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dejwrld · 1 year ago

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CHOSOIST KINKTOBER GAMING PLAYLIST — WEEK 1

( DEMON TIME) 🎮 INCUBUS!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X READER

— game synopsis: your boyfriend has been quite neglectful when it comes to your needs. not particularly being the best book boyfriend similar to the books you've read. but the one demon that visits you in your dreams seem to give you everything you need.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, mentions of reader having a boyfriend, doggystyle, unprotected sex, dirty talk (simon calls reader a slut), mentions of wet dreams, pillow humping, infidelity, kinda monsterfucking, mentions of simon having horns, gaslighting, i changed the ending like 5 times omg

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ kinktober masterlist / previous playthrough

You planned the whole night out for you and your boyfriend—a Halloween tradition that you two always did every year. Binge-watch some Halloween movies, give out candy to children who knocked on your shared apartment door, and have wonderful sex as Jason Vorhees kills his next victim playing in the background. But tonight, you sat alone on the cream-colored sofa with a half bowl of candy (because trick-and-treaters didn’t stop coming despite your boyfriend did). You felt embarrassed, the running thought that you should have let this relationship go sooner flashing through your mind similar to a light bulb flickering on when someone has a wonderful idea.

You were grasping onto a dead relationship and yearning for a happy ever after that wasn’t even there. You turned the television off and decided to clean up for the evening. Putting away the snacks you laid out and the pizza that grew cold as minutes went by. Pure disappointment sat at the pit of your stomach while cleaning up and eventually finding yourself in bed a little earlier than usual. You quickly did your evening routine of skincare and brushing your teeth before letting your feet guide you to your bed. The sound of late-night partygoers was heard outside and you can only tune out the squeals of excitement as you drift off into a deep slumber.

But as your body finally fell into the comfort of getting some rest, you soon felt your body jerk up suddenly at the sound of your wooden floors creaking. You wanted to be excited that your boyfriend actually came home and maybe you could do the activities you had planned. Expecting to see him tugging off his button-down shirt and complaining about his supervisor being up his ass during the eight-hour work shift—but instead, you were met with a large figure staring at you. His burly arms crossed over his chest causing the tight black t-shirt to clench upon his upper body. You blinked a couple of times assuming you were dreaming. You even reached to your wrist to pop at the beaded bracelet your boyfriend got you at this carnival you guys went to. The beads sting your wrist after you do that action and you still don’t jolt up in a completely cold sweat.

“You’re not dreaming, love.” His deep voice erupted your thoughts that were racing with questions. “Actually, kinda in the middle. Not dreaming, but actually dreaming. Hard to explain,” He points out before tilting his head at you.

Now you wanted to scream. A large man with a black mask that had a skull imprinted on it was standing just inches away from your bed and your body shook with fear as you inched away from him but was met with your cream-colored headboard.

“It’s no need to panic, you summoned me here. Well, kinda.” He explains. “Fuck.” He utters before clearing his throat and trying again.

“Every Halloween, some lonely single person's guilt and hurt is so strong that it summons me or one of my peers. A mere incubus that they can have for just one night,” The masked man explained, and when he saw you look at him as if he’s grown an extra pair of arms (which he could do if he put his mind to it, he was fuckin’ demon after all). “You’re actually the first person I’ve been assigned to in a while.”

“I’m so fucking confused right now.” You swing your feet over the ledge of your bed, sliding into your slippers, and walking over to the mysterious man. When you got closer, you immediately poked at his arm and were met with hardness.

He was real. He wasn’t like some ghost and maybe you had gone crazy.

“But I’m not single…” you pointed out as you circled around his large frame to get a good look at him. If he wasn’t a ghost, he still was here, and if anything went to shit to the point that you had to call the cops—at least you had a visual of his stature.

You couldn’t tell if his face scrunched up in a confused manner, but his eyes told the rather confused feeling he possessed. You stood in front of him crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m actually taken…” Your voice trails off and for some reason saying that left a bad taste in your mouth.

It didn’t feel like you were taken. Especially when you went to sleep alone tonight.

“Hm, that’s interesting. It doesn’t seem like that. So if you’re not taken…you’re hurt. Did the little boyfriend and yourself have an argument?” The stranger waltzed over to the small loveseat in your room and sat down. It was as if he was a therapist questioning you about life.

“No.” You quickly admit. “We didn’t…he just didn’t show up tonight when I planned something for us. He hasn’t answered his phone, nothing. So, I’m just confused about what I should do because this has happened before.”

“I see.” His voice trails off and he rubs at his clothed chin before standing up. “Let’s go have some fun, love.” The mysterious man whose eyes you were hypnotized with extended his large hand for you to take.

“What? I’m still in my pajamas.” You pointed it out. “I need to go change, maybe fix my hair.” You motion to the silk scarf that was tied upon your head.

“Eh, don’t worry about that. I’m a fuckin’ demon. I have it all figured out.” He says.

You met his gaze and you saw this twinkle in his light-colored eyes. It was a similar twinkle and glint that your boyfriend had when you two were in your cupcake phase during the relationship. “What’s your name? I can’t just go out with a stranger that claims he’s a demon.”

You heard him kiss his teeth, “You’ll figure it out soon.” And with that, he grabs your hand and in a blink of a moment, you’re both in a crowded bar.

You knew exactly what bar you were at because it was one that your boyfriend frequented a lot with his friends and co-workers. You had to pick him up countless times when his alcohol intake had hit its limit. But as you stood in the middle of the bar, you noticed that no one didn’t notice you. A person walked by you and you were expecting to feel their shoulder roughly bump into you—but instead, their body went through yours as if you merely were a ghost. No one in this bar knew you two were here, which sucked considering your attire.

Your hands roamed your body as you wore a blood-red leather corset and a black leather mini-skirt that hugged your lower half perfectly. On your head was a headband that was decorated with two sparkly red devil horns. Of course, he would ensure you were dressed up as a demon. Your eyes searched in the crowd for him and you saw him behind the bar looking at the massive choice of alcohol. You walked towards the bar and watched him closely, “Why are we here?” You asked.

“To have a good time.” The man’s fingers tapped at his masked face before grabbing a random bottle and some shot glasses. “So, drink this and let loose.”

