe, commitment issues, betrayal, arguments, gaslighting (SO MUCH).

Main Masterlist

WC: 6.7k

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 💔 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

I don’t know how I keep getting myself in this situation.

The situation: It’s late, no one else is in the gym. The perfect setting to get in a quiet workout. That’s all I wanted and had for the first hour before catching his reflection in the mirror in front of me.

Joe Burrow. He’s not nearly as sweaty as I am, meaning he’s not here for this kind of workout; the lip bite, the fiery look in his eyes, and the way his gaze travels my sports bra and tight shorts-wearing figure says it all. He smirked when our eyes locked in the mirror and walked towards me until his chest was against my back.

Without breaking eye contact, I bent over and placed the dumbbells I had held on the ground. His hands quickly clutch my hips as my ass accidentally pushes back on him before leaning back up and removing myself from his hold.

In an attempt to regain his composure, Joe keeps himself busy putting away my weights and other equipment while I pack up my stuff. While he’s distracted, I leave the weight room and turn the corner for the lobby. But before I could walk any further, a large hand reaches out and pulls me back into a secluded locker room and I’m pushed against the lockers. I barely have time to laugh before his lips are shoved onto mine, and his hands are gripping my ass.

“I texted you.” He groans, sucking on my neck.

“My phone must’ve died. No marks!” He picks his head up and rolls his eyes. Then he pulls out his phone and calls my number. The sound of my ‘dead’ phone ringing makes him clench his jaw while I snort. “Whoops.”

“Yeah and so was that hickey.” He smirks as I turn to find a mirror.

“You fucking didn’t, what the hell Joe.” I curse finding the shiny purple marks littered on my neck.

“Next time, you’ll pick up when I call.” Then, he pulls me from the back of my neck onto his lips. I wrap my arms around his neck, feeding his needy lips and slowly succumbing to lust building between us.

“I don’t have to do shit.” I moan against his lips as he wedges a thick thigh between my legs.

“But you want to.” He groans as I grind down on his thigh, providing my own friction as well as for his bulge. “That’s enough of that.”

He removes his thigh and palms his erection through his sweat shorts. “On your knees.”

Biting back a smirk, I start to let my hands slowly drag down his body as I kneel for him. My eyes stay locked on his. His pupils are blown out with the thinnest blue outline, my painstakingly calm actions testing his limits, while my face shows the most pure wide-eyed doe, staring up at an unknown danger.

My touch trails down his thighs to his knees while my face is at eye level with his desire. “What do I do now?” My voice, painfully innocent, only makes him grow harder.

One of his hands cups my jaw, his thumb gently padding on the fat of my lips. “I think you know.”

His voice was raspy and low like gravel. Softly smiling, I lean into his hand, slip his thumb in my mouth, and twirl my tongue around it. Joe sucks in a gasp, his teeth gnawing at his lips as I let his thumb go with a slick pop.

“Is that what you want?”

That’s how I ended up where I am now, with his hand gripping the back of my head as I bob up and down his cock on the locker room floor. With his deep curses and praises, along with my light gags and the sound of my slick mouth welcoming his pretty pink dick echoing throughout the vacant room.

“Fuck you’re such a good girl.”

“Doing such a good job sucking my cock, you like that don’t you.”

“I can never get enough of this mouth.”

His whines and groans only fuel me to take him in deeper, his tip now well bullying the back of my throat as I moan around him. “Oh shit.” I open my eyes to the clang of his head hitting the metal lockers, and an overwhelming sense of pride fills my belly.

“I’m gonna come, shit just like that.”

He tries to hold on for a moment longer, not wanting the warmth of my mouth to disappear, but he makes the mistake of looking down at me.

The slight bulge of my throat, the streaks of tears running down my pretty face, my pouty lips coated in his slick and spit, but the final straw is me looking right up at him that has him letting out the deepest moan and releasing his load down my awaiting throat.

I waste no time swallowing as much of his cum as I can before he comes down from his breathtaking high and pulls out.

“Holy shit, I’ll never get used to that.” He sighs, pulling up his shorts and leaning back on the locker, happily spent.

“You’re welcome, tell your friends.” I croak reaching for the water bottle in my bag.

“I will not be doing that. Your mouth is for me and me only. Best fucking head I’ve ever gotten.” He snorts as I roll my eyes.

“Better than your girlfriend?”

He smirks and crouches down to my level. “You know it, baby.” Then kisses my swollen lips.

“Joe,” I sigh, pulling away. “We should get out of here.”

“Yeah, it's pretty late, huh?” We both nod, and he helps me to my feet, swinging my bag on his back.

“So, my place or yours?”

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳*°:⋆ₓₒ

So, the cycle doesn’t stop; the purely sexual desire between us never goes away. It doesn’t matter that we’ve had the same routine of me ignoring him only to end up back in his bed days later. Or that our thing takes away the time he could be spending with the one he claims as ‘his girl.’ A girl I’ve gotten to know well, considering we’re teammates and we live together. Do I feel guilty for what’s going on? Sure, but it’s not like I have feelings for him. We just like to fuck around; I mean, we’re young, so who’s gonna stop us.

Amaya doesn’t have to know.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳*°:⋆ₓₒ

A month later, we all get invited to a Halloween-themed frat party. It’s the last big event before my Junior season, and the entire team is going. We decided to go with a Tinker Bell/ Pixie Hollow theme. I’m Iridessa, the light fairy, wearing a satin pastel yellow strapless crop top, a matching skirt, and a gold flower crown. Amaya’s supposed to be Silvermist, the water fairy, and even though he was never supposed to be a part of it, Joe took it upon himself to be Peter Pan like the drama queen he is. We all doubt he’ll do the costume any justice, but no one can stop him from wearing whatever he wants.

As I’m finishing up my makeup, I notice Amaya still in her pjs, sitting at her computer. “Hey, aren’t you going to the party tonight?”

She sighs and leans on her hand. " I can’t. I have a paper due at 8 a.m. and am barely halfway done.”

“Aww, I was excited for us to be fairies together.” I pout, fixing my crown.

“I know, I just put this off forever, and I can’t let my grades slip- it’s a midterm. But have fun without me.” She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I get that. We’ll definitely miss you, though. After we take a group picture, I’ll photoshop you into it.” We both chuckled as I grabbed my bag and headed towards the door.

“I appreciate it, oh Y/n!”

“Yea?” I turn back with a grin.

“If you see Joe, can you tell him we need to talk?” Something inside me trembles, but my smile stays intact.

“Yeah, of course, I hope he’s not in the doghouse.” I giggle, then walk out the door. “Fuck.” I huff, leaning against the wooden door and letting the situation weigh on me.

Why does she need to talk to him? Does she know something? Did someone tell her something? I don’t remember getting suspicious looks from anyone who didn’t already know about my thing with him. It was probably Ja’Marr trying to be a pain in the ass. He walks in on us one time and decides to use it as ammo for the rest of my life.

As I continued to think about every possible situation, I felt my phone buzz.

From: American Deli💋

I’m outside

Was it a horrible idea for Joe to give me a ride to this party that we were initially supposed to attend with friends? Yes, but somehow this shit was working out in my favor. For some reason, he wanted to see me before the party, and Amaya backed out. As far as I know, right now I’m in the clear.

I took one last breath and stood up straight to leave when I heard Amaya’s voice from outside the door.

“Yeah, I’m coming. Give me some time; she just left. I know we have to act fast, but we can’t catch them together if she suspects something’s up. Yes, I know we’re talking about my boyfriend here. We don’t even know what happened that night; just because you saw them leave the gym together doesn't mean anything happened. Maybe his friends aren’t telling you shit because there’s nothing to say. I live with her, Ryan; I think I would know if she was fucking my boyfriend.”

Oh I'm in trouble.

As quietly as I can, I run down the stairs of my apartment and hop in his truck.

“You took your sweet ass time.” Joe rolls his eyes, then registers my outfit. “Oh shit, baby you put that on for me.”

“Not now Joe. Drive, just drive. We need to talk.”

“Better be about how much of that outfit I can ruin. If it’s not, I don’t wanna hear it.” He purses his lips, trying to peak at how short the skirt is.

“Joe, she knows.” I roll my eyes as his spare hand plays with the light fabric, barely covering my thighs and skirting as far away from his reach as possible.

“What are you talking about?” He stops at a red light and reaches over to pull my body closer to the middle console.

“Your girlfriend, asshole. She knows about us.” I sigh, letting him caress my warm caramel skin.

We lock eyes for a soft moment. “I’ve never been an asshole to you.”

“You were when we first met.” I challenge, making him chuckle and continue driving.

“Yea then you somehow landed on my dick after that. So I guess you liked it.” He winks in the rearview mirror.

“Oh fuck off, we shouldn't even be talking about that right now.”

He groans, one hand white-knuckling the wheel and the other clutching my thigh. “Why else are we going to this dumb party? Neither of us can drink or have any other kind of fun.”

“My season is literally about to start, Joe. Not everyone is the underdog right now.”

“Which is why we’re just going to have sex.” He says, completely ignoring the obvious.

“Joseph, your girlfriend is literally getting ready right now to catch us at this party doing exactly that. We can’t go.”

“Y/n, who gives a shit? You’ve been in the gym torturing me for a week. Now you’re saying we can't fuck tonight?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I nod, crossing my arms. “And you don’t need me to get your dick wet, go ask your girl for some.”

“Fuck that, I’d rather be fucking you than dating her any day.” Then, instead of turning on the road for the party, he pulls into an empty parking garage.

This is why I block him every couple of weeks because he loves saying stupid shit like that.

“Oh my god, you can’t say that. Why are you dating her then, huh? You barely go out; you’re only ever hanging on our couch. You don’t even invite her to your games. What’s this fucking for, then?” I huffed, my fuse shortening.

Joe puts the car in park and turns his attention to me. “You.”

My eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

“You’re right. I don’t need to be with her. I want to be with you.”

“No the fuck, you don’t.” Shaking my head as he goes on about his feelings.

“How are you going to sit here, in my truck, and tell me what I don’t want? I’m only with her because she’s your roommate. If I’m with her, I get to be with you.”

“You’re being dramatic. If you wanna break up with her, don’t use me to justify the fact that you’re a shitty boyfriend.” I spat, my nails digging into the seat.

He scoffs and slouches against the car door. “Look at who’s being dramatic now. This is the shit you never wanna hear, so I don’t say it.”

I groaned. “Please just stop. I told you-

Joe rolls his eyes. “No labels, no feelings, no commitments, just sex. Just mind-blowing, gravity-defying, amazing sex.” A mantra everyone should live and die by.

“Exactly, so why are you trying to fuck it up?!”

“I’m not. I’m here to have sex- you’re here to argue. You never cared about me having a girlfriend, and now that she might catch us, you want us to stop.” He scoffs.

“I never said we should stop Joe.” I look down and play with the yellow mesh of my skirt. I could hear the way he huffed into the air and unbuckled to free himself from restraints.

“What would us getting caught do, Y/n? Make it so I can fuck you at your place without having to worry about getting yelled at? What are you so afraid of?” He spat.

“I’m not trying to lose my scholarship, Joey!” I huffed locking eyes with his slightly dilated crystal blues.

“That’s bullshit. Having an affair with your roommate’s boyfriend does not threaten your scholarship. If it did, half of the school would be gone.” He deadpans.

I look away from his face and stifle the laugh in my throat. “Not like that. Don’t you think it will cause a rift within the team? What if she tries something?”

“You really think she wants to risk her scholarship over me? I am not that important- to her. She would've already found out if she wanted me as badly as you’re making it seem. Why hasn’t she called? Checked up to see if I was actually going to the party. She’d rather believe rumors from her friends than ask me this shit; shows how much she cares.” Joe snorts running his hands through his hair.

He has a point, but since when does he make sense?

“Fine, whatever. Take me back- wait, where the fuck are we?” He smirks.

“Well, if you’re done being a jealous little princess- or fairy.” I side-eyed him, but he continues. “You said we couldn’t fuck at the party, so…”

My eyes widen. “Joe, absolutely not. In your truck? The seats don’t even recline.”

“Who told you that?” He smirks, adjusts the driver’s seat to go all the way back and flips the headrest so it connects with the seat in the back. Then he pushes the middle console back for more room in the front. I just blink at his new transformer features that were not there a week ago.

“What the fuck?”

Then he lays down. “Yup, now come sit on my face.”

“In your truck?”

“Yeah.”

“On top of your face?”

“That’s what I said.”

I kiss my teeth and try to imagine his request. “No way, we won’t fit. Joe, there’s no way to do this comfortably. Can’t we just go to your place? I’ll do that thing you like?” I wiggle my brows and rest my hand on his jean-clad knee.

He lifts himself back up with a playful smirk. “First of all, I like everything you do, so I have no idea what you’re suggesting. Second, all you have to do is sit or lay back. I’ll put you in the backseat and get on the floor if you want.”

“Why are you being so damn persistent about this?” I chuckle.

He looks down as a flush coats his face. “Joe, did you have a dream about this?”

“You left me on delivered for a week. I had dreams about a lot of things.” He hesitantly laughs while scratching his neck.

“Okay, when did you have the one of me riding your face in your truck?” I smirk, sliding myself onto his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Tuesday, right after I reclined the seat to move some equipment.” It’s Saturday.

“You’ve been thinking about this all week?!” He drew his lower lip between his teeth and looked away from my eyes as his hands gently massaged my hips.

“No, my dick has. Which is a part of me, so, yeah, I have.” I may have let out a chuckle at that.

“How was this supposed to work with the party?” I ask, very intrigued, and I can sense his hesitation.

“C’mon, tell me, " I murmur, studying his face enlightened by the shallow lights outside.

“It was technically supposed to be an ‘after I fuck you in the bathroom so everyone can hear you’ thing.” He shrugged.

I snort and rake my hands through his hair while holding his gaze. “Please tell me you put this kind of thought into your school work too.”

“Yeah-and football-it really helps.” He says in a rushed breath as his pupils dilate and his hands move to massage my ass. “So are you gonna stop yapping and sit back or what?”