You took the shot off the bar and drank it quickly just in time to hear a loud cheer from the back of the bar. Your head turns to follow the commotion of people dressed up for Halloween while playing what seems to be an intense game of pool. When you saw the familiar figure with a football jersey on, your heart sank immediately. There your boyfriend was playing pool with a huge grin on his face while his friends cheered him on. The shot you took, immediately helped your stomach form the most horrendous knots and you wanted to go home.

“No.” The demon behind the bar said before filling your shot glass up again.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” Your eyes stared at the liquor in your glass and you then watched him lift the mask just a bit so he could down his own shot. “You brought me here on purpose.” Your eyes narrow at him.

“I did. To see that you’re all sad for that.” His fingers motion to your boyfriend. “He has seen your text messages by the way and five missed calls.” He adds and you didn’t even want to question him he knew that you had blown up your boyfriend’s phone.

“It’s really no point to be here. I’ll just talk to him when I get home.” You adjusted the headband on your head. “So, can you please teleport me back home Mr. Demon?”

“No.” He adds before walking around the bar so that he is sitting on the barstool next to you. His large callous hands grab the end of the stool you were comfortably sitting in and bring it closer to him. “We’re going to make your lovely boyfriend so paranoid that he’ll be groveling at your feet.”

“And how the hell are we going to do that if he can’t see us?” Your eyes met with the mysterious demon and you felt hot under his gaze. Maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face and since it was Halloween, no one was going to question why he wore a mask.

“Who said he can’t see us?” His head tilts just a bit before he snaps his finger and suddenly when he snaps his finger and moves your stool just a bit—your boyfriend glances in your direction quickly. So quickly he did a double take at how close you were with the demon who popped up in your life this evening.

Your boyfriend’s eyes enlarged at the sight of you and what you were wearing and soon the demon snaps his fingers again. You watched as your boyfriend still glanced in your direction, but it was as if he simply was imagining things. He shook his head and went back to sipping his alcohol.

“He’s going to lose his mind by the end of the night.” The demon adds with confidence oozing from his tone.

“I guess, this will work. But, I must ask. Why’d the mask? Also, where are your horns? Don’t demons have horns?” You took it upon yourself to take the cocktail that the bartender just put on the bar since no one could see you two.

“I do have horns, just think the horns give everyone a good spook.” He points out. “Last time, a lady threw a glass at me. So, I settled with the mask and no horns.” He takes a sip from the beer bottle that the bartender sat in front of a talking customer next to him.

“Hm,” was the only thing you said. “Are you ugly? A lot of horror stories perceive demons as ugly.”

“Quite the opposite.” He backfires. “Can’t really haunt people's dreams to have sex with them and solve their problems if we’re ugly.” He jokes.

“Then can I see your face?” You asked, your fingers twirling the straw in your cocktail and you gave him a grin.

“After you stop being so uptight and help me…help you.” He finishes his beer and he stands up motioning for you to follow.

With a quickness, you’re downing your cocktail and following the man in the crowd. The music was so loud that you had to practically yell out anything you wanted him to hear. “What about your name? Do you have a name?”

“Simon, or Ghost. Whichever you prefer.” He walks over to the pool table, and leans against the pool table adjacent to the one your boyfriend and his friends were at.

You watched as some random woman dressed as a cheerleader placed her arms around your boyfriend's waist as he was trying to hit the pool ball. You felt jealousy, anger, and betrayal seeing this. He ditched your plans to be out with her. That douche.

“Don’t have such a down face.” Simon nudges your side before grabbing the pool table. “Like I said, we are going to make him lose his mind by the end of the night.” He grabs a hold of your waist after grabbing a pool stick. “Just go with the flow, love.” He whispered in your ear and you felt your skin decorated with goosebumps.

Simon helped guide your hand towards breaking the balls in the middle of the table. Despite the bar being fairly cool, you felt hot with how close he was to you. His crotch pressing against the fatness of your butt in the skin-tight mini skirt. His breath itching at the shell of your ear. Just as you are about to hit the ball, he snaps his fingers again making you two noticeable in the crowd of people. The sound of wolf whistles could be heard seeing your figure bent over—if Simon wasn’t here, strangers would have been to see what your momma gave you. There as Simon helps you break the group of balls perfectly, you squeal in excitement gaining the attention of your boyfriend’s friend and soon your boyfriend again. His face goes red at the sight of Simon’s hands all on you and you watch as he scrambles to remove the pretty woman off him. He made his way to the pool table, but Simon snapped his fingers again causing your boyfriend to be confused once again. Your eyes scan over his face while he shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath.

“And now he’s going to call you. But you’re going to ignore his call because that’s exactly what he’s been doing to you.” Simon leans against the pool table and the two of you watch as your boyfriend pulls out his phone to call you.

You were astonished at what you were viewing, he was panicking. The mere thought of you being with another man had him about to explode. You watch as your boyfriend runs his fingers through his hair, a thing he does when he’s overthinking his ass off. You knew for a fact that he was overthinking the fact that you were probably out having just as much fun as him.

“So, Simon. Do you have sex with all the women whose lives and dreams you hop into?”

“Not all of them. Some just want someone to talk to.” He shrugs. “You on the other hand just need someone to teach your nitwit of a boyfriend to appreciate what he has.” He adds.

“So, you wouldn’t have sex with me? Just put my boyfriend in check.” You playfully nudged his side and you were met with hardness.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” His eyes met yours and you were forced to swallow the large lump in your throat. “Because I may have known your boyfriend is an idiot, but I also know he hasn’t touched you in weeks…a month and a half to be exact.” He adds as he turns to face you. This time, he’s caging you from leaving since you were still resting on the pool table.

“I could have gone the sex route, but that wouldn’t solve your shitty boyfriend situation which would mean I would be stuck with you until you’re no longer miserable.” He says. “But, you and I know that you’re a good girl.” His hand adjusts the red devil horn headband on your head. “You wouldn’t cheat on him, even though..he’s probably going to cheat on you with her.” He motions to the brunette cheerleader who is still by your boyfriend's side even as he is attempting to call your phone.

“You don’t know me, Simon.” You pointed it out. “Only what you observe about my life.”

“Then do you want to prove me wrong, love?” His hand rests on your waist tugging you closer to him.

“I’m sure that’s what you’ll want.”

“It is, I’m not going to deny it. But, I’m not going to force it out of you. You’re a grown woman, use your words and make your own decision.” He drops his hands from your waist and walks away from you, disappearing in the crowd and towards the bathroom.

Like the touch-deprived woman you were, you followed before him. But just as you were walking to follow him in the bathroom, you bumped into your boyfriend. You expected your body to go right through his since Simon did snap his fingers, but you collided with your boyfriend’s shoulder gaining his attention. When he saw you, that look of shock appeared again and his lips parted to speak, but just as his hands reached out for you—your boyfriend's confused expression returned and his hand that went to grab at you, went right through you. You started to feel bad, but as you walked further away—seeing the woman clutch on your boyfriend made all the guilt that was bubbling inside of you burst.

You walked into the bathroom and it was filled with many girls fixing their makeup and drunkenly complimenting each other. Bit by bit they scattered out the bathroom when they heard some generic pop song come on. Simon was leaning against the pink-colored tile walls waiting.

“So, you’ve made your decision?” He asked with his arms crossed over his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t be in here if I didn’t.”

Simon chuckles at your words before he brings his hands to the fabric of the black mask. You were preparing yourself for what you were about to see. You knew he was attractive behind the mask, his whole demeanor screamed it. The way he carried himself. His confidence. You can go on and still be naming many other attributes.

He pulls the mask out and you have to catch yourself from letting your jaw drop. Despite his face being decorated with scars, you had questions about—he still looked like he could have the face of an angel. His dirty blonde colored strands were ruffled due to the mask and his eyes—you’d stared upon them all night but finally putting a face to them made your knees go weak.

You walked closer towards him, “Will they see us?” You asked as you glanced back at the door.

“Only if you want.” He closes the gap between you two.

You mentally were weighing out the pros and cons of this. Frankly, the pros benefit you much more than the cons. So you took that leap and kissed Simon immediately. The sound of the bathroom door swung open, and someone walked in to grab a paper towel. Because of Simon and his silly demon powers, they didn’t even know you two were there. The drunken stranger walked right through you and Simon as you were making out. His hands roamed your body as if you were a precious gem he had just found. Your body attempted to guide him into one of the stalls, but he didn’t budge. You weren’t sure if it was because he had other plans in mind or if it was because of his huge stature.

“It’s not like anyone could see us.” Simon's words mumble against your skin as he places kisses on your neck. His body guides you towards the bathroom sink before he twirls you around.

You were forced to stare at yourself in the mirror at your reflection. The clear lip gloss that formerly stained your lips was smudged across your face. Your eyes were glossy of anticipation and need for a demon you had just met. The feeling of his bulge pressing against your butt causes you to close your eyes and inhale sharply.

“That’s true, but—one mere snap could make them see us.” You spoke out.

“They’ll be too intoxicated to notice.” His eyes met yours in the mirror before he rolled the skirt that left practically nothing for imagination up around your waist. The coolness of the bathroom causes your skin to be garnished with little goosebumps and your hair to stand up on your limbs, you clutch upon the porcelain sink.

You only hum at Simon’s words while he pulls your panties to the side and begins to line himself to insert you after removing his cock from his bottoms. The tip of his cock rubs against your wet folds collecting the essence that stains the inside of your thighs. Each push forward into your pussy, the grip on your waist grew tighter. The sound of his cries of pleasure was like music to your ears. Completely distracting you from the fact that his cock was stretching you out bit by bit.

“Just give me the go and I’ll keep going, love.” He professes. His eyes once more meeting yours and seeing the way your lips part apart to let out a broken moan, gave him the answer he ached to hear. His hips push forward being met with the cushion of your ass and he just wondered with not being touched in so long, how do you like to be fucked.

“How’d you want, Y/N?” Simon questions, his hips rolling in a slow and sensational way causing you to moan some more. “Slow.” He adds before pulling himself fully out of your cunt. “Or.” His voice trails off as he’s lining himself back up to slam inside your addicting pussy again. “Hard.”

Your brain couldn’t comprehend his question quickly enough because he soon gave you a mixture of both. Slow strokes to have you crying out his name as if the people entering and exiting the bathroom could hear you. Fast and hard strokes to have your breath hitch in your throat and for you to hold onto the surface tighter.

The vulgar sound of skin slapping against each other begins to ring in your ears like a sweet jazz tune. Your hand reaches back behind you to slow down Simon’s movement, but he swats your hand away as if it were a mere inconvenience to him. Simon lifts the shirt he wore to bring it up to his mouth. Despite the two of your bodies already crossing a boundary, he needed you to be closer. His teeth held up the ends of his shirt as he thrust forward inside you. Simon has pleasured many people in the world, but nothing was like this. No one has ever clutched around his hardened cock like this. Sweat beads form on his forehead and he felt completely pussy drunk for you.

Your knees were growing weak but, Simon assured you that you don’t fall. With each stroke and thrust, he held you closer to make sure his motion didn’t get interrupted. Tears decorate your lashline causing your mascara to smudge.

“Fuck.” You moaned out. “I’m so clos-” Your words were interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open and your boyfriend walked in making out with the brunette who seemed to be attached by his hip all evening.

“Don’t pay attention to him, only me.” His fingers coil into your hair tugging you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. His eyes never broke eye contact with you in the mirror. “It’s just me and you in here, right?” He questions as he thrusts inside of you.

Your eyes averted to your boyfriend as he was making out with the girl, but he broke the kiss quickly. “I just need to call her, ensure she’s okay. She hasn’t answered my calls and that’s not like her.”

“Hmm, wonder what she’s doing.” Simon teasingly whispers in your ear. “Is she home watching her silly little Halloween movies or is she getting fucked like a slut in a bathroom?” With each word, he thrusts inside you.

“She’s probably just sleeping.” The brunette pecks your boyfriend’s lips. “Or getting fucked.” She jokes and your boyfriend pushes her away.

“That’s not funny.” He says before he tries to leave the bathroom and through the sound of your heated flesh slapping against Simon’s toned thighs, his finger snaps just in time for your boyfriend to see a glimpse of his pretty girlfriend (who he assumed was home) getting fucked a stranger he didn’t know.