I bite my lip to hold in a moan from his grip hardening. “I'm gonna try it your way first, if it doesn't work, we’re leaving.”

“I’m tearing that tiny costume off of you no matter what, so it better.” His eyes flickering between your lips and eyes.

I mirror his look then smirk. “That’s enough chit-chat. Kiss me.”

His brows raise as he pulls me closer. “Who said you were in charge here?” He whispered against my waiting lips.

I roll my eyes and reach for the door. “I could just leave.” He snatches my hand and starts kissing my wrist. My breath hitches as his lips travel up my arm to my neck, then sucks hard beneath my ear. “Joey..”

He grins against my skin and licks over the mark he definitely left there.

“Are you gonna be a good fairy and sit on my face, baby?”

༉ 3 orgasms later ༉

Joe’s cool hands caress my heated, sticky skin as I lay on his chest, recovering from an intense high. A deep chuckle wakes me from a post-high dreamscape. “What?” I mumbled, looking up at his satisfied grin.

“I think I broke your wings.”

“JOE, those took me four hours to make!” I exclaim, but it sounds more like a whine.

“Well, you weren’t exactly complaining when it happened. In fact, I think I recall you saying ‘don't stop’ over and over again while I… ” He trails off with a smirk and jerks his hips up.

“Fuck! Cut it out.” I gasped and smacked his chest. “I hate you.”

“Then get off my dick.” He chuckles.

I smirk, shifting my hips, causing him to groan and grab them. “No, I want you to suffer.”

“Or you just like being on top of me.” Then he raises his stupid eyebrows.

I scoff and climb off of him into the other seat. He has the nerve to laugh and grab my ankle. I try to yank it back, but his long fingers curl around me.

He spreads my legs, and his lips trail down my inner thighs until his face hovers-

My eyes widen, and pull him up by his hair. “What are you doing?”

He smirks. “What does it look like?” Then moves up and puts his hand next to your head, effectively trapping me between him and the door.

“Right now…

He looked like a man who’d been starving for ages when he was really just insatiable. His lips are pink, slick, and swollen after an hour of abuse to my skin. His eyes were dark, filled with lust and endless need. His skin flushed almost the same pink as his lips due to exertion, but he showed no sign of stopping. Don’t get started on his neck or shoulder and how they resemble what getting mauled by a baby bear with no teeth would look like.

“You got an answer for me, princess?” Despite his casual tone, his stare sent a shiver down my spine. I shake my head as he frees me from my thoughts. “What, cat got your tongue?”

He chuckles and dips down to my ear. “All that talk, and here you are, laid out all nice and innocent for me. But you’re not, no… You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you? Answer me, y/n.”

My breath hitches as he kisses down my neck, then wraps his hand around my throat. “You can’t, can you?” His other hand trails down my body, stopping at the bottom of my top.

“Wearing this damn costume like the teasing minx you are. Like you don’t know what you do to me… and you thought I was gonna let you walk into a frat house like this.” He scoffs, pulling down my strapless bra.

“God, I love your tits.” His mouth finds my nub, immediately lapping and kissing around it.

“Joey…”

His gaze meets mine, and he chuckles. “Oh... so, now you can speak?” His hand tightens around my throat as his lips return to mine.

“Please.” My voice muffled against his demanding lips. The kiss is harsh, his lips attacking mine with a hot, bruising force that has me gasping for air when he pulls away.

“Are you going to be a good girl now?” He growls, releasing my neck from his grasp. I nod as he sucks on my pulse point and trails his free hand down my body. “I need to hear you say it, princess. Tell me you’re gonna be a good girl, and let me have my way with you.”

As I’m about to respond, his fingers graze my sensitive nub. “Ahh Joey, please…”

“No, not until you ask nicely. Say you want me to ruin you, pretty girl.” His deep, authoritative tone caused my body to ache even more for his touch.

“Please…” I whined breathlessly. “Take me, use me, ruin me Joey…”

“I love pretty your voice is when you’re begging for me to fuck you.” He growls, sinking two fingers into my slick cunt. My moans permeate the car as I tangle my fingers in his hair while he slowly strokes my tight walls.

“Princess, how can you barely take my fingers when 15 minutes ago you were bouncing on my cock?” He laves the skin of my neck as my hips jerk up.

“And you still want more? You just can’t get enough of me, can you?” He gruffly chuckles.

“Yes! I want more… Please Joe…” I pull his head up and suck his lips into my mouth, letting him feel just how much I need him.

“Mmmm, such a good girl for me. So I’m gonna give my sweet fairy a choice.” He pecks my lips once more before leaning back up, his fingers still massaging my inner walls. “Tell my pretty girl, you want me to pick how I make you come, or do you want to?” He already knows the answer; the second I relinquished all control, I’d be weak for him.

His thumb rubs lightly on my clit, making me whine out. “You! Please Joe…”

“God, I love hearing you beg… Love when you sound so sweet, needy, whiney,” he chuckles, kissing down my breasts. “I can’t get enough of you, angel.”

He flips up my skirt and groans, watching his drenched fingers pump in and out of me. “And you always get so goddamn wet for me. I wonder what you’d do if I just…” He smirks slowly, pulling his hand away.

“No no no no… Please please please…” I grab his wrist desperately, trying to pull it back. My core clenching around nothing, the pleasure being ripped away by the hollowness. “I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you, Joe.”

He faux pouts and kisses the tears streaking down my face. Fuck, I’m pathetic.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll take good care of you.” He smirks, then lifts my legs over his shoulders. “You think I’d let this pussy go unsatisfied? You must not know me then.” He mumbles to himself before using two fingers to spread my lips.

“I’ll never get used to how pretty this pussy is, but god, do I love ruining her.” Were his last words before absolutely devouring me.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳*°:⋆ₓₒ

Another 20 minutes late, he dropped me off at my apartment and watched with a ridiculous smile as I slowly walked up two flights of stairs. Before walking down the hall to my door, something told me to check if he’d left yet. And, of course, he was still sitting in his giant truck, waving at me with my broken fairy wing.

To: American Deli💋

Asshole I can still see you! Stop it lol

Joey drive awayyyy

From: American Deli💋

I did you good huh?

Gonna be feeling me for a week!

But don’t worry, I’ll see you before that 😉

To: American Deli💋

LEAVE, i need to wash this shit out of me

From: American Deli💋

You better answer when i call you

To: American Deli💋

😋

From: American Deli💋

Want me to come up there 😏

To: American Deli💋

You already did like twice lol

From: American Deli💋

You know what I mean, this time I’ll put you to sleep

To: American Deli💋

Maybe some other time

From: American Deli💋

Bet, I’m gone.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

I had to calm down my ridiculous giggles before entering the apartment. I did not want Amaya to see me and get the wrong idea. But upon opening the door, there was a very “shocking” picture: Amaya in her Silvermist costume grabbing her car keys.

“Um hi, where are you going?” She looked up at me with wide eyes, genuinely stunned by my presence.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” She chuckles hesitantly.

I tilt my head with a pout and limp over the kitchen bar stools. “I took a spill at the party and decided it was time for me to go. I didn’t want to leave early, but shit happens. I didn’t even see Joe or the girls, so I couldn’t give him your message. Now back to you, where are you going Ms. I’m So Busy, I’m Bailing On My Friends?” I question swiftly, taking the heat off of me.

She chews her lip, analyzing the bruises on my legs that were definitely caused by a chair and not her boyfriend’s hands or truck.

“I feel so fucking bad, maybe I should stay and help you.” She offers, but I shake my head.

“Amaya, what’s going on?”

“Don’t be mad, please.” She takes a deep breath and lays her head on the granite countertop. “Ryan saw you and Joe leaving the gym one night, and she’s been convinced that y'all have been sneaking around behind my back for weeks. Tonight, she overheard someone saying you were meeting up with him at the party, so I lied to you and said I wasn’t going so I could catch you with him. I’m so sorry, girl; I’m such a terrible teammate. I knew nothing was going on between you, I mean Justin talks about you all the time, and you always come back with hickies after hanging with him. I should’ve just stuck to my gut. Joe and Justin are literally friends and teammates like us, so it makes sense that you might’ve been seen out together. I feel horrible.” She sighs at the end of her rant.

I try not to appear incredibly shocked by the scenario she concocted, but it's insane. “Wow, me and Joe?”

“I know, I know. You don’t even like white guys, no less the ones I’m dating. And I know you hate talking about your sex life because of your fear of commitment and all that, but I think you and Justin are really cute.”

Did she just say-

“I don’t have a fear of commitment.” My face deadpans while she chuckles.

“Oh, my bad, I used my psychoanalysis skills on you. I know you don’t believe in labels. But he is a really good guy.” Huh, the good guy.

“I think I’m gonna go to the party now. I should apologize to Joe for ignoring him for the past few days. He was really irritable this week, and I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“Have a few drinks for me, just kidding. But seriously, have fun, get laid.” I cringe as the words fall out my mouth, but thankfully her back was turned when I said it, so she didn’t see my face.

“Hopefully he’s not too pissed, take it easy. You can use my new bath bomb.” She smiles and then leaves the apartment. I waited a couple of minutes before letting out a sigh of relief. If she hadn’t left any sooner, she would’ve picked up on the squirming I was doing behind the counter. That’s the last time I let him come inside me without being close to a bathroom. Because proximity is definitely the problem here.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳*°:⋆ₓₒ

Joe walked into the frat house and immediately went to find his teammates. Thankfully, they weren’t far from the entrance and called him over. Justin and Ja'Marr also adorned green shirts and khakis, their valid attempt at portraying Clank and Bobble, the friends of Tinker Bell. Justin showed some effort and found glasses resembling Clank's in the Tinker Bell movies.

“Well, look who it is,” Ja’Marr smirked, looking over the quarterback for any evidence to incriminate him.

“Fuck off, I already checked. There’s nothing that you can see right now.” He said almost bashfully, then peeled the collar of his shirt to show them exactly where he was marked up. Justin just shook his head.

“Yall are so stupid. Why don’t you just get together already? I can’t get bitches if everyone thinks I’m fucking the MVP of the women’s basketball team.” He scoffs.

“You don’t think I want that?” Joe rolls his eyes. “She’s set on making it big in the WNBA before settling for anyone, and I don’t blame her. Everyone knows she’s going to be in the first round, maybe even first pick. I just need you to lay low for now.”

“Lay low, how?” Ja’Marr asks for his fellow wide receiver.

“Amaya’s on her way to pick a fight with me, so I was never with Y/n. In fact, Jefferson saw her fall off a stool in the dining room and get banged up. She never saw me, and I got here a little after she left, got it?”

The two men look at him incredulously.

“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“She’s not going for that shit.”

“She already did, Y/n caught her in a lie and made her fold. All we gotta do is let her feel the remorse, then it’s over.” Just as Joe finishes, Amaya walks in the door.

Justin’s brows furrow. “Wait what do you mean, then it’s over?”

Joe puts on his best unbothered look as Amaya approaches him. “Hey baby.” She smiles.

“Hi.”

“Hi guys.” She waves to the wide receivers. “Um Justin, did you bring Y/n home? I know she said she fell off something, but I know there was more to that limp and her tiara was missing.” She chuckles.

Justin awkwardly smiles while a smirk grows on Ja’Marr’s face. “I knew y’all were being nasty upstairs, ain’t no way she was that clumsy.”

“You know me.” Joe’s spine goes rigid as Justin joins in the joke. “We like to get it in wherever we can.”

“Everything makes so much sense now, including why she came back early smelling like sex.” Amaya adds.

“Oh yea, she just wanted to go home after that. I offered to help her in, but you know she is, just crazy independent.”

Ja’Marr pats his friend on the back. “But the best part was when you gave your costume to Joe because he showed up without a costume.” He says smirking at the taller guy.

Joe grits his teeth and clenches his jaw. “You gave me the shirt you fucked her in to wear all night?” Playing along as best as he could.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.” Justin smirks.

Amaya butted in before they could keep going at each other. “Joe, can I talk to you?”

He shrugs and leads her away from the boys. “What’s up?”

“I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend lately, and I definitely haven't had the best judgment as of today-

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Amaya looks down and mumbles. “I thought you were cheating on me.”

“Wow, so you pretend to be single for a week, and I’m the one with the allegations.”

“I let my friends get in my head Joey, I know you would never do that to me.” Then he lets out a chuckle. “Joey, come on. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She pouts.

“Don’t worry about it, this thing between us was getting old anyway.”

“Joey! No I apologized, this is when we leave and go have great makeup sex.” She whined tugging on his shirt.

He pushes her hands off of him and grimaces. “Ooo, I don’t know if the sex has ever been good. But you can keep your apology, maybe if you hadn’t ghosted me for a week your friends wouldn’t have been right.”

Her eyes widen and lips part. “What do you mean? What are you talking about? What’s happening!”

“Maya, why are you so fucking slow? You really think you were the only one. Everything we did was shit- I’d leave your place and go straight to the gym.” He smirks with a wink.

“You cheated on me?”

“And now I’m breaking up with you.” He says as if it's nothing.

“Why would you do this to me?” Her eyes brim with tears.

“Why are you being so goddamn dense? You weren’t enough. Now go cry about it somewhere else.”

“How could you!”

He bites his lip to hide his grin, “players gonna play, and you’re not good at the game.” Then he started to walk off.

“WHO WAS IT?”

His mouth curls up, “I don’t kiss and tell.” Then he winks and shuts the door behind him.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳*°:⋆ₓₒ

* 2 new unread messages *

I had just gotten into bed when my phone went off. After Amaya left, the rest of my night calmed down significantly. I had a luxurious bath, devoured a 10-piece wing, and read a book on the couch, which led me here—sitting in bed staring at the two texts on my lock screen. Amaya’s was first, and Joe’s text came seconds later, but both brought worrisome thoughts.

I decide to open Joe’s first.

From: American Deli💋

Thanks for making me go to that party. I had lots of fun😉

“Oh no.” He didn’t do what I think he did, right? There’s no way.

Then, opened my roommate's message.

From: AmayaBaller

This night sucks, wanna watch Brotherly Love🥺

“Fuck he did. That motherfucker.”

To: American Deli💋

What the hell is wrong with you?

I told you NOT to break up with her dumbass!

From: American Deli💋

You snooze you lose.

How’s that limp btw 😏

To: American Deli💋

See you at playoffs asshole😒

From: American Deli💋

You’re not doing this again

Read

BABY

Read

Y/N COME ON

Delivered

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Why does he have the be the biggest fucking player? Why do I like him? Wait- no. I don’t like him, he’s a good fuck. One I'm giving up for a few weeks, which will be missed. But I don’t feel anything too heavy for him. He’s a dick. It's as simple as that.

I didn’t have to respond to Amaya’s text because she decided at that moment to walk into my room and slump on my Queen Sized Bed.

“Hey, I saw your text. Wanna talk about it?” I ask as she begins to sob into my comforter.

“Why wasn’t I enough for him? It’s not my fault he was my first. He could’ve taught me stuff or told me to watch porn to get better!”

“Maya, he’s a man- an ungrateful, selfish, cocky, self-absorbed-” she picks her head up with both brows raised, but in a somewhat grateful way. “He’s a heartbreaker. A player.”

She scoffs and climbs into the spot next to you. “Tell me about it. He won’t even tell me who it was.” She says, laying her head on my shoulder.

“I wish he loved me like Justin loves you.” Alarming sounds start going off.

“Let’s not talk about that right now. Didn’t you wanna watch a movie?” I remind her just as my phone starts uncontrollably buzzing. Great, I knew I should’ve blocked his ass.

“Not anymore; Justin’s probably here to take you to pound town again. He told me y'all hooked up tonight, not that I needed it confirmed after that limp and messy mascara.” She giggles, reaching for my phone. My eyes widen as she grabs it before I can get my arm from under her.

“Oh my god, he’s in your phone under American Deli!” Her giggles turn boisterous. “I’m glad there’s at least a kiss emoji next to his name. Did you really have to-” As she stops a questionable look develops on her face.

“What?”

“Jetta2Smooth, just texted you.” Looks like the whole crew plotting my downfall tonight.

“If Justin is Jetta2, who is American Deli?” She puts the phone down and turns to me. I have to actively try not to lose eye contact with her while putting together a logical reason for the contact.

“I told you he wasn’t my boyfriend.” I mumble, taking the phone. At least it’s true.

“You’re using him? But he’s the nicest guy on this campus, maybe in the city! What the hell Y/n.” She crosses her arms.

“Maya, come on. We’re in college, we’re about to have the best season of our lives. I don’t wanna be tied down-

“You don’t want to be committed!” Here she goes again with the damn commitment issues.

“Amaya. My dream is almost here! When he goes to NFL, what’s gonna happen? We date, then drafted to opposite sides of the country? I don’t want that. Even worse, what if he gets me pregnant.”

“Oh my god, long-distance relationships can work! Maybe have protected sex for once! These are all just excuses because you don’t want to face your problems head-on! You love him but are too scared to accept that fact.”

“I don’t love Jo-ustin!”

“I don’t believe you. Whoever American Deli is, I hope he knows he keeping you away from a great guy. Justin deserves better than a liar.” She gets off the bed then scoffs, “Oh my god, you’re just like Joe.”

I immediately shake my head, a gritty distasteful sap coating my mouth. “I’m nothing like him.”

“Yeah, like you said, he’s a player too.” She slams the door behind her, leaving me with my thoughts.

The only player I am is a basketball player, it’s why I’m at this school and why I know all these people. Joe plays with people’s feelings, I tell them what I want head-on. She’s just upset he did the same thing to her that he did every other bitch at this school. Except for- but we don’t feel that way about each other. We can’t.

There’s no way I’m in love with Joe Burrow. None.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: y'all heard her, absolutely no way. just like there's absolutely no way I'm making a part 2 of this fic 🤫 as always, like, reblog and comment your favorite line ♡

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bbokarimenu · 2 months ago

Text

Little Sunshine

pairing: idol dad Lee Felix x fem reader!

genre: fluff

warnings: none

an: Felix’s soft, loving energy inspired this wholesome family moment. I hope you enjoyed! ❤️

Masterlist

The warm morning sun streamed through the curtains as the gentle hum of life outside our apartment created a serene backdrop. I stirred in bed, feeling the comforting weight of Felix’s arm draped over me. His soft breathing was rhythmic and peaceful, a rare sight considering his packed schedule.

In the adjacent room, a tiny giggle broke the silence, followed by a series of babbling sounds. I smiled to myself, already knowing what was about to happen. Sure enough, the baby monitor crackled to life with our daughter’s voice.

“Dada! Mama!”

Felix stirred beside me, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at me with his signature sleepy smile, the one that always melted my heart. “Good morning, love.”

“Morning,” I whispered, leaning over to kiss his forehead.

Our daughter’s babbling grew louder, interspersed with little knocks on her crib railing. Felix chuckled. “Looks like our little sunshine is ready to start the day.”

“She’s definitely your daughter,” I teased. “So full of energy, even in the morning.”

Felix sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Well, let’s not keep her waiting.” He stood and stretched, his oversized hoodie falling past his hips, making him look adorably domestic.

As we walked into the nursery, our daughter, Ellie, bounced in her crib, her chubby hands reaching out for Felix. “Dada!”

“There’s my girl!” Felix cooed, scooping her up and peppering her face with kisses. Her laughter was infectious, filling the room with pure joy.

Breakfast was a chaotic symphony of Ellie’s excited squeals, Felix’s playful antics, and the clinking of plates. Felix had insisted on making pancakes, his specialty.

“Look, Ellie,” he said, holding up a pancake shaped like a star. “Daddy made you a star, just like you are!”

Ellie clapped her hands, her tiny face lighting up. “Star!”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re spoiling her, Felix.”

“She deserves it,” he said, winking at me before turning back to flip another pancake.

As we sat at the table, Ellie happily munched on her pancake while Felix leaned over, feeding me bites of his own creation.

“Good?” he asked, his freckles dancing as he grinned.

“Delicious,” I replied, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Ellie watched us with wide eyes before mimicking the gesture, leaning over to plant a wet kiss on Felix’s cheek. “Dada!”

Felix laughed, his heart visibly melting. “You’re too cute, Ellie. You’re going to make Daddy cry.”

The day was filled with simple joys: a trip to the park where Ellie toddled around, holding tightly to Felix’s hand, and an impromptu picnic where Felix showed Ellie how to pick flowers.

As the afternoon sun began to dip, we returned home, exhausted but happy. Ellie was clinging to Felix, her tiny head resting on his shoulder as she fought to stay awake.

“Looks like someone’s ready for a nap,” I said, smiling at the sight.

Felix nodded, his voice soft. “She’s getting heavier, isn’t she? Our little girl is growing up too fast.”

I placed a hand on his arm. “She’s still our baby, Felix. She always will be.”

After putting Ellie down for her nap, Felix and I found ourselves on the couch, tangled together under a cozy blanket. The TV played softly in the background, but neither of us paid much attention.

“Thank you,” I said, breaking the comfortable silence.

He looked at me, confused. “For what?”

“For being such an amazing dad,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I know your schedule is crazy, and you’re always so busy, but you still make time for us. For her.”

Felix’s eyes softened, and he reached out to cup my face. “You and Ellie are my everything,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “No matter how busy I get, you two will always come first.”

I leaned into his touch, tears threatening to spill. “I love you, Felix.”

He pulled me closer, his lips brushing against mine in a tender kiss. “I love you more.”

Later that evening, as we prepared for bed, Felix sat on the floor of Ellie’s nursery, softly humming a lullaby while she clung to his finger. Her eyelids drooped, and I leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene with a full heart.

He caught me watching and smiled. “Caught me serenading our little princess?”

“She’s lucky to have you,” I said, stepping into the room and sitting beside him.

“We’re lucky to have her,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from Ellie’s face.

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet love of our little family, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Life with Felix wasn’t always easy, but it was always full of love.

And that was more than enough.

#kpop imagines #stray kids #lee felix #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bangchan imagines #lee felix fluff #lee felix smut

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trulyhblue · 1 year ago

Text

Communication

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Dutch! Reader Blurb

Warnings: fluff, REALLY bad translated Dutch, language barrier.

Masterlist

___________________

Moving from your childhood club AFC Ajax was the hardest change of your life, but the easiest choice of your career.

You signed your first professional contract with them when you were fifteen, making your club debut in the same year. After six months of fitting into the squad, and having the opportunity to play in the Champions League as a substitute, you were asked to play for your first international camp against New Zealand, where you came away with a 2-1 win. From then, you have continued to be chosen for the National Team’s 23-player squad, continuously representing them as both a starter and a sub.

You were known for your agility, speed, and footwork, both on the ball and against both attacking and defending players. Being a midfielder, your job to maintain possession and create chances felt like a breeze to you, and your pure, sheer talent landed you with many of the most assists for the past three years.

Despite the friends you made at Ajax, you knew that opportunities to strengthen your player profile and widen your skills across the world were a dream of yours. You were a huge fan of Arsenal growing up, your parents taking you to games when they could.

When the opportunity arose to represent your country at the 2023 Women’s World Cup, you don't remember doing anything but crying for the days following your selection. You played your heart out that whole tournament. And while you didn't make it to the Semis, you walked away with a once-in-a-lifetime experience, with clubs worldwide wanting you as a part of their team.

Moving to Arsenal was a no-brainer. Not only were you a massive fan of the name itself, but they were among the best players in the world. You knew Victoria and Viv from the Oranje Leeuwinnens, and you had been told that you’d move in with Vic for the first couple of months upon your arrival, so the weight of the move felt lighter than many anticipated. You were roommates with Vic during Camps. But, in contrast to your Netherlands teammates, you didn't know an inch of English.

Well, other than the obvious words like Hello, Good Morning, and Goodbye, you were hopeless.

So, when you arrived on your first day of training alongside Victoria, you couldn't help but cringe at what was about to unfold.

“Ze weten dat je geen Engels spreekt, y/n.” They know you don't speak English. She spoke, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into her chest. “Ze zijn allemaal erg aardig.” They are all very nice.

You didn't reply, choosing to keep your arm around Victoria’s waist, your eyes filtering over each of the girls.

“Ah, hier is ze!” Ah, here she is. Viv said, walking out from beside Beth Mead, jogging towards you, eloping you into a crushing hug.

“Ik heb je gemist, y/n, hoe gaat het met je?” I’ve missed you, y/n. How have you been? She asked, holding onto your shoulders as she kissed the top of your head. The London chill meant that you were wearing a black long-sleeve under your shirt, its hem being detained in your hands. The chill of the air nipped your cheeks. The Netherlands were cold, but so was London.

“Hetzelfde. Ik ben goed.” Same. I'm good. You let out meekly, noticing a bouncy Beth Mead waddle over to the three of you, holding her hand out for you to shake. You had played against Beth before, and of course, you knew her from Viv, so you made sure to look her in the eye when you shook her hand.

“Hi!” She sounded cheerfully, keeping a ball at her feet. “I’m Beth!”

“Y/n.” You replied, trying to reciprocate her delight with a small smile. “I'm Y/n.”

Your eyes widened slightly when a ball came flying at the four of you, causing you all to yelp out and duck before it hit anyone. Everyone looked in the direction the ball had come from, a strong, Irish and Australian accent on cue to yell out.

“Sorry!” The duo cringed, running over to retrieve the ball with a grimace.

“Katie kicked it.” The Australian one said, but you didn't understand. You saw the pained expression on her face, and how the Irish woman, who you knew as Katie, glared at her in shock.

“It was a joint effort, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, fuck off, no it wasn't—”

“Ze vechten.” They’re fighting. Victoria muttered to you, making you laugh.

“Ik dacht.” I figured.

The two girls were silenced after another woman came marching up to the growing group, looking at you with a stern expression before softening the crease between her eyebrows. You knew she was Kim Little by her motherly stare.

Next to her was Jennifer Beattie, an Arsenal Defender. She had her arms crossed around her chest, shaking her head in false disapproval before strolling over to you, calling out to Jonas, whom you had met when you discussed your contract.

You felt like crawling into a hole and dying, the whole occasion of being introduced to everyone made your skin crawl. Of course, no one necessarily made you feel out of place, but you refused to let Victoria’s arm go throughout the whole ordeal. You knew most of the players due to their prominence in women’s football. Most of these women set the scene for how the sport is seen today, and the mere thought of them knowing who you were was surreal.

The two girls that were arguing before, Caitlin Foord and Katie McCabe were the first to come up to you. Victoria told you they were sorry, and you shook your head and brushed the apology off, not really knowing how to say the right words in English.

Steph Catley and Leah Williamson came up to you next, saying very few yet simple words before hugging you and wishing you luck. Alessia Russo was next, and you couldn't help but giggle as her cheeks went red as she started to speak.

“Erm— sorry, hold on.” The striker looked at Pelova, who prodded her on with her hands. Russo looked back at you, trying hard to remember what she wanted to say.

“Leuk… Leuk je te ontmoeten. Erm- sorry. Ik hoop… Ik hoop dat je geniet… van… Londen.” It’s nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy London. You knew from her strained expression that she was well aware of how much she butchered the language with her English accent, but you pursed your lips together and smiled gratefully. The thought was genuine.

“Thank you.” You muttered, your slim vocabulary in English coming in handy. “It’s… nice to meet you, too.”

Alessia looked to be most accomplished with herself, asking Victoria a question before she was cut off by Jonas’ booming voice.

You waited, trying your hardest to latch onto an idea of what he was saying, but gave up when you felt someone behind you pulling you away from Vic’s side, leading towards the other end of the pitch.

When you faced the girl in front of you, she must've realised that she had startled you, since her eyes widened at your expression.