Your boyfriend’s eyes enlarged at the sight but before he could fully react, Simon snapped his fingers once more causing the two of you to be merely an illusion once more. Your boyfriend ran his hand over his face finally coming to terms that he had to get out of here. He had to ensure that you were home right where he assumed you were. As Simon continued to fuck you until you were seeing stars, your paranoid boyfriend rushed out of the bathroom calling your phone that was still home. Each second, your phone went to voice mail causing your boyfriend to spiral even more at the thought that a handsome stranger had you bent over in the bar he frequently goes to.

“And my work here is done, love. Sweets dreams.” Simon kisses the side of your temple just in time for you to finally orgasm all over his cock—but eventually, jolt up in your bedroom in a cold sweat and your panties soaked.

Instantly, your hands run over your body where Simon formerly touched. Your fingertips dance upon your lips that he once kissed trying to process everything that just happened. He did say you were dreaming, but it felt so real. The demon costume hugging your body like a latex glove felt real. Simon’s cock being inside you felt real.

But your suspicions were deemed true as your boyfriend burst through the room in a panic. Sweat droplets embellish his forehead as if he ran all the way home to you.

“Y/N, did you go out tonight?” Your boyfriend asked.

With false confusion plastered on your face, you blinked a couple of times.

“No, is everything okay? Maybe you’re being just a bit paranoid, babe.”

And in his own realm which was the home of incubus demons around the world, Simon viewed the conversation unfold with a smirk.

“That’s my girl.”

⸻ TAGS // @syndrlla97 @leoyayzies @salaciousdoll @xintothewoodswegox @bxrbie1 @lilvampirina @wiinterz @dvafoxxystrashcan

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #female reader #call of duty x reader #video game x reader #angelshubnetwork #chosoistkinktober23 #⊹˳⁺ ♡ ��𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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alotofpockets · 10 months ago

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Regret | Alexia Putellas x Reader & Leah Williamson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Where Alexia regrets breaking up with you.

A/n: happiest of birthdays to @greynatomy 💗 Also pretend that everything in italics is actually said in spanish :)

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.8k

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You checked your phone when you got back to the locker room after practice. The name you were hoping to see wasn’t among your notifications, so you dropped it back in your pocket with a sombre look. Leah noticed the action she had repeatedly seen over the past couple of days, and decided that she had waited long enough to not ask questions. “Movie night at my place tonight.” By the way she didn’t say it in the form of a question, you knew there was no getting out of this. “Fine, but you’re ordering pizza.” Leah smiled, having achieved what she wanted, “You know I would never say no to pizza.”

That’s how you found yourself in front of the apartment you knew all too well. When you moved from Barcelona to England just six months ago, Leah had taken you in for the first few weeks, until you found a place in London. Your national teammate Laia had offered as well, but as much as you loved her you took the bed offered by Leah over the offer of her couch. Which ended up being a great decision because you and Leah got close right away, and you would call her one of your best friends currently. You check your phone once more, hoping for that one name to show up, but it wasn’t there so you used the spare key to let yourself into Leah’s place.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Leah yelled out from her bedroom. You quickly put a fake smile on your face when you heard her walking towards you. Leah pretended to not notice for now, and greeted you like nothing happened. She hoped that in the comfort of a one on one hang out you would open up to her on your own, but when you were half way through the movie, and you still hadn’t said anything, she decided that she had given you enough time to come to her. So, the next time your phone buzzed, and your face fell without opening the notification, she paused the movie. “Okay, what’s going on?” You look anywhere but at her, “Nothing is going on Lee, let’s just watch the movie.”

However, Leah wasn’t going to move on so quickly. “You keep checking your phone, and then looking disappointed, and don’t tell me I’m wrong because I’ve been noticing it all week. Please just tell me what’s going on. Is it Ale?” Your eyes snapped up at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. The broken look behind them said enough for Leah to know that it had everything to do with Alexia. “What did she do? Do I need to fly to Barca to knock some sense into her?” You sigh in frustration, “It isn’t exactly what she did, it’s what she hasn’t done.” Leah was ready to listen and nodded for you to continue. “So, she’s barely spoken to me all week. No video calls, or regular calls, just a couple texts here and there. I keep trying to have a normal conversation with her, and I just get short answers. I’ve asked if she’s okay, and she just keeps saying that everything is fine.” Tears well in your eyes. “It’s not fine though. It can’t be fine, if she’s literally shutting me out.”

Your phone lights up in the middle of your conversation, and both of you stare at the message that popped up on your screen.

Alexia: Can we talk?

The dreaded message that you were expecting to receive in the back of your mind. Though you didn’t know the extent of the talk she wanted to have, you knew it couldn’t mean something good after this week. “Are you okay?” Leah put her hand on your knee. “No I’m not, but let’s just get this call over with.” She nodded in understanding, with a squeeze of your knee she got up. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Y/n: Sure, call me

In the back of your mind you knew exactly what this conversation was going to result in, Alexia had been pulling away from you, so there was only one logical outcome of this call for you. You picked up the video call, “Hey.” You left out all nicknames, not wanting to put in unnecessary effort, plus it’s not like she said 'hi' before asking you if you could talk. “Hi y/n, oh you’re not home, we can just talk later.” It felt like a stab in your chest, hearing her use your first name. With a shake of your head you say, “It’s fine, let’s just get this over with, Ale.”

Alexia started shuffling around nervously. “I’m sorry to do this over a call, but I think we need to break up.” There it was, the words you had seen coming, but still hurt more than you could have imagined. You stared blankly at your screen, not really knowing what to say. Alexia understood, and continued talking. “It’s just been hard on me to do this whole distance thing. There’s a lot going on, and I just need you here by my side. I know I can’t ask you to move back, because you deserve to play at your dream club. So, I think that what’s best for me right now is for us to let each other go.” Tears were now rolling down your cheeks. “Why is the first I’m hearing of this while you’re breaking up with me? I thought communication was so important to you. How long have you been feeling this way?” There was an anger to your tone that made Alexia not be able to keep eye contact. “I didn’t come to this decision rashly, if that’s what you’re asking.” You blink away the tears, your sadness making room for anger. “How long, Alexia?” You stared at her angrily until you got an answer. “About a month.”

“You are unbelievable. How could you just not say anything? You literally didn’t even give us a fighting chance.” The tears were back. “I’m sorry.” Alexia said softly. “Save your sorrys, they’re not going to fix this.” She nodded, “I know.” You close your eyes, “I guess this is it then.” With a defeated sigh you open your eyes again. “I’m really sorry.” You roll your eyes, “Save it. I’m going to hang up now, I need some space.” With a shaking finger you pressed the end call button without giving Alexia a chance to respond.

After giving yourself a minute you make your way over to Leah’s room, which you enter after a soft knock. You found her sitting with her headphones on, even though she didn’t understand Spanish, she still wanted to give you your space, which you appreciated. Leah didn’t need to hear you say the words, she could read on your face that it was exactly what you had been thinking. “Oh love, come here.” She patted the bed and opened her arms. You laid down without a second thought, and let her hold you tight. In the comfort of her arms, your tears flowed freely.

You stayed the night at Leah’s, you didn’t have to ask, and she didn’t have to offer, it just was. Leah had fallen asleep a while ago. You were glad that you weren’t ruining her sleep as well, because you had an early wake up call for a match in the morning. Your mind kept running circles. Three years down the drain like it was nothing, how could she just break-up with you without ever voicing her troubles?

At some point you must’ve fallen asleep though, because Leah gently shook you awake. “Hey, I’ve got breakfast ready.” You send her a questioning look, Leah didn’t cook. “Okay fine, you’ve got me. Lia picked up breakfast on the way over.” With a small smile you get up and follow her to the kitchen. By the way Lia held you just a little longer in the hug, you knew that Leah had told her. “Stop it Wally, you're going to make me cry.” You didn't mind Leah telling her, cause it meant that it would be one less person you would have to tell yourself. “Thank you for the food, but I'm not really hungry.” Lia nodded, “Okay, I'll just pack some of it up for you then, you're gonna have to eat something before the match.” You knew she was right, so you let her pack up some food, and add it to your backpack, while you slumped down on the couch.

Lia and Leah were talking in the kitchen, while you were staring at the living room ceiling. Your phone dings with a new message, and out of habit you check it right away. The name you so desperately wanted to see pop up all week, now made your stomach turn, and your heart clench.

Alexia: I'm really sorry, I never meant to hurt you.

You threw your phone in frustration, the device landing on the floor with a loud tud, making Leah enter the room right away. “What's wrong?” Leah picks up the phone and checks if it's okay in the process. “Fucking Alexia clearly doesn't understand what needing space means.” Leah rolled her eyes, “She never learned to listen, did she?” In the short time that Leah had known you, she had heard you complain about the little communication things Alexia lacked to improve on many times.

Lia entered the living room, “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to head out or we're going to miss the bus.” You grab your bag and head to the front door, without a care for your phone, so Leah pockets it in case you would want it later. Lia headed to the driver's seat, and you took the back, letting Leah sit in front with Lia. You were down, and did not want to pull either one of them down with you, especially not before a match.

You arrived at London Colney for a final pre-match meeting to go over the tactics. Usually, once you arrived you mingled with your teammates, but now you stuck to Leah's side like a lost puppy. Arsenal had taken you in as a part of their own right from the start, you loved the family vibe the team had, and often found yourself amongst the jokers in the group. Today however when a hyper looking Kyra and Beth made their way over, you didn't budge when they tried to pull you away. “What’s up with you, party pooper?” Beth asks with a furrowed brow. “Ale broke up with me, are you happy now?” You snapped at the striker, loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. With widened eyes you apologise to Beth, before you walk out of the room, not being able to handle all your teammates staring at you with pity. Beth wanted to follow you to apologise, but Leah stopped her. “It’s okay, just let her be for a moment.”

After a few minutes you entered the room again, so the meeting could start. “I’m sorry.” Beth whispers, as you sit down next to her. You lean your head on her shoulder, “No, I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arm around you for the duration of the meeting, hoping to offer some comfort.

On the bus towards the stadium you were playing at today you sat by yourself in the front row, while the rest of the team sat together in the back, still needing a bit of space. Once the bus started driving, Leah walked up to the front. “I’m fine, Lee.” You said before even letting her say anything. “I know you are, just thought you would like these for the drive.” She handed you her headphones and her phone. “Thank you.” You appreciated her and her thoughtfulness, having her phone to play music would mean no messages from Alexia popping up.

Your anger towards Alexia showed in your playing style that match, you were more aggressive, and sliding in any time you could. At one point Leah had to tell you to take it easy, but you managed to get away without any cards, and the team won the match.

The next few weeks you had to get over Alexia. You didn’t want to live in the bubble of sadness that the breakup had created around you. It helped not being in the same country as her, not being able to just walk into her, and also your surroundings not having her written all over them. You spend a lot of your time with your Arsenal teammates, weekly bonding nights with the whole team, and random outings with one group or another.

When international break was around the corner, you felt confident in saying you were mostly over Alexia. Sure, some things still hurt you, but in your mind you could still be affected by something even though you were over your ex.

Laia was sitting next to you at the airport gate when the rooming schedule was shared in the group, you scanned for your name, and realised they had kept you with Alexia just like last camp. Laia must’ve seen it too, because without having to mention anything, she told you she would get it sorted. She got her roommate to switch with you, so you would room with Laia for this camp.

When you arrived at the Spanish training grounds, you were happy to see your teammates again, but seeing Alexia amongst them was definitely a mood crusher. You tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, and just ignore and avoid her, so you would be able to enjoy the time with your friends. You were mostly able to do that, for about an hour. That is when Alexia came knocking on your door. Laia is the one to open, “Hey, is y/n here?” You didn’t want to put Laia in the middle of your issues with Alexia, so you walked to the door. “What do you want?” Her eyes diverted to the ground, “Can we talk for a moment?” You didn’t want to talk, but knew that it was probably for the best, if you were going to be at the same location for the upcoming two weeks, as well as playing together. So, you close the door behind you and follow her to an empty room in the building.

It stayed silent for a few minutes, long awkward minutes in your experience, but you weren’t going to start whatever conversation Alexia wanted to have. So, you waited for Alexia to speak up while inspecting every uninteresting thing in the room. “Y/n, I really messed up. I miss you, I should have never broken up with you. I should’ve fought for us, I wish I fought for us. Can I still fight for us?” You couldn’t believe what she was saying. “You really hurt me, Alexia. I don’t think you understand how much pain you’ve caused me.” Alexia steps towards you, “Trust me, I do understand. I’ve been miserable over this.” You take a step back right away, “If you understood, you wouldn’t be asking me for a second chance. I can never trust you the way I did before. You didn’t fight for us when you needed to. We are over Ale, there no longer is an us to fight for.” And with that you left the room.