She was short, but your height, with a scrunchie in her hair and a training jumper over her Jersey. You couldn't count the hundreds of freckles that patterned her face, her doe-like Brown eyes looking at you with a mix of shock and awe.

“Hello, my name’s Kyra. Steph told me your name is Y/n… Jonas said that we are partners, so you can start if you want.”

You didn't say anything. You wish you could, but the words that left her lips were foreign. You felt a flush run across your face, humiliation at your lack of words hitching your breath. You must've looked so stupid since the girl waited for you to reply. Everyone was set off into pairs, a ball adorned between each of them.

The girl in front of you had the ball, picking it up and fidgeting with it in her hands. You stared at each other in silence, neither of you particularly knowing what to do. It wasn't until the girl put the ball to her feet, kicking it towards you, that you communicated in some way.

Instead of talking, the girl showed you the drills, pretending to be Jonas by overexaggerating her actions by marching around, waving her hands vigorously, and using the ball to make you laugh at her ridiculous impression of your Manager.

Her number was thirty-two, yours was thirty-three, and somehow it made you feel more of a connection with her. She was very patient if you didn't understand what you were doing the first time around, and you began to wonder if number thirty-two was trying hard not to talk just for the fun of it.

She never made you feel as if you were annoying her with the lack of audible contact, in fact, she looked to find it a fun game between the pair of you.

No one chose to interrupt or try and sever the consecutive numbers, finding Kyra’s unusual silence amicable in contrast to her typical outgoing self. Both Viv and Vic were eyeing you from where they stood with their respective partners, hesitant about the choice of Kyra as your partner, as you two were very different personalities. But after a while, the two Dutch women stopped looking to see if you were okay, hearing your faint giggles from the view of a giddy Kyra enough to reassure them.

Because of this, training went by quickly for everyone. Today was a pretty easy session, similar to the ones you knew from back home. You knew you were wrapping up when Kyra started juggling the ball, singing a loud tune before passing it over to you.

You moved your feet up and down as you juggled the ball from one foot to the other. Kyra giggled when she missed the ball you passed to her, tripping over her own feet and rolling around on the floor, clutching her stomach in laughter. You did this for a while, before Kyra dragged you across the field and to the stack of drink bottles.

You didn't really know where you were going, so you let Kyra take your hand and lead the way, walking behind her as you passed the bike rack and towards the indoor fields.

You didn't begin to doubt Kyra until you had pretty much walked the length of the training centre, where you had long discarded the fields you were once training on.

“Kyra.” You ushered, making the Australian stop in her tracks at the sound of your voice. She pivoted on her heel, staring at you absolutely gobsmacked.

You looked around, trying to find the words to get across what you wanted to say.

“Say it in Dutch,” Kyra answered, catching a glimpse of your reticence.

You thought to yourself for a second before nodding. “Waar gaan we heen?”

Kyra’s eyes widened, obviously not comprehending a word you said. She looked around, trying to find a solution.

She grabbed your hand again and led you down another corridor, pushing past a few doors, weaving through the never-ending maze of rooms before finally making your way back to the locker rooms, where Vic had taken you to drop off your possessions before training.

Kyra rushed to pick up her phone, waddling over to you, typing away vigorously and smiling up at you when a voice rang from the device.

“Ik kom uit Australië.” I'm from Australia. The voice spoke.

You laughed, taking the phone from the girl’s hands and writing down a reply.

“I know. I can tell by your funny accent.”

Kyra gasped, snatching the phone off you and furiously writing down a retort. You couldn't help but gape at her fondly, biting your lip at the sight of her concentration.

“Mijn accent is niet grappig, mijn grappen wel.” My accent is not funny, my jokes are. The phone sounded.

Before you could type out your own reply, Kyra went back to typing, but instead of letting the audio play, she squinted down at the translated sentence.

“Ik zou je… veel grappen kunnen… vertellen, weet je? Zou je ze graag… willen… horen?” I could tell you heaps of jokes, you know? Would you like to hear them?

For some reason, the Dutch that left the Australian’s lips left you gushing, nodding your head up and down as you grabbed her phone.

When you translated the sentence you had written down, looking down at the words in utter confusion, you sighed. Kyra was definitely no expert in your language, but you were just downright pathetic in hers.

She must've noticed your dismay since she looked over your shoulder, pointing at the first word. “Yes… but do you… have time... to tell… them all?”

She waited for you to sound out each word, humming and nodding in recognition when you repeated the sounds.

She smiled at you, taking her phone. You waited for the audio to play back to you. Kyra’s smirk only grew when she handed her phone back to you, the Contact App up on her phone — your name typed in and phone number blank.

You laughed, and she did too.

You could get use to this communication.

(just pretend it's you)

arsenalwfc : Cooney-Cross showing Y/L/N the ropes before our big clash on Sunday!

Comments:

kyracooneyx — best partner‼️ Laten we gaan gunners (let's go)

^ yourusername — 💗💗

^ user2 — THE DUTCH 😭😭😭

^ user3 — sleeping on the highway tonight, they're so cute 💔

User7 — the eyes chica 😍😍

katie_mccabe11 — quietest training session yet LOVE YOU Y/N

^ kyracooneyx — um rude 😡

vivannemiedema — Where did you two go after training?!

^ kyracooneyx — um, home? 🥰

^ victoriapelova — HAHAHAHA

kimlittle10 — welcome Y/N ❤️

^ yourusername — 💗

User1 — the duo we never knew we needed 🙌🏼🙌🏼

*liked by kyracooneyx

bethmead_ — happy to have you here Y/n!!!!

^ yourusername — Thank you ❤️

^ kyracooneyx — what about me?

^ caitlinfoord — what about you? 🤣

^ user4 — HAVSJDVSJSHSJS I'm dying

User5 — Y/n doesn't speak English, how did they even talk? Lol

^ user6 — Viv and Vic are there. I'm sure she was fine.

User7 — she's not even that good, at this point they're just getting anyone.

^ kyracooneyx — womp womp

* liked by yourusername

_____________

Number Thirty-Three 💗

You : what does ‘womp womp’ mean?

Ky : Niets, net als het. Xx Nothing, just like it. Xx

__________

#kyra cooney cross #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal x reader #katie mccabe x reader #caitlin foord #kim little #leah williamson #vivianne miedema #beth mead #woso community #woso fanfics #fluff

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polaroidpascal · 10 months ago

Text

let me || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : after two weeks of frankie coming home knocking on death’s door from exhaustion, you decide to give him a break.

tags : fluff !!, no use of y/n, you taking care of frankie, very small nods to sex, undressing, showering together, cuddling, short and sweet glimpse into domestic life with frankie 🥹

WC : ~1.8k

a/n : i’ve never written pure fluff before, but the frankie brainrot has reached an all-time high and i desperately need to take care of this man. hope you like this little slice of domestic life with frankie 🫶 (not beta read or proofread much, just psa!)

You’re cozied up on your recliner reading a book in the soft light from your lamp when Frankie finally comes home from work.

He opens the door gently, tiredly. He never knows if you’re going to be asleep or not, so he errs on the side of caution just in case. Plus, he’s too exhausted to make more noise anyway.

You watch him from the corner as he sets down his keys. They clink against the ceramic dish that he made for you forever ago after you had moved in together. He sets down his backpack opting to unpack it tomorrow and hangs up his hat, running his hand and fingers through his curls with a long, tired sigh before he kicks off his boots.

He turns around to see you in your pajamas wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, book in hand, the lamp illuminating you from behind like an angel descending from heaven.

No amount of exhaustion can keep the tired smile from blooming across his face. “Hey, baby,” he says, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck to soothe the sore muscles there.

“Hi, love,” you say back sweetly. “How was work?”

He answers with another sigh and tired eyes, his smile fading just a bit remembering the absolutely packed couple of weeks he’s had. “It was alright, just tired.”

Frankie has come home beyond exhausted every day for the past two weeks. The first few nights, you were already asleep by the time he came home, unable to keep your eyes open any longer to wait for him. You had sent him a text telling him to wake you up when he got home, but of course your sweet boyfriend would never do that, not when you look so peaceful in your sleep.

One night, you happened to be awake when he came home, much to his surprise. He tried to play off how drained he was, bringing you in for a hug that swallowed you whole in his broad figure, whisking you off to your bedroom to try and ignore his exhaustion. But you could see it in his eyes from the moment he walked in that he was barely hanging on, and he definitely slept hard that night.

After that, you made sure you were up every night long enough to catch him walking through the door, picking up a new novel series to pass the time while you waited.

You rise from the recliner and shuffle over to Frankie in your fuzzy socks and his t-shirt loosely fitting your frame, the wide neckline exposing your collarbones. “You look tired, Frankie. And I’m not saying that in a mean way.”

He takes you in his arms and kisses the top of your head breathing another sigh, like he’s relearning how to breathe after being so busy all day. “I know, baby.”

You stay wrapped in each other's arms for a minute, Frankie’s head resting atop your own. His dead weight grows each second that passes and you let him stay until you can’t hold him up anymore. You rub and pat his back gently before you whisper, “Why don’t we go take a shower, hm?” looking up when he lifts his head again.

He looks back at you with his big, brown, pouty eyes and mumbles, “But you’re already in your pajamas…”

“I know,” you nod, reaching your hand up to cup his cheek and glancing across his face at his tired and beautiful features. “You’re always taking care of me. Can you let me take care of you this time?”

His eyes are still pouting and nearly half closed now as he pauses, then gently nods, letting you lead him to your bedroom.

He stands in the middle of the room reaching down to the hem of his shirt to undress but your hands stop him. He looks at you confused.

“Let me,” you say. He has no protests.

He watches you lift his shirt exposing his stomach and chest, raising his arms so you can slip it over his head. You toss it to the side while Frankie reaches down to take his socks off. Your hands move down to his belt, slipping it out of the loops of his jeans. It clinks to the floor and you unbutton his pants, slipping them down with his underwear. He watches you the whole time, stepping out when you reach the bottom before you stand up again.

When you meet his gaze, the love radiating from his eyes almost makes your heart burst from your chest. You smile gently at him, reaching up to give him a soft kiss before leading him to the shower.

You run the water warm, more on the hot side, and start to undress yourself. Frankie watches you strip, the way your shoulder blades move as you pull your shirt over your head and unhook your bra. The way your spine flexes as you reach down to pull your pants off and shimmy out of them. How angelically perfect the curves of your body look.

You turn around to look at him and see tears welling in his eyes.

Immediately, your heart drops and you rush to cup his face in your hands. “Oh, Frankie, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing, I just…” He looks your face up and down examining all the features he finds so beautiful and takes a breath. “I love you so much,” he says, the end of his sentence getting quiet, tapering off choked in emotion.

You stare at the gorgeous boy in front of you, exhausted from his hard work, so full of emotion that he’s brought to tears, and you feel your own eyes start to sting. All you can do is hug him and bury your face into his chest, his warm, soft skin pressed against you as your arms clasp around him. “I love you too, Frankie.”

You feel his breath get a little quicker as he tries to keep himself in check, the fight against his tears getting harder and harder. You pull back and wipe away a few strays that started rolling down his cheeks before pulling him into the shower.

You wash Frankie head to toe helping him clean the day off. He leans down some so you can wash his hair, making sure to give his scalp a little massage while you suds up his curls. His eyes close and he softly hums as your fingers card through each strand. He loves when you play with his hair.

You gently wash his back, watching the soap slowly roll down his body as you rub circles into his skin. The muscles look tight, flexing some just with the slow breaths he’s taking. You reach up and dig your thumbs into the visible knots you see near the base of his neck where he was rubbing before. His head drops forward a bit, a soft groan leaving his lips at the relief.

You turn him around and wash his chest, watching the soapy water cascade down his pecs and stomach.

He watches you as best he can, wanting to savor every second, and he can’t help but close his eyes at the soothing feeling of the warm water flowing across his skin… the soap erasing the dirt from the day… and most importantly of all, your feather-light, loving touch behind every movement.

You rinse his chest a little and give him a soft kiss to his sternum, handing him the sponge to wash the rest of his body while you wash your own.

He silently watches you move, feeling himself get emotional again thinking about how lucky he feels to have you. That you’d do this for him. That you care so much about him. The love in his heart threatens to burst at the seams.

When you’re both done, Frankie grabs your hips and carefully spins you around before leaning down for a kiss. A kiss that’s worth a million words all condensed into one little action. A kiss that screams I love you, endlessly and eternally.

You stay under the shower head, lips locked with the silent words of affection being exchanged. You only think to get out when you feel the water starting to run cold.

When you get out, you loosely wrap a towel around yourself before grabbing another to dry off Frankie. You rub his hair and his face, draping it around his shoulders and tip-toeing up to kiss his nose before you finish drying yourself off.

You slip back into your pajamas and Frankie puts on his sweatpants before you both climb into bed together. Frankie immediately plops down on his side of the bed, lying on his back and draping his arms over his eyes as he sighs deep, finally comfortable after the long, long day he’s had.

He feels you crawl into bed with him, your weight shifting the mattress around him as you climb on top of him, legs straddled over his sides.

He moves his arms to look up at you staring at his chest tracing circles onto his skin. His hands rest on the tops of your thighs and he rests his head back on his pillow, but you swear you can feel his entire energy shift.

“You okay?” you ask, resting your palms on his skin.

“I…” he starts, looking up at you with sad eyes. “I love you so much, you know that… I’m just… I’m really tired, baby. I don’t know if I can—“

“Frankie,” you cut him off. “I’m not in the mood either.”

He looks at you with his pouty doe eyes again. “You’re not?”

“No,” you assure him. “I just wanted to look at you. How pretty you are. How lucky I am to have you.”

Frankie’s chest gets tight, the tears stinging in his eyes again as he wonders what he could have possibly done to deserve someone like you. Who loves him unconditionally. Who takes care of him so tenderly. Who is straddled on top of him just because she wants to look at him.

Before you can catch his eyes getting redder, he pulls you down to lay by his side, cradling you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. “It’s me who’s lucky to have you, amor.”

You hum and settle into his embrace, inhaling his clean scent and relaxing against his soft skin. Just as you’re starting to drift off, you hear a faint mumble, “Thank you.”

And you don’t even need to respond. You just press your body closer somehow, planting a kiss to his chin before nuzzling into his neck.

And it’s the only answer Frankie needs.

#francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

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bigsoggyboots · 10 days ago

Text

Steal Your Warmth

summary: Viktor tells a story of one of their inside jokes to Jayce under a snowy night.

☆

cw: minor mentions of drinking, bruises, screaming, and violence.

☆

random disclaimer: This is a cross-posted fic that's up on my AO3 @calamitykills where more of my content is. There's also Daz Games and Hozier references in this lol.

Moonlight poured in from the window, candlelight sheltered the room, and two cups of hot chocolate waited at the nightstand. Viktor stared outside, a smile etched comfortably on his face. He liked it when it snowed in Piltover; it was always a beautiful sight. And with the room semi-dark, it made the world seem like it stopped.

White covered all the high building tops and small alleys, filling Piltover's streets with crowds of children playing in the snow. Some made snow angels, others built snowmen, and the really fun kids began intense snow ball fights.

Viktor snorted watching a fat kid fall flat at a snowball being chucked straight to the face by a girl two times smaller than him.

Then entered Jayce. He came in without Viktor noticing, laughing at the same sight his partner was. “That looked like that hurt.”

“That's how you know the game's intense, Jayce.” Jayce sat himself on the bed, laughing more hearing Viktor's choice of words. “See, that little boy has been targeting that girl ever since the game started. At any and every moment. And now, with the way I see it, I think the little girl's patience has boiled over.”

Just then, that same girl began chasing the fat boy around punting him with her pile of snowballs.

Jayce and Viktor watched, faces scrunching at each painful throw. Both inventors were immersed in this outdoor game. “Seems like you were right..” Jayce muttered watching the game grow more hell-ish.

“Doubting me, are you?” Viktor scoffed dramatically. “I thought there were two smart inventors here..”

Jayce didn't bother to reply, only rolling his eyes at the matter, as he laid himself on top of Viktor.

Viktor recognized this feeling; this comfort. He hadn't torn his eyes away from the window but simply knew by the feeling that it was Jayces body greeting him.

His partner's warmth encompassed him and the gentle press of Jayce's weight on his own drew him deeper in the embrace. Viktor's cold body was warming up due to it. It had been a while since they've been like this. Jayce rested his head on Viktor's collarbone, a small groan leaving him.

Viktor sighed, keeping his hands at his side. “Have you come to steal my warmth, Jayce?”

“I should've seen this coming.”

Viktor let out a content hum. Loving their little inside joke, he continued on. “I must tell you the story now-”

“Do you have to?”

“I must.”

“Alright, alright.” Jayce kissed Viktors hand, tilting his head up so he could meet Viktor's eyes. “Go ahead, tell me the-”

A blood-curdling scream filled the room, following the sound of a window smashing. When Jayce and Viktor shot his head towards the sound, they saw the little girl and boy littered with bruises and a snowball shaped hole in someone's window.

Jayce immediately got up and shut the curtains.

Viktor hummed, a devious smirk. “There goes Mummy's mortgage..” He whispered.

“Viktor, no. Just tell the story.”

With a dramatic roll of the eyes Viktor started talking, “Once upon a time, not too long ago, there was a drunk Jayce..”

☆

“Viktor.”

A head turned towards the door, uninterested and unamused.

“Jayce.”

Jayce looked confused. Why is he so upset? He just got home.

Viktor watched his partner stumble to him. Inebriated, tired, and with a mind clearly hazed. Jayce flopped along until he sat himself on the bed and then wiggled his way to Viktor.

“And what do you think you're doing?” Viktor asked.

The giant plopped on top of him, nuzzling his head in his partner's neck ever so delightfully. “Stealing your warmth.”

The exhale that left the two was purely carnal. Noises that reminded them of what united them most. And while one was embarrassed by what he'd just done, the other felt a thousand unknown worries dissipate.

To shift his attention away from the heat rising in his face, Viktor joked about what Jayce said before. “And to what warmth is there to steal?”

“The warmth of your blush,” His partner lifted his head further, his nose rubbing Viktor's skin as he kissed his cheek. “The color in your cheeks here is where it's best.”

“I..” A crack held where his voice fell flat. He was right. The only time his body felt a normal temperature was intimate moments like this. So he clinged to it. His arm wrapped around him that day unlike no other. And he let himself smile and hold Jayce there a while.

“..I'll tell jokes about this, you know.” Viktor said, running his fingers along the hairs on the back of Jayce's neck.

“Of the time I crawled back to you?”

“Yes, of the time you crawled back to me.”

☆

They laid next to one another now, in much of the same position as the story. Only now it was flipped. Viktor laid against Jayces chest, head on his pectoral, ending the story with a small hand bow.

Jayce smiled at that. “I'm amazed at how you still tell this in perfect detail.”

Mock confidence held Viktor's tone as he met Jayce’s eyes. “It's our joke. Why shouldn't I remember the way it was?”

“Well, I'm amazed at how you remember everything really. How you can simply piece together and story tell like that. It's a great skill.” As much as Jayce dished out compliments, it made Viktor feel sporadic all the same. He always felt clueless after; then those golden eyes would meet his and those eyes ached his yearning heart.

Viktor's heart skipped a beat and he already knew why. “I must get you to stop looking at me like that.” He pinched his nose bridge whilst he grumbled his words.

Jayces eyebrows furrowed together. “Like what?”

“A lost puppy.”

“That's..” Confusion settled over Jayce's face. He didn't know whether it was an insult or a compliment. “new.”

Viktor huffed, “Don't get comfortable Jayce, it'll be a look that'll stay in the past.” his eyes down at his partner's hands.

“And why do you want it gone?” Jayce's eyes followed Viktor's and settled there too.

Slowly, Viktor initiated. Pale fingers intertwined brown ones, their body temperatures mingling more than before. Jayce watched, noting Viktor's own temperature increase. “So you can feel my warmth another day.”

Jayce chuckled; “Oh God don't phrase it like that-” his partner sounded like something cruel was upon them. In reassurance, Jayce kissed Viktor's forehead. “I'll go easy next time.”

Viktor closed his eyes once Jayce had pulled him in closer. Sleeping on a bed every once in a while is nice. “Yes, do that.”

#arcane #jayvik #jayce talis #jayce x viktor #viktor arcane #fanfic #fluff #snow #ao3 #teasing #drunk jayce #mlm #drama

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peppymintdreams · 3 months ago

Note

isaac with a listener who had a toxic mother growing up?? hurt/comfort please, i've had a rough week :(

Ofcourse my child let mama peppy comfort you may I bless you with a better week

Shadows of the Past

Isaac Rhoades x Pickle

The rain fell steadily against the windows, a soft melody that filled the stillness of the room. You sat curled on the couch, lost in thought, your gaze unfocused on the faint glow of the television. Though Isaac had been in the room with you, you barely noticed when he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned moments later, a warm mug of tea in his hands.

Quietly, he set it down on the table before settling beside you, his movements deliberate and calming. His gaze, piercing yet tender, lingered on you for a moment before he spoke.

“You’re carrying something heavy,” he said softly. “I can see it in the way your shoulders curl, the way your hands tremble. What is it, my love?”

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. Isaac always had a way of unearthing the thoughts you tried to bury, of coaxing them out into the light with his quiet persistence. But this... this was a pain so deeply ingrained, you weren’t sure how to put it into words.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, the crack in your voice betraying you.

He moved closer, his hand resting gently on your knee. The touch grounded you, soft yet firm, like a tether keeping you from being swept away. “Don’t do that,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Don’t diminish what you’re feeling. You can tell me. Always.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you looked away, ashamed of your vulnerability. “I was thinking about my mom,” you finally admitted, your voice barely audible.

Isaac didn’t react immediately, but his hand stayed where it was, offering silent support. “Go on,” he urged, his tone a gentle nudge.

You drew a shaky breath, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “She wasn’t like most mothers. She was... controlling, cruel. She tore me down every chance she got, made me feel small, like nothing I did was ever good enough. And then, somehow, she’d twist it so I felt like I needed her approval just to exist.”

Isaac’s jaw tightened, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes, though his grip on your knee remained steady.

“She criticized everything,” you continued, the pain of each memory sharpening your voice. “My looks, my choices, my dreams. She’d compare me to other people, like I was a disappointment she had to endure. And if I ever tried to stand up for myself... she’d guilt me until I felt like the worst person alive.”

Isaac’s hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing away a tear. When you met his gaze, you saw something that made your breath catch—a depth of emotion so profound, it was almost overwhelming.

“My love,” he began, his voice low and sonorous, each word chosen with precision, “it is an unspeakable cruelty to wound a soul as pure as yours. The torment she inflicted is not your burden to carry—it is a testament to her own inadequacies, her own failure to recognize the radiance you possess.”

The weight of his words settled over you, a soothing balm to the ache in your chest.

“She stole pieces of you, didn’t she?” he asked, his tone a mixture of sorrow and fury. “She took your confidence, your joy, and replaced them with doubt and pain. But hear me now, my love: you are whole. Even with the scars she left behind, you are whole, and you are extraordinary.”

You blinked rapidly, your tears flowing freely now, and Isaac cupped your face with both hands, as if shielding you from the shadows of the past.

“She sought to diminish you because your light outshone her fractured soul,” he continued, his voice soft yet commanding. “But you are brilliance personified. Every scar you bear is a testament to your strength. Every step you take away from her is a victory, a defiance of the narrative she tried to write for you.”

Your voice trembled as you whispered, “Sometimes I still hear her... telling me I’m not enough.”

Isaac’s jaw clenched, and he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours. “Then let my voice rise above hers,” he said, his words a tender vow. “Let me drown out her echoes with truths that are irrefutable: you are enough. More than enough. You are a symphony of grace and resilience, a masterpiece of heart and spirit.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, filling the voids left by years of doubt and pain.

“You are the very dynamics of beauty and strength,” Isaac continued, his tone reverent. “And I, who have seen the depths of you, find myself in awe every single day. To me, you are not broken. You are radiant, my love. And no voice, not hers nor anyone else’s, can take that from you.”

You sobbed openly now, your face buried in his chest as his arms wrapped around you, holding you with the unwavering steadiness you so desperately needed.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words fragile yet fervent.

“And I you,” Isaac murmured against your hair, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “With a depth that words cannot fully capture, but I will try, again and again, for as long as you’ll allow me. You are safe here, my heart. Always.”

In his embrace, you felt the chains of your past loosen, the weight of your mother’s voice fading beneath the steady, unrelenting strength of Isaac’s love.

P.S. Hey… hey, you! 🫵🏾 Do you want more Sakuverse gay shit? Hit that follow button and send in a request! You’ll get notifications whenever I post new fics or Sakuverse Reimagined Twist of Fate, and maybe even a chance to have your OC featured in a story.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #peppymintdreamsproduction #isaac rhoades #zsakuva isaac #isaac is angy #sakuverse isaac #isaac rhoades x reader #isaac #isaac x reader #whatcha fina do pickle #pickle is in a bit of a pickle 🤪#angst #angst with a happy ending #ask the mint and you shall receive #ask and you shall receive my dream child

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amayaonly1 · 29 days ago

Text

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 13

About: Genji seeks solace and wisdom from her father during a rare visit to her home. Through their heartfelt conversation, she confronts her own fears and decisions. Coincidentally, this introspection carries her into an unexpected reunion with Eminem on stage, where unresolved tensions unfold through a powerful and raw performance.

*Italics = Speaking in Japanese

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

The soft rhythm of the April rain against the shoji screens was the only sound breaking the silence. Genji sat across from the elderly man, dressed in a blue yukata, at their chabudai, steam rising from their cups of roasted barley tea. It had been a few days since her last performance, and this brief break back home in Kichijōji was a welcome pause. The man, calm as ever, sipped his tea, the gentle clink of his cup against the table marking the moment.

Genji's fingers traced the rim of her teacup, her gaze distant. Her mind, however, was heavy with the swirling thoughts of the past few months. The uncertainty. The decisions. The distance.

"Papa," she began, her voice hesitant, breaking the silence.

Her father set his cup down, tilting his head slightly, his weathered face kind and attentive. "Hmm?" he responded, his heavy accent adding a melodic rhythm to the single syllable. He had a way of making everything seem less overwhelming.

Genji hesitated, her eyes fixed on the dark liquid swirling in her cup. "Do you think..." She paused, then exhaled, forcing herself to continue. "Do you think it's possible to hurt someone because you're trying to protect them?"

He leaned back slightly, his thoughtful silence filling the space between them. But she wasn't worried about his reaction. Growing up, she'd always known him not to be the kind of man to rush into words, believing in letting silence breathe to allow thoughts to settle before speaking.

"Is there someone you have in mind?" he asked gently, his voice like the steady flow of a stream.

She shrugged, a slight frown pulling at her lips. "I'm not sure," she said evasively. "Maybe. I just… I don't understand why someone would push someone else away if they cared about them. It doesn't make sense."

The elderly man hummed thoughtfully, folding his hands in his lap. "When people push others away, Fu-chan," he began. "It is often because they are afraid."

"Afraid?" Genji repeated, her voice tinged with frustration. "Of what? If you care about someone, shouldn't you want to keep them close?"

His gaze softened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. "Afraid of losing them, or of being seen too clearly. Being vulnerable can be frightening, especially for someone who has been hurt before. They may believe that by creating distance, they are protecting themselves or the other person."

"But doesn't that just make everything worse?" she pressed, her voice rising slightly, frustration seeping through.

He nodded slowly. "It does," he admitted, his tone measured. "But fear is not rational. And when people act out of fear, they often make choices that don't seem to make sense. Like when your mother…" He stopped himself, the weight of the memory momentarily visible in his eyes.

Genji's breath hitched. Her mother had always been a quiet, almost sacred topic between them, a shadow that lingered but was rarely spoken of.