The week of training before the two friendlies you would play went by fast. You avoided Alexia as much as possible, but during training exercises you set aside your differences because football was a team effort, and you didn’t want your personal situation to affect the team’s results.

Your first friendly against Italy went down without a hitch, earning a final score of 4-1. You were however looking forward to your second friendly against England more. Not only playing against your Arsenal teammates Leah, Beth, Alessia, and Lotte, but also seeing them again. It hadn’t been that long ago of course, but since you were so close with the team, you were missing them dearly.

After a 2-2 draw you walked around the field shaking hands with the Lionesses, and found Leah on the field who you brought in for a hug. She kissed your cheek before Beth came flying in with a hug, but the moment wasn’t missed by Alexia who had been watching the interaction from the dugout. You had told her the two of you were over, but that interaction finalised it for her. You really weren’t hers anymore.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #spain wnt #spain women's national team #lionesses #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal women #awfc x reader

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sturniolo04 · 4 months ago

Text

Cuddly C.S.

Bf!Chris x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

You and Chris were one of the newer couples on the block and by newer I mean you guys were only in the first month into dating. You and him being the newer couple you are, you guys have no clue how to act around each other. Dont get you wrong you two are pretty comfortable around each other when you guys go on dates but as far as showing each other physical affection it was somewhat was uncharted territory.

Which brings you to tonight now standing in the front of the door to Chris shared house with his brothers but tonight they weren't home since they had other engagements that night.

"hi you"

he greets you chirpily he awkwardly brings you in for a hug. Tonight was the first night you two were spending the night together. Chris, the sweet boyfriend he has been had the whole night planned out from the dinner we were ordering to the cookies we were baking for dessert to even the movies we were planning on watching.

"hey"

you softly squeak out as you two pull away from each other as he pulled you into the house by your hand.

"so i already order pizza to be delivered to the house so I figured we could chose the movie we want to watch and then bake the cookies while we wait for the pizza to arrive"

he causually states as he blue orbs engulfs yours as he admires you.

"okay sure umm have you ever seen the movie *inserts your favorite movie* "

you ask trying to come up with a movie for you two to watch.

"i dont think i have but we can watch that if you like that movie"

he states smiling softly at you. You two started baking some chocolate chip cookies to kill the time you were waiting for the pizza to arrive so you guys could start watching the movie. Throughout maneuvering in the kitchen getting a ingredients and quite frankly leaving a messy every way, slight moments of physical touch that Chris was attempting didn't go unnoticed.

"are you almost done with stirring the dough"

chris nonchalantly states as he places himself behind you casually placing his hands on your hips. You gasp at the sudden contact it being a foreign feeling in your guys relationship since it is fairly new.

"y-yeah"

you breathe out responding to him trying not to get flustered by his simple action. He chuckles as he goes to grab a cookie sheet to finally place the cookies on to then put them in the oven to bake.

Time Skip

You guys had finally put the cookies on the cookie sheet and had placed them in the oven to bake and had to wait about 5 minutes until the pizza arrived at your guys doorstep. You couldn't shake the foreign feeling you felt with the physical contact of Chris' hands being on your body in that way; you couldn't lie you loved the feeling and were craving it. You were mindlessly scrolling on your Instagram feed as you subconsciously double-tapped everything that popped up as you two manage to stand in a comfortable silence in the kitchen on opposite sides between the island counter and the oven counter.

"okay im done with this"

chris exclaims setting his phone face down on the counter behind him he was leaning on, causing your focus to break from your phone screen and shift to your boyfriend as he makes his way over to you. Your breathe hitches as he places his hands on your hips yet again. You playfully scream out as his lifts you up to sit on top of the counter you were leaning against.

"chris what are you doingg"

you breathe out shakily giggling because of the lingering physical touch on your body, You place your hands on his shoulders, which was the first slight touch of physical touch you left on him.

"im bored"

he groans out looking up at you as his phone dings with a notification from doordash signifying that the pizza was arriving to your guys doorstep. Chris quickly places his hands on your hips again lunging you over his shoulder.

"chrisss"

you exclaim shakily once again from the feeling of his strong hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep you from falling as he walks downstairs to the door.

"chriss dont drop me"

you squeal out getting nervous.

"i got you dont worry"

he chuckles out still maintaining his strong grip on your thighs. You could feel the touch of his palms biting into your skin on your thigh, seeing that chris seemed pretty comfortable with displaying this kind of physical touch, made you feel a little more comfortable reciporating it in any way.

"cute butt"

you giggle out rythmically patting his ass with your freshly manicured hands as your boyfriend starts walking back up the stair with the pizza bag in the other hand.

"stop youre going to make me drop you and the food"

he chuckles out as he finally makes it back upstairs setting you back on your feet in front of him.

"movie time"

he shouts out as you slightly jump a the loud volume.

"yeah we have to take the cookies out of the oven so they don't burn chris"

you giggle as he completely forgot about the cookies all together.

Time Skip

you and chris finally got settled down on the couch in the living already about halfway through the movie. Chris had been continuing his attack of physical touch on your body with the occasional thigh grab or even awkwardly reaching for your hand to hold it. you genuinely didn't know how to express the sudden connection in your relationship which resulted in you seeming like this touch was something your weren't wanting to take part in.

"are you uncomfortable with all of this"

chris suddenly questions pausing the movie and removing his hand that was rested on your bare thigh causing your breath to hitch.

"w-what are you talking about"

you shakily respond, looking at him.

"like everytime i go to show you any sort of physical contact you always seem to tense up like you don't want me to touch you"

he explains as you let a deep sigh as fixates his focus on you.

"chris its not that i dont want you to touch me in that way it just all new I didn't know if it was okay for me to reciporcate it you know"

you sigh out again as it felt like a weight lifted off your chest. Chris face softens hearing the confession roll off your tongue.