"When your mother left," he continued nevertheless, his voice steady but low. "I thought the best way to protect myself and you was to close myself off. I believed it was the right thing, to build walls so I wouldn't feel the loss so deeply again. That was why I never remarried, as my priority has always been you. But in doing so, I hurt many people, even if I didn't mean to."

The admission, though spoken without bitterness, struck her like a chord that resonated in her chest. She looked up, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, they sat in that shared, vulnerable silence.

"And you," her father added softly, his tone almost teasing but his eyes serious. "You did the same once, didn't you? After… everything."

She stilled, her fingers tightening slightly around her cup. Her father didn't need to elaborate; they both understood what he meant. The time she spent retreating into herself after her marriage ended, shutting people out as though isolation could stitch the fractures in her heart.

"You told me once it was to protect yourself," he continued gently. "You couldn't bear the thought of going through the same experience with another man. I think this person you speak of might have thought the same."

Genji's lips parted, but no words came. She hadn't expected to hear her own story mirrored back to her. It was a truth she rarely touched, and hearing it now, framed so plainly, left her feeling exposed yet understood.

Her father leaned back, his gaze steady but kind. "The hardest lesson I learned was that vulnerability isn't weakness. The bravest thing you can do is let someone in, even when it scares you. So if this person truly cares for you, he will find his way back."

The rain outside slowed, its rhythm tapering into a gentle drizzle. She nodded slowly, his words weaving themselves into the quiet storm inside her. She didn't reply immediately, but the weight of her thoughts felt a little lighter, the edges a little softer.

The heat of the stage lights in SEC Armadillo seeped into Genji's skin as she stood backstage, her heartbeat syncing with the muffled roar of the crowd as she prepared for the second half of her world tour performance. The electric energy of the arena vibrated through her chest, but her thoughts were still on the conversation with her father. His words lingered, yet they felt unresolved. She exhaled deeply, shaking the thought away as she adjusted the microphone in her hand, smoothing the fabric of her outfit. This was her stage, her moment. She was ready.

A crew member appeared, gesturing. "It’s time."

Stepping into the wings, Genji let the crowd’s cheers wash over her, each roar sharpening her focus. The house lights dimmed, signalling the start of her set. But instead of the anticipated opening beat of "Shatterproof", a hauntingly familiar rhythm filled the air.

Her breath hitched.

It was "Walls of My Own", the track she had written with Eminem. They hadn't performed together since they recorded in Dre's studio.

The crowd faltered briefly, a wave of confusion rippling through them. But as the iconic beat dropped, their hesitation gave way to deafening cheers. The rhythm pulled her forward like a magnet.

The spotlight found her as she stepped onto the stage. The energy surged as the audience buzzed with anticipation.

傷ついた夢、消えない記憶 (Kizutsuita yume, kienai kioku) (Dreams that are broken, memories don't fade) 孤独の中で進む軌跡 (Kodoku no naka de susumu kiseki) (Walking through the loneliness, the path I made) Breakin' through the static、音を裂く (Breakin' through the static, oto wo saku) (Breakin' through the static, tearing through the sound) 闇の中でも光は描く (Yami no naka demo hikari wa egaku) (Even in the dark, the light will come around)

Her first verse came naturally, her words sharp and clear, each syllable sliced through the air like a blade. The Japanese verses, rooted in her upbringing, carried a defiant edge. She paced across the stage, the rhythm grounding her even as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Each line felt like an unfiltered offering. The crowd was hers, their voices rising in unison with her own.

Then, as her verse ended, the beat shifted. His voice cut through the air like a lightning strike.

Eminem stepped out.

The crowd erupted. Their excitement was visceral, shaking the walls of the arena.

I'm a ghost in the booth, yeah, I haunt this mic, Turned my trauma into tracks, now I'm locked in a fight. Every grin's a grenade, every laugh's a knife, Every line's another layer of my fucked-up life.

Genji stepped back for a moment, watching him strode onto the stage. His intense delivery filled the space as the words he spat were filled with an anguish that mirrored her own, his pain laid bare for the world to hear. She watched him as he moved with the music, his body leaning into the rhythm with his energy commanding the stage. She had always admired how he poured his pain into every verse; and here, tonight, it was no different.

She felt his presence loom closer. He stepped forward, locking eyes with her for the briefest of moments. His gaze was a mixture of defiance and something unspoken as he rapped the next verse.

I shove you away 'cause I'm savin' myself, But I'm dyin' inside while I'm screamin' for help. Buried the truth deep beneath the facade, The saboteur's a voice that keeps me at odds.

His voice cracked slightly, carrying the weight of his struggle through his aggressive verses. They were more confrontational than anything Genji had ever heard from him in person. She could almost feel his frustration seeping into every line, his internal battle laid bare for the world to hear. For a moment, everything else faded. The lights, the crowd, the music; none of it mattered. It was just them, sharing a stage after months of distance. The crowd saw only a performance; she saw the man behind the bravado.

As the song came to an end, the final notes echoed through the arena. The crowd roared, their excitement so overwhelming that they were oblivious to the two rappers looking at each other. For them, at least in Genji's mind, the performance wasn't just about the applause; it was a moment of reconciliation.

It wasn't long before Eminem strode to the front of the stage, his signature smirk firmly in place. He grabbed a mic, lifting it to his lips as if he'd owned the stage all along.

"Glasgow," his voice cut through the noise, a teasing edge to his tone. "I told myself I'd stay backstage tonight, but Gen here made it impossible. So, yeah, I crashed her party. You're fuckin' welcome."

The audience erupted in laughter and cheers.

Genji turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. She tilted her head slightly, her expression a mix of amusement and challenge. "Didn’t think you were the type to crash concerts," she quipped, her voice smooth yet edged with amusement.

He shrugged, stepping closer to her, his smirk widening. "Guess I'm full of surprises."

She shook her head, letting out a laugh. "Alright, alright," she said into her mic, her tone mock-reluctant. "If you're gonna hijack my set, at least make it worth their while."

"Oh, I plan to," Eminem shot back, his confidence electric.

Genji turned back to her band, grinning as she stepped toward them. "Guess we'll have to switch it up," she said, her voice laced with playful confidence. "How about an instrumental version of We Made You?"

The crowd buzzed with intrigue at the mention of the familiar hit. However, things could be said differently for the band leader, who instantly let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically.

"Instrumental? Really?" he mocked jokingly as he adjusted the strap of his bass guitar. "C'mon, G, don't insult us like that. We've got ya covered." The rest of the band chimed in with grins and playful nods of agreement.

Genji laughed, shaking her head. "Okay," she said, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. "Let's see what you've got."

The opening beat of the track dropped, and the applause surged again. The music hit like a spark to dry tinder, igniting the room. As the music for We Made You began, their synergy became undeniable. They moved in perfect rhythm, their verses weaving together like a dance, neither outshining the other but elevating the performance.

When the final note faded, the lights dimmed, and Eminem turned to the guitarist, who gave him a knowing look before adjusting his instrument. The soft chords of Beautiful began to play, transforming the atmosphere into something intimate.

Genji hesitated as the spotlight found her again. But when Eminem gave her a small nod, she raised the mic, her voice steady:

Lately I've been hard to reach I've been too long on my own...

Her voice carried the weight of the moment, each word resonating deeply. Eminem stepped into the centre, his mic raised as his voice became apparent with every word he rapped.

I'm just so fucking depressed I just can't seem to get out this slump If I could just get over this hump But I need something to pull me out this dump

The audience fell silent, hanging on every word. There was something deeply personal about the song tonight. Genji, standing beside him, didn’t hesitate. She took her place, her voice gentle but filled with strength, a calm contrast to his intensity.

But don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh They can all get fucked, just stay true to you, so Don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh They can all get fucked, just stay true to you, so

Their voices blended seamlessly, a perfect harmony of strength and softness. The crowd was enraptured, lost in the music, in the raw emotion of the moment. There was no bravado here, just truth.

As they continued the song, the connection between them deepened. It wasn't just a performance anymore. It was a shared experience, a catharsis. They were sharing pieces of themselves, laying them bare under the harsh glow of the stage lights. The world outside of the arena didn’t matter. Only the music did.

When the final notes faded, the crowd erupted in applause, some waving their phones like lighters in the dark. Eminem turned to Genji, his expression softer now, a quiet pride in his eyes.

"Thanks for letting me crash," he said, his voice low enough not to carry past her. "It's your show, after all."

Genji smiled, a genuine curve of her lips. "Thanks for making it unforgettable." She then turned to the crowd, one hand raising the mic, and the other gesturing at him. "Give it up for Eminem!"

The crowd's response was deafening, a tidal wave of cheers and applause that reverberated through the arena. Genji stepped back slightly, allowing him to bask in the moment, but before she could retreat completely, Eminem closed the distance between them.

He leaned in and gave her a side hug. His lips barely moved as he whispered into her ear, "We'll talk backstage."

The quiet intensity of his voice left her momentarily stunned, her heart racing for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint. But before she could respond, he pulled back, smirking as he turned to wave at the crowd one last time.

Their silhouettes lingered onstage for a beat longer, cast against the glowing lights before they disappeared into the wings. For the audience, it was a night to remember. For Genji, it was a moment that left her wondering what awaited her in the conversation.

#eminem #eminem fanfiction #eminem imagine #eminem x reader

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blueberrybladelemonade · 1 year ago

Text

Comfort in You

Summary: You have a bad day and you go lay in bed with your thoughts. You forgot Peppino would be coming over today.

(Also a rare instance of YOU getting the comfort this time :3 )

Your eyes drifted absently over the assorted teas and coffee in the opened cabinet. It was then that you realized you didn't even remember boiling the water or opening the cabinet in front of you. Only that you entered the kitchen. You shook your head and rubbed your eyes, grabbing the nearest tea bag to drop in the hot water.

Your mind drifted lazily to a different line of thought. A prickling sensation made its way into your throat. You reflexively clenched your teeth to choke those feelings back down into your churning stomach.

You returned back to your bedroom, where your clothes from earlier today covered the floor. With a lazy kick out of the way you set your cup onto the end table. You made a mental note to pick those up later as you let your body collapse into the bed. The strain in your muscles, the tension, and anxiety, slowly began to melt as you lay against the cool fabric.

Despite this you didn't feel more relaxed. If anything, you felt empty. Cold. A shiver ran through as you body as you pulled the covers over yourself. With a flick of your hand, the lamp on your nightstand turned off.

Why can't you keep it together? Look how emotional you are. My God you're pathetic.

You squeeze your eyes shut so that the stinging tears don't escape. You shift and roll yourself into the sheets, holding it together. As if holding you together, as if it would contain the broken pieces of you.

Your mind drifted back to today. Was it today? Or had it been longer that you felt so empty? You replay what had caused you to feel so miserable. As your mind settles on that moment, you're unable to tear your thoughts away from it. You lost track of time as you lay in bed in that relentless loop. If you had drifted in and out of consciousness, you couldn't say.

The bedroom door creaks, making your eyes snap open.

"Y/N"? You hear a familiar voice. His voice.

You grimace, feeling your body grow heavier. You were supposed to cook together today, you had completely forgotten. Should you pretend to be asleep?

Tentative shuffle of footsteps grew nearer, as did Peppino's voice. "Are you ok"?

You shrink into yourself, feeling your stomach drop, silently hoping that he would leave. But small part of you also didn't want him to. You didn't want him to see you like this. Frozen to the mattress, you stared vacantly at the wall your back remaining turned to him.

Your mouth parted slightly, then closed. You weren't really sure what to say. It felt as if a part of your essence was fading out of your body. " 'M fine, just tired." You lied, not wanting him to worry.

Peppino quirked an eyebrow, observing your unmoving form with concern. Your usual demeanor was replaced with a much quieter, somber one. At your side you feel the bed sink with a new weight.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asks gently.

The feelings locked themselves firmly in your throat. You tried to swallow, but it felt like you couldn't function. The lump in your throat throbbed dully and each breath sent a tingling sting to your hands.

With a shaky breath you force yourself to sit up, folding your trembling hands into your lap. When you only respond with silence, not evening looking at him, Peppino's gaze immediately softens. Noticing the pure sadness radiating off of you and the disheartened look across your features.

You peer over at him with moistened eyes, "I... don't know?" you answer before hanging your head low again.

Peppino takes your hands, kissing them as he tells you it's alright. He opened his arms, mumbling a gentle "C'mere". You lean into him, which he responds by wrapping his arms around you. In another movement Peppino gently pulled you into his embrace, cradling your body against his. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"I've got-a you." He whispers next to your ear.

" 'M sorry. It's stupid".

“It might-a be to you, but not to me".

You don't remember when the first tear fell, just that your sounds came out muffled. What came out was nearly unintelligible while the voice in your head continued to berate you.

Why are you like this?

You were shushed as Peppino held you tighter, giving you the most secure and loving hug he could. "It's-a gonna be ok".

No matter how much you feel like you aren't, no matter how much your mind tells you that you aren't.

You inhale shakily before relaxing against him, his scent soothing you. A hint of bodywash still clung to his skin with a hint of sweat from the day. The familiarity put you at ease nonetheless, feeling your tension ever so slightly ease up as you clung to him.

Peppino pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. You duck your head lower, burying your head into his chest, trying to absorb more of his warmth, clutching onto him as if to convince yourself that everything will be okay. He's so warm and you can feel and hear him breathing.

"You can-a talk whenever you feel like it, mia cara." The words fall from his lips in a murmur before Peppino begins soothingly running a hand up and down your back, placing another kiss on the top of your head. Tears well up in your eyes from all the emotions you’ve bottled up throughout the day.

What felt like hours passed by. Peppino engulfed you in a comforting hold as you cried into his chest, rubbing your back as the emotional dam broke. As your tears begun to taper off, a pain pounded inside your head.

You were so grateful to have Peppino, who loved you with everything in him. He would always be here to remind you that you can and will get through it. That you'll be ok.