"c'mere"

he softly speaks as you climb over and sit on his lap *reference you freeze as the abnormally closeness and comfort your were feeling from being so close to Chris, letting out an exhale he places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

" whenever you feel comfortable enough to show physical touch in our relationship you can I don't want you to think you can't okay"

he softly speaks as he carress the sides of your face you nod slowly agreeing with him.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03 @aaliyahsturn @stayingstromboli @emely9274

#sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #girlypopsquad🩵

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jeonjaemark · 3 days ago

Text

the one i’ve been missing || chwe hansol

content warning: none || masterlist

“thank you ma’am. i hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” the waitress smirks, handing me back my card and receipt for my check.

“thank you. i hope you have a good day too.” i return her smile and push my seat out heading towards the exit.

i turn the corner reaching the elevators. a small group of people scurry off the platform as a woman holds it open for me. press the level i needed to reach when i heard a deep voice.

“hey! wait! hold the elevator!”

the elevator start to close its doors but i quickly hit the button to remain open. a guy dressed in a white tee, a pair of jeans and converse with his baseball cap and headphones walked in. he shoots me a quick thank you for before putting on his zipped up jacket.

i look up from my phone when i smell a familiar citrus and woodsy scent.

“vernon?” i raised an eyebrow.

“y-yeah.” he stared at me as if i invaded his personal space. “y/n? w-what are you doing here?”

“i came here for a lunch date with myself. you?”

“there is a record shop just a few doors down from the restaurant.”

“it’s been a while since i last saw you. is everything

“some things have been different. you know touring the world and all with twelve other dudes.”

“so you’re still in a long committed relationship with those twelve other dudes and doing what you love.” i chuckled.

“y-yeah.” he half laughs. “what about you? i can’t remember the last time i saw you.”

“i have been traveling around. it’s time consuming being

“this is my floor. i’d love to see you again and the guys. that’s if they’re in town with you too.”

“yeah, we have a few days off. uhmm, how about we hang out tomorrow?”

i nod agreeing as vernon steps out of the elevator. “okay, just text me the details to your place and i will be around maybe noon.”

————————

“you have to joking! that is not the best christmas movie!” vernon spat, taking another slice of pizza from the table.

i clutch my chest as if to gasped for air, “get out of my house! you will not slander my favorite christmas movie of all time.”

“y/n, the princess switch doesn’t have much of a plot. home alone has a plot and it’s the best christmas movie. even elf has a better plot line than the princess switch.”

“i am suddenly realizing why we lost touch all these years.”

“what’s the princess switch?”

vernon face palms his forehead sliding down the couch dramatically. i scoff as his actions but ignored him to answer the question. vernon can pretend all he wants that he despises the princess switch but i know he secretly likes watching it with me.

“nonie! i am fine. we don’t have to do anything. it’s whatever, kai went to the winter dance with vivienne and they will live happily ever after.”

“just forget the dance. he’s not worth your time anyways. we can watch all three princess switch movies at my house.” his voice soft and warm trying to cheer me up.

“you hate this movie.” i whined.

“yeah, but i hate seeing you sad even more. c’mon, i have a bag of kettle corn with your name on it.”

“you are willing to suffer through three movies to make me feel better?”

“that’s what best friends are for, right?”

i chuckle reaching up to hug. he instantly wraps his arms around me giggling.

———

“if fiona and peter don’t end up together then i will riot.” seokmin mumbles to josh.

i chuckle to myself sideyeing him and turn my attention to vernon. his body slouched down into the couch while hugging a pillow. his eyes laser focused on the tv screen and the corners of his lips rise.

on the tv fiona had just entered the cafeteria where her estranged mother was waiting for her. my eyes start to tear up hearing fiona talk about how she was let down by her mom not being present in her life and she walks out but decides to walk back to her. vernon didn’t even look in my direction but he holds up a tissue for me. i smirk glancing at him and take the tissue. a loud sniffle comes from the other side of the couch as the credits roll. everyone turns their heads staring at seokmin who had tissues in his hands and tears streaming down his cheek.

“okay, we’ve watched all three princess switched movies and home alone, now it’s time for everyone to decide which movie is best?”

vernon and i stood up in front of the tv while we asked josh, seokmin, seungkwan, dino, mingyu, jun, seungcheol and jeonghan. each member comments of which is their favorite movie to watch. we end up with a tie which meant josh is the tie breaker.

“i am sorry, y/n. i have to go with vernon’s pick.” josh says.

“three to four, i win!” vernon cheers sticking his tongue out at me as the other disperse into their own conversation over dinner.

“whatever. the princess switch is still my favorite movie. to each their own, i guess.” i crossed my arms against my chest.

“do you want to bake some desserts like stacy in the princess switched?” he asked.

“and this is why you’re best friend.” i grin linking arms with him.

“we are best friends because you have co dependency issues and haven’t been able to let me go since the third grade.”

i laugh at his joke tossing a pillow in his direction. he throws his arms up protecting his head from my attacks. we go back and forth reminiscing over old memories together like the time i came home crying after a boy i liked rejected me or the time vernon thought he could run through the grass field before the sprinklers could turn on without getting wet. in the middle of laughing over old memories, an unknown overwhelming feeling hits me. i look up at vernon from my eyelashes as he hugs himself trying to catch his breath from laughing. a wave nostalgia hits me remembering the scene of fiona and her estranged mom except i was remembering how vernon and i have gone estranged.

“hey, is everything okay? you’re crying.” his voice filled with concern, wiping away a tear from the corner.

i smile at him. my eyes glossy mumbling, “yeah. i just missed you.”

“you’ve been here with me all day. i am not sure how you’re missing me.”

i roll my eyes at him before shoving his shoulder gently, “i meant, in general, loser. i missed spending time with you especially around the holiday season. it’s hits me more that we have grown distant.”

a few tears slip down my cheek as i sniffle. the guys all looked at one another and talk over one another to leave the living room. they scatter out of my apartment leaving vernon and i alone. a hollow hole sits in the chest making it hard to compose myself. vernon straighten his posture, his shoulders rigid as he wraps an arm around me.

“y/n, i am still here for you and i always will be. i haven’t gone anywhere.” he reassures me.

“i know. it’s just things have been different. you know they’ve changed, it’s not the same like before when we used to always hang out and see each other. now we have lives that we gotta live, even if it means we aren’t a part of each other’s everyday. it’s just sucks a little more on the day when i miss you, that’s all. i am not trying to be too mushy or anything.”

i wipe away my tears finally taking a breath. for years i have grown comfortable with how our dynamic in our friendship has changed. slowly vernon stopped texting me, but i can’t fully blame him. i have also withdrawn from him too. i got scared waiting to see if he would make time for me again and i decided to board up my heart so no one could break it.

after running into vernon after years of barely contacting one another, the feelings of longing make a surprise appearance. my heart slowly cracks thinking about all the broken slow replied exts and cancelled hang outs which never got rescheduled.

vernon squeezes my shoulder pulling me closer to him and rest his head against mine. “y/n,i have missed you too. i agree it’s not not the same like it was before. things have changed and i will fault in that for growing apart from you. i just want to remind you that even though life does take over you’ll always be my person. no one gets me like you do, so i don’t ever want to lose you. you’re my safe place and best friend.”

“vernon, you jerk! you’re not supposed to say these things to me.” i cried, smacking his arm. “you’re my safe place too. i just miss having you around and feeling connected with you. nowadays it just feels like we are casual acquaintances and i don’t like it”

“how about once a month we plan a weekend hang out together?” he suggested.

“i am not sure i want to see your face once a month.” i tap my finger against my chin out of contemplation. “wait! how can we even hang out once a weekend? your schedule is literally packed throughout the entire year.”

“okay maybe a weekend is a bit of a stretch considering we are both out traveling with packed schedules. we can have weekly facetime calls to catch up and talk. also if one of us is in town then we can meet up.”

“sounds like a doable plan, mr. chwe.” i grin looking at him. i held my pinky up to him, “to being acquaintance to best friends again.”

“y/n, we’ve always been best friends.” he laughs.

“okay, to finding our way back to each other.”

he links his pinky with mine, “to finding our way back to each other.”

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thatfandomslut · 9 months ago

Text

Captain Princess Ophelia

Reneé Rapp x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Trigger Warnings: just a lot of fluff, Shrek, and a cute pregnancy announcement

Request:

basically some fluff where r and renee take care of r niece, like, domestic cute stuff

Reneé Rapp requests are open.

Other accounts: hoe4flo | ghostyanne

Discords: Mean Girls | Mean Girls RP (in need of people)

(S/n) - Sister's Name

When (S/n) dropped off Ophelia, the first thing (Y/n)’s six-year-old niece did was run to Reneé , wrapping her arms around her aunt as she clung on excitedly. It was the first time Ophelia had visited since (Y/n) and Reneé moved into their own place now that they were married. “Are you sure you’re okay to watch her over night?” (S/n) inquired, chewing on her bottom lip as Ophelia flung her body from Reneé to the toy chest in their living room, something put there due to them knowing she was coming. They were the types of aunts to absolutely spoil their niece, and that was evident by the toys overflowing in the toy box.

“Of course,” (Y/n) smiled, ruffling Ophelia’s curls gently. She was always down to watch the girl. Since they moved, they had been a bit busier and hadn’t been able to visit yet. This was the perfect excuse to spend time with their favorite tiny terror. “We are going to order pizza for dinner, watch Ophelia’s favorite movies, play with toys. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. You deserve this night out with your husband. So, go have fun. I’ll send you several pictures of all the fun we’re going to have tonight.”

(S/n) hugged (Y/n) and Reneé gratefully as she made her way over to Ophelia. She crouched down before hugging her daughter, despite her being uninterested due to all the new toys. “Be good for your aunties,” she kissed her cheek gently before heading towards the door. “Bye, everyone, I love you all. If you need anything, do not be afraid to call.” (S/n) spoke before finally exiting. (Y/n) locked the door behind her, not because of (S/n), but because of safety. She looked over at Ophelia who was engrossed in the Superman action figure, who she paired up with a President Barbie from the Barbie movie.

“Ophie,” she called, sitting beside her niece. It took a moment before the girl looked over at (Y/n) with a big, curious grin that exposed her dimples. “Auntie Reneé and I have a surprise for you. Do you remember that princess dress that you wanted? We got it for you in the guest room. Would you like to check it out, sweetheart?”

Ophelia nodded excitedly as she followed her aunts to the bedroom. Reneé put Ophelia’s purple unicorn suitcase in the room before picking up the green, sparkling dress. “It’s so pretty! Like Fiona,” she absolutely loved Shrek after (Y/n) and Reneé decided to make sure that she was cultured and understood what true cinema was. Ever since then, she has wanted a sparkling version of Princess Fiona’s dress and a pet donkey. Hence why she had a Donkey stuffed animal on the bed alongside the dress. “Don-kay!” she squealed excitedly, pulling the stuffed toy into her arms.

“We have another surprise for you,” Reneé said as (Y/n) helped Ophelia into the dress. “We have made snacks from Shrek, and we are going to watch all the Shrek movies.” Ophelia wanted to watch all of the movies the last time they were together, but they didn’t have the time. This time, they were going to have a sleepover and they got various snacks, healthier than not as requested by (S/n), to keep her on theme.

Ophelia was ecstatic. For someone who could bounce off the walls, she was an amazing movie watcher. She loved sitting in between (Y/n) and Reneé during all of the movies they watched together. (Y/n) ordered the pizza as Reneé set out the snacks. There were green apples with ogre ears poked into them (thank you Etsy), gingerbread men talentedly put together by one of (Y/n)’s friends, pretzel sticks cleverly renamed Swamp Logs (thank you Pinterest), and water with green food coloring that they deemed to be swamp water. Ophelia was absolutely living the life.

As the three sat together, lounging on the couch, (Y/n) couldn’t help but look over to Reneé with a smile. They had waited patiently for the movies to end to share the news with Ophelia. She would be the first in the family to know what they were going to tell Ophelia. She was going to help them tell everyone else. As Shrek the Third ended, (Y/n) knew it was finally time. She was a bit nervous to tell Ophelia, but she knew that this idea was amazing.

“Hey, Ophie,” (Y/n) got her nieces attention. (Y/n) took a moment to think about how she wanted to tell her, Reneé putting a hand on her shoulder softly. “You know how in this movie, Shrek and Fiona were having babies?” She questioned softly, wanting to explain slowly since she knew this was a big announcement. Ophelia nodded with a grin. “Well, I am also going to have a baby.”

Ophelia processed this slowly, in her own time. After all, she was only six. “So, then I’ll be an aunt, too?” she asked, looking at Reneé who was behind her. She wasn’t understanding completely, but that was perfectly