You tilt and lean your head up. Just enough to catch his lips in a slow soft kiss, a silent way of conveying you loved him, to thank him for being in your life. When you both break away, you settle your head back against his shoulder.

Peppino speaks up again, his gaze drifting to your nightstand.

"How about I-a make soup? Would you like that mia cara"?

You turn to look at him, giving a silent nod. "Can I help?" You mumble into his shirt.

"Of course." He replies, pulling a tissue from the nearby box, handing it to you. As he helps you to sit up you exhale sharply.

"I’m sorry you have to deal with me when I’m such a mess.” you say, guilt filling your voice.

Peppino trailed a hand down your arm, stopping at your hand to gently squeeze it. “Cara, you’re not-a mess. Everyone has-a bad days. I’ll still be here for you." He pulls you closer, his breath tickling your cheek as he places a light kiss against it. "Always".

#pizza tower #peppino x reader #pizza tower x reader #pizza tower fanfic #peppino spaghetti #🫐bladezfics

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d8nielaa · 2 months ago

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hi friend, i don’t know if my request came through or not, but if it didn’t, all is cool.

but anyway could i request a brody grant imagine where reader finds out they’re pregnant and they don’t know how to tell him but somehow he finds out and he’s super happy and it’s just them going parenthood.

thank you 💜

Authors Note: his friend!1 Im so sorry but I never saw your request before, thank gosh this one came through!!!

I'm Pregnant

Brody Grant x fem!reader

You’d been feeling off for a few weeks. Dizziness, nausea, and exhaustion had become part of your daily routine, and the test results didn’t lie. You were pregnant.

Your heart raced as you stared at the little pink lines on the stick, your thoughts swirling. You and Brody had been talking about the future, but you hadn’t expected this to happen so soon. You weren’t sure how to break the news to him, or if he’d be ready. Your relationship was strong, but this was a whole new chapter—and it made you nervous.

Brody had been his usual carefree self, always with a smile on his face and ready to face anything with his typical optimism. He had no idea you were holding this secret, and part of you wanted to tell him immediately, but you couldn’t shake that nervousness.

Days passed, and you kept your growing secret, feeling like it was a weight you couldn’t share. It wasn’t that you doubted his reaction—Brody was kind, loving, and always supportive—but this was huge. Parenthood was a big leap.

Then one evening, after you both had dinner, Brody noticed you weren’t yourself. You’d been quiet for the past few days, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“Hey,” he said, sitting beside you on the couch and brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “What’s going on? You’ve been distant. If something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me.”

You glanced at him, a lump forming in your throat. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, you simply leaned into his side, trying to find the right moment.

Brody was quiet for a beat before he tilted your chin toward him, his brow furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong, baby?”

The silence stretched, but you could feel your heart pounding as you finally looked up at him, your eyes wide with uncertainty.

“I—I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, your voice shaky. “I’ve been keeping it from you, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Brody’s expression changed in an instant—from concern to shock, then pure joy. His eyes softened as a grin spread across his face, and he pulled you close.

“Wait, what?” He pulled back slightly, searching your face to make sure he heard you right. “You’re… really? You’re pregnant?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of it all come crashing down in that moment. “Yeah, I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m scared, Brody. This is huge. What if I’m not ready?”

Brody cupped your face in his hands, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re in this together. I’m so happy, baby. I can’t believe it. We’re gonna be parents!”

You felt a huge relief wash over you as his words sunk in. His reaction was everything you had hoped for. He was excited. Thrilled, even.

He kissed your forehead and pulled you into a tight hug. “We’re gonna be the best parents. I know it. I love you so much, and we’ve got this.”

The joy that flooded your chest made your heart swell. For the first time in days, you felt truly at peace with everything. Brody was right. You were in this together.

As the weeks went by, Brody showed just how ready he was for parenthood. From helping you pick out baby books to making sure you took your vitamins, he was by your side every step of the way. You’d catch him talking to your little one sometimes, telling them stories about how he was going to teach them to sing or how he’d never let them down.

One afternoon, while you were sitting on the couch, your hand resting on your growing belly, Brody leaned down and whispered to it. “Hey, kiddo, I can’t wait to meet you. You’re gonna love your mom. She’s the best.”

You smiled as you watched him, your heart full. There were a lot of unknowns ahead, but with Brody beside you, you knew that together, you could handle anything. Parenthood would be a new adventure, but you couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note: how was hall's thanksgiving?!

#the outsiders musical #x reader #brody grant #ponyboy curtis #brody grant x reader

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cielettosa · 9 months ago

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you levi stans always believing that levi is still the most popular aot character. bro was surpassed by season 4 eren and now levi is just completely irrelevant. levi isn’t even iconic any longer. the anime just made him a cold badass and took everything that made him special in the manga away. everyone just thinks he is fan service and is annoyed when he appears in anything now (official arts, bad boy). aot may fade away but the one people will remember is eren and it shows. he is the one with constant interactions, likes, and google searches. honestly pretty sure mikasa tops levi in popularity by now too. levi has fallen from his high perch and turned into an irrelevant worthless loser to the masses. it’s honestly what you levi stans deserve for hating on eren all those years before the time skip.

anyways proof below along with the anime corner poll at the end of the year. https://x.com/justmeight/status/1791195643815637415?s=46&t=opIHY9xYZlEjLmRQ4bbogA

Hey angry warrior,

This is a popularity poll from japan

Listen, hiding behind anonymity like a cockroach under a fridge doesn't exactly make your opinion on Levi sound profound. Maybe if you crawled out from under your rock and signed your name, your critique might hold some weight.

Here you are, complaining about a character you supposedly think is irrelevant, yet you're obsessed enough to write a hate-mail manifesto.

If you think Levi's just a "cold badass" stereotype, then you clearly haven't been paying attention. Maybe actually delve into some character analysis before you try to school others.

scarletskiesinthepaths and cosmicjoke has some good analysis. And I have written some too, and I am linking them too.

people whines about "fan service" with "Bad Boy" yet spout nonsense about Levi's popularity fading. Pick a lane, genius!

Levi fan art annoying people? Honey, the only thing getting annoyed is probably the internet struggling to render all the glorious Levi content.

Levi is Eren's mentor. Let that sink in. The guy you claim is "irrelevant" literally shaped the protagonist you idolize. And guess what? Mentors often fade into thebackground as their students grow. It doesn't diminish their importance, it's simply the natural order of things.

You are overlooking the fact that Levi is the character who is frequently written about in fanfictions within the Attack on Titan fandom.

Levi may have lost some shine in your eyes, but to claim Mikasa dethroned him? Now that's some Grade A delusion. News flash: Popularity contests aren't won by saltyinternet rants.

Popularity contests change faster than your bedsheets, but characters like Levi endure. Most people don't spend their days fuming about fictional characters. Maybe take a shower, touch some grass, and realize the world doesn't revolve around your internet vendettas.broaden your horizons. Look beyond internet hype and explore what truly makes a character compelling. Maybe then you'll understand why Levi remains a fan favorite, his legacy secure long after the fleeting popularity of season 4 fades like a bad spray tan. Until then, keep your uninformed opinions to yourself, and perhaps consider a rewatch of AoT with a more discerning eye.

You clutch that "Levi-is-washed-up" theory like a participation trophy, but the evidence is about as reliable as a toddler's drawing of a spaceship. Let's dissect this "proof" of yours, shall we? Someone tweeted a college of characters they think are iconic? Wow, groundbreaking. Next, you'll be citing crayon scribbles on a bathroom stall as gospel.

You have the right to dislike Levi, but whining about popularity polls is the height of internet fandom tears.

Real criticism goes beyond "your husbando didn't win!"

So ditch the temper tantrum and try constructing an actual argument. Levi might not be your cup of tea, but resorting to popularity contests is just pure embarrassing

Broaden your horizons. Look beyond the surface hype and delve into what makes a character truly captivating. Until you have that epiphany, keep your ill-informed opinions to yourself, and maybe give Attack on Titan another go, this time with an actual brain in tow.

Analysis by me:

Levi Ackerman: Why he is Humanity's Strongest Soldier

Levi and Kenny

How Levi utilizes his intellect in fighting and decision making and his leadership in final battle

Levi Ackerman (an overall analysis? My first one so it's not good)

Entire discourse:

Gojo is better than Levi:

https://www.tumblr.com/cinyemina/743823703078518784/gojo-vs-levi-whs-better-i-think-gojo?source=share

Gojo is better than Levi because he is more popular:

https://www.tumblr.com/cinyemina/744103319358865408/well-gojo-beat-levi-in-the-anime-corner-popularity?source=share

People lacks individuality and follows hype:

https://www.tumblr.com/cinyemina/748344782599913472/its-sad-that-people-are-so-insecure-that-they?source=share (no discourse here)

Levi is not a well written character because he is "not popular":

https://www.tumblr.com/cinyemina/748700520518172672/popularity-does-matter-and-helps-measure-a?source=share

#anime #levi ackerman #eren yeager #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #ask #manga #levi heichou #eren jaeger #levi #snk levi #cielettosa #cielettosa rants #cielettosa ask

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cycian · 1 year ago

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I feel like Andreja and Sarah need kisses on the foreheads.

You're right and you should say it!

Andreja and Sarah get kissed on the forehead, pure fluff, around 800 words under the 'read more'

I feel like Andreja and Sarah need kisses on the foreheads.

Andreja

Andreja groaned with pride as she set the bar down for the last set of her workout. She let her eyes close for a second as the Spacefarer took the weights off the bar, stretching across the bench. She felt a towel wipe the sweat off her brow and offered a shy smile to the Captain. This level of intimacy was new to her, but just as refreshing as the feeling of relief and satisfaction that she got from her exercise meditation.

The simple act of her dearest wiping her brow so that she could fully enjoy the relaxation that the end of her physical exercise entailed filled her heart with joy. To be loved, to be understood and allowed to bask in the moment made Andreja’s heart leap.

But that was nothing compared to the feeling of lips pressed against her forehead. A surprised chuckle escaped her lips as she felt two hands steadily gripping her shoulders, before giving them a quick massage.

“I am truly blessed to be with you, my dearest.” Andreja finally opened her eyes, letting them get lost in her Captain’s own. The Spacefarer’s forehead came to rest against hers and Andreja could not resist the urge to let her eyes close again.

She had spent so long, always keeping one eye open, never getting the privilege of being able to simply let herself be. Another kiss on her forehead and gentle hands on her shoulders.

She’d never look back. There was so much more to look forward to.

Sarah Morgan

The pile of data slate on top of her desk somehow kept growing taller. Sarah Morgan was unsure on how such a feat was possible—but she’d learnt that paperwork was akin to Old Earth witchery decades ago and had since made her peace with it. It was a shame, really. Such a gorgeous day would have been better spent in the Great Unknown. Yet, she was stuck. Stuck behind that desk with no possibility to grab coffee (Vladimir had been hogging the kitchen with Andreja and there was no way she was making her way past him without getting caught up in one of his tales) and stuck with paperwork.

She’d watched the day go by through numbers and short messages to Walter. Stuck.

The Chair of Constellation was so caught up in the five data slates whose data did not up that she had failed to notice the side door to her bedroom and office slowly creak open. She was only broken out of her reverie once a hand softly forced the data pad down, replacing it with a warm cup of tranquilitea.

Her tired eyes met the Spacefarer’s, as they let their weight rest against her desk, littered with data slates, notes and loose pieces of paper.

“You should get some rest, Sarah.”

She narrowed her eyes and resisted the urge to roll them, instead opting for a long swig of the warm beverage. Chamomile and Valerian—someone was attempting to fix her sleep schedule. Before she could retort anything regarding the matter, the Captain’s hands busied themselves. They stacked the slates on one side of the desk, and the paper notes on the other side. They proceeded carefully, giving Sarah plenty of time to object.

A couple of months ago, she probably would have asked them to leave her to it—it was her duty, as Chair of Constellation, to handle the brunt of the paperwork. Yet, with a warm cup of tea in her hands, and the care with which her partner put away the cause of today’s headache, she could not find it in her to complain.

She watched, almost hypnotized, her vision blurring as the sleep and herbal tea finally caught up to her. She felt a pair of strong arms lift her off her seat, before her back met the familiar softness of her mattress.

“’m sorry, budgeting tires me out faster than fighting terrormorphs, it seems.” Sarah mumbled as her partner helped her out of her shoes and jacket.

“Shush, just get some rest.”

Sarah wondered if that was one of the Captain’s powers, to make her feel so… serene. After over a decade of being constantly at war with herself, it felt eerie. Eerie to no longer be pushing against sleep, for fear of nightmares and the cold sweat that followed in their wake—no longer straining every limit her body and mind had to keep Constellation running single-handedly. She would’ve loved to voice her appreciation for her partner, but to no avail. As their lips met her forehead, their weight against her body, no word could come out.

She settled for the next best thing. She let herself be embraced, she let her forehead be kissed a dozen time over. Sarah Morgan let herself be cared for.

Sarah let herself be loved.

#starfield #starfield prompt fill #sarah morgan #andreja #all the kisses on their foreheads

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pandorafallz · 2 months ago

Text

Ashes in her wake | C12

Leyapay’s side still stung and Alma felt her leg throb horribly since the painkillers had begun to fade along the ride beside the broken arches. Still, she didn’t stop them again at Zeswa camps, like Celebration or Music Point as the sky began to darken. She did almost stop at Big Shadow station before Music Point but seeing lights on an a few resistance members actively in it, she pressed on quickly and hoped they didn’t see her pass.

Three Stone Lab was her final destination on the Upper Plains. Tomorrow, she’d make the ascent up East from the decommissioned Stone Processing Alpha plant where access up to higher land was possible on the back of a Direhorse; the rest of the ridge was mostly sheer cliffs and the next possible options meant crossing into Feral territory but she had no plans to go north any further than that.

Today was enough in that respect and neither of them needed more mauling.

Thankfully, Alma was relieved to reach the empty station and slipped from the saddle with ease then she hissed as the pain radiated a little up her calf as her foot bent in contact with the floor but tapered off as she shifted the weight from her leg back.

“Ah…” She peered down through the grass but was glad to see the bandage was intact and not bleeding still but she’d have to be careful. Too close to fucking up the Zeswa’s healing techniques.

Alma carefully removed Leyapay’s saddle and set it beside the basket and let the Pa’li trot about the space, before padding straight towards the river. She watched her drink some water before she noticed the familiar plants growing by the river. One she felt foolish for not remembering sooner.

“I forgot about you…” Eagerly, Alma hobbled towards the river as well before she reached the Dapophet plant and pulled off a few pods, her thumb peeled off the thin protective film from one of the pods before she sunk her teeth into it.

It had a mild floral flavour, a little remnant of minty cucumber but very watered down. It felt… soothing on her stomach to eat but the texture was like very stiff grape. Odd but not dissatisfactory either.

She’d need to take some of these. Dapophet may not be an instant healer but for her, it would aid both their new wounds, not only to keep them clean but to aid the healing process. She’d have to harvest from multiple plants for a sizeable collection of pods for the trip; she didn’t know when she’d be close to a river for a retrieval. Not just the pods along the trunk but a few leaves on top and the sap.

Sap collected from the trunk would become a good insect repellent. Of course, she didn’t need that just yet but it was a good reminder she needed to collect resin powder to turn the sap into a solid that wouldn’t stick to everything like glue or simply make a new canteen for its pure form. A problem for later. Dapophet didn’t change despite biomes so she didn’t have to worry either on her travels. They were an ‘everywhere plant’ like grass or moss. As long as there was a water source, there was a Dapophet.

She pulled out two more pods and happily returned back to the lab and restarted the fire. From the basket, she pulled out the small mortar and pestle and ground two pods up into a delicate mush and tipped it into a cup for when Leyapay returned.

From the looks of her bag, she was almost out of Shelter fruits. Not the worst thing nor her only source of food but she’d need to harvest something else. Another problem is that… she’d probably need to get something for protein soon enough. Okul’s gifted supply had been some dried and smoked meat; meant for on-the-road travelling but she knew that wasn’t a lot either. She needed to find more meat but also… her hunting techniques weren’t at all good.

Not only with her side still healing, but her new leg wound also didn’t help. She could fish, that she could do. She had spent years learning to fish for the sake of feeding her avatar and fish was the easier animal to get but that also meant now she had to… actually offer a prayer to thank it? The notion felt silly to do in a way because she was not a spiritual person. She had never done that but Okul had been very insistent she did. They expected her to do that.

She was travelling alone. Eywa was real, that was certainty but… if Eywa watched her and failed to offer thanks knowingly… her journey may be more difficult. Alma wasn’t a fool to think that High Camp in the East’s sanctuary hadn’t been breached because Eywa still had a sway with fauna. Kept them safe from the RDA. She looked out for her warriors.

But she was alone out here. A sizeable target and pretty defenceless in the grand scheme of things. Eywa could easily smite her and no one would know…. Or care either. She was still just a ‘Dreamwalker’ to the clans of this region.

Alma frowned, coming to the fridge and pulled out some of the resistance rations to eat but also took one of the pod fruits that were inside for her mount. It looked pretty stocked as well, so… why not take what wasn’t human-safe and enjoy? There were plenty of fruits left in there and mushrooms. Her last lab raid. After that, everything was on her shoulders, thanks and all. A few more days of easy food.

Then the real hard work begins.

Damn.

Alma wrinkled her nose, scoffing down the last of the pack and tossed the packet into the bin. Clicking her tongue to draw Leyapay back, she hobbled out and offered her fruit and let her lay down to eat peacefully.

The wounds on her mount’s flank didn’t need to be bound like her leg but had a thin layer of leaves that peeled off as Alma examined her side. It looked sore, unmistakable but Direhorse skin was more resilient and would heal faster. The treatment the Zeswa gave clearly stopped it from progressing worse as she hoped but it still looked like it needed another dollop of ointment to help. Might make her sleep better too.

Carefully, Alma gently applied fresh gel and Dapophet mush across the sewn marks, earning a displeased huff but thankfully, the Pa’li didn’t get up or stop her as she gently soothed the gel into place and pressed a new leaf cover over the top. Gently washing the edges down with the last of the gel and left her to her fruit with a pat to her thigh.

“<You know, I really do baby you a lot.>” Alma remarked, “<You’ll get too reliant on me if I keep feeding you fruits. Once we’re up in the heartlands, there should be more food you can access at any time without my help. Fruit also can’t just be a constant staple. I’m sure you also eat bark and shrubs as well to have a balanced diet.>”

However, she was sure Leyapay preferred her as an easy option but she supposed the Direhorse wasn’t blind to her food being safe to eat when in an unfamiliar territory. She was a Clouded Forest Pa’li. Very different food out here. Maybe she also ate mushrooms? That was plentiful in the foggy, damp air of the Clouded Forest stuck to trees and those massive bark shells.

She’d have to test that out when settled in a camp of sorts.

Alma settled into the field lab as the night drew in. Taking the time before bed to start working on a proper holster for the spear which was simply a strap now that she’d affix onto the spear shaft and wear it on her back; she’d spare the saddle more cargo and the fact it was not practical. On her, it was available to swing off and use, providing she put it on after tsaheylu otherwise she’d get it caught on her kuru.

It was done by the time the fire burned low and she stared up at the metal ceiling but sleep did not come quick as her mind churned. Last night under the safety of a metal box and tomorrow, she’d leave what technology she had…

Maybe she could take her tablet at the very least. Maybe make a pouch to hide it from the Na’vi? She could… document her findings or perhaps just hold data for her to look back on. She had a notebook, but sooner or later she’d run out of paper.

She could make more paper?

Would the science be the same to craft such a medium? Plant Mulch and wooden screens, vine goop as a binder to stop the fibres from breaking apart when dried. She had the technique down on the tablet.

Alma eyed her saddle bag that sat innocently. Inside, the tablet.

She was travelling alone. No one would be around to see… or care for that matter. She could always abandon it if she did join some group or clan. She was not about to pretend to be a Na’vi, not with her hands and feet so did it matter if they knew she had some technology?

Her fingers tapped softly over the back of her other hand, sucking on her teeth softly.

If she took her tablet, she still needed her solar charger for it. That wasn’t as easy to hide, if at all. With her tablet, she could take photos and take quick notes and not worry about needing a medium to record on.

But, without her tablet, she’d need paper and she could draw them. Refine that old hobby into something of a craft. Maybe she could trade with people who were interested in those pictures? She had no endpoint… so no reason to rush through her travels. She had all the time in the world. She could set up somewhere to make paper…

But the raw materials?

It would take a while to process and without proper tools and she knew nearly nothing about the practical side of it. Still, she could practise. Shelter bushes were used by the Zeswa to aid their camps so, it shouldn’t be too hard to take refuge in one of those for some time. All she’d have to do before she left tomorrow morning was fill up more of her notes on the how-to of paper making and experiment from there.

Could she take the tablet as a backup option, even if she didn’t use it?

Alma groaned at the mental debate the tablet was. A small thing but it had both potential and drawbacks. No, tomorrow’s quandary otherwise she wouldn’t sleep. She took a few deep breaths, trying to clear her mind…

“Okni?” Her steps echoed loud as she followed swiftly from the medical pay, her heart pounding from what she had seen and the alarm felt distant from her ears as she rounded the corner where the outside door was.

A large frame of the airlock was set beside the storage room where Mercer had TAP supplies kept. Mostly just stationary for the classroom but Alma often used it to store her books for the kids. Close and easy.

The airlock had clear signs of scratches on for her to see this was where Okni had been. The panel beside the door was dead and broken; its smooth finish of the glass was shattered with something hard and heavy…. Like the fire extinguisher on the floor gave plenty of reason.

Her eyes ran carefully across the airlock, her hand coming to rest over her belt; feeling the lump of her panic alarm underneath the hem of her shirt but didn’t press it as she carefully and slowly entered the storage room…

“Okni.” Her eyes could see through the darkness with ease, she felt the girl was close yet she stepped further in, “I know you’re scared but you need to come out. We can… rectify this swiftly if you come out and follow me to the dorms. I don’t want you to get hurt and coming with me will be your best option, okay?”

Movement behind her was too fast before she gasped as her head was yanked back by her kuru and the cold blade was pressed into her skin…

Alma woke sharply, her eyes snapping open and her heart thumping fast in her chest. Her skin felt cold and sticky.

“Ugh.” She took a shallow breath, her head turning as movement caught her attention to see Leyapay standing very close by in the lab and clearly up for the day. “<What?>” She asked grumpily.

Leyapay tongue flicked out and licked her across the face. Alma cringed away from the hot wet tongue, pulling a face and wrinkling her nose. “<Gross>” She rolled out the other side of the hammock swiftly. “<No. No face-licking.>” She wiped her face against her arm.

Leyapay was unbothered by her ire and trotted about still around the vast space in front of the lab and past the shack models and tactfully nibbled some purple foliage.

Alma groaned again, heading straight towards the river and dunking herself in the shallow water to clean away the sweat. Her fingers rubbed into her skin, targeting the creases first before she felt any better. Her hand faltered over her throat, her fingers brushing over the point where she felt that blade in her last avatar.

Why was this memory coming back to her sleep again?

She fully expected Nor’s blade to wake her nightly; the feeling of her life being seeped out from her side. Her human self dying over and over. Why the first one?

Alma ran the water through her loose hair in handfuls, reminding herself to make a comb at some point. For now, she squeezed the water out as she waded out and ran her fingers through the locks, pulling a few strands. She pulled them back and just set the loose locks into a simple braid beside the kuru to keep it from getting in the way and from being too knotted up while she rode. Still, it felt a little weird to run her fingers so freely through her hair. Straight hair too.

Her heart panged a little in quiet reminiscence. Curly hair. It felt… odd, or perhaps it was natural but Alma found herself missing a little of the familiar curled texture of her human hair, the natural coils that ping back towards her scalp. The work she put in to keep it healthy for the last three decades on this planet had not been easy. Sure, she had once relished the link-bed life because she didn’t need to do that much in the way of her avatar’s hair; same style and was easy to replicate every few months. Did she miss it now because she no longer had it?

She shook her mind from those thoughts. Now was not a time to dwell on her losses. She had to get ready to go.

Alma cleaned up her used messes, taking the fabric hammock after a moment of consideration for a spare and added that into her basket; either she’d find company or she could repurpose it to hold more supplies. Either way, it would have use. She opted to print out the paper-making know-how from the monitor rather than spend her needed hours writing it out. After which, she tucked the sheets away into her notebook and wrapped them in waterproof wrap and added that into the saddlebag.

The fruits in storage, along with some small bags of dried seeds, nuts and mushrooms also made their way into her bags. Thank you, Resistance. She tried not feeling guilty but whoever would come here was gonna be disappointed. Still, the dry RDA rations she opted to leave; the humans needed those the most. At least any Sarentu or Na’vi could hunt around for meat and fruits.

She did one last sweep, putting the fire out with a bowl of water before she noticed something.

A small thing really and one she knew it was useless in the wilderness of Pandora and it was clearly tucked hastily away under a box beside the cooking station.

SID.

Alex had said he made more. Not Kìoetey’s one, no she didn’t leave Resistance without it. Ri’nela did have one and chose not to use it needlessly. Nor refused flat-out due to the metal.

There in the handle was a scraped initial of T, scratched in by a screwdriver head.

Teylan’s SID.

Alma stared at it for a moment, her hand picking it up. He must have hidden it away at some point before the party. So the RDA didn’t take it nor learn about its uses. Or know how to defend against it. Was… this useful to have? Would she… encounter RDA to need this device or would she avoid them? Could she steal Teylan’s property after everything? Did he miss this?

She knew Alex had tried to get her to use in it the first few prototypes and had been burned once when one early version blew up in her hand. This was the finished model… so she wasn’t at risk and clearly Kìoetey had found it useful in fighting the RDA.

But she wasn’t out here to fight the RDA.

Plus, it had software that would be trackable by the resistance. So if she took it, she’d need to disable the resistance’s ability to ping it. She didn’t need them coming after her to lecture her again. Plus, it wasn’t hard really… and out in the middle of nowhere was probably safest to do so; away from human technology. Harder to get any ping out there.

But what if she was found by the RDA? She’d need to access their technology to get out if they didn’t take it off her. She couldn’t do that as a giant…

She made her decision unhappily. Organising her bag and calling Leyapay from her grazing over and looking at her leaf side, Alma realised that her leg had stopped hurting. Had she forgotten? She paused in putting the saddle on before she bent down and peeled a little of the leafy bandage to see that… the wounds looked… good. Not inflamed, the skin looked smoother and the wound looked to have a light scabbing as well. The new air did cause a mild stinging but she replaced it over with a relief.

Dapophet was magical stuff, it seemed. Still, she’d give the stitches a few more days to properly heal before removing them. At least now she didn’t have to suffer too much and neither did Leyapay.

“<No>” She sensed the Pa’li’s intent and turned in time to see Leyapay with her tongue out, inches from her elbow. She huffed but Alma swiftly returned to saddling her up and tightening the straps and clipped on her basket and saddlebag. She set the seat to rest in the ground upright before she jumped up and connected to the Direhorse, pulling the spear up and set behind her back. It felt comfortable and her hands were entirely free now.

She gave the field lab a long look, swallowing down the lump in her throat but it was time. No more field labs. No more easy life. No last-second chances of the resistance changing their minds either. Why would they? Why would the Sarentu change their minds?

Better this way.

She deserved it… after everything she had done and failed to do.

Leyapay huffed, her hoofs scratching at the grass before she steadied her grip on the Direhorse Kurus, tore her eyes away and let her lead away for their last stretch from the Upper Plains.

Masterlist

#alma cortez #avatar #avatar au #frontiers of pandora #avatar frontiers of pandora #avatar fop #so'lek #teylan #sarentu #fop #the resistance #exile alma #avatar rda

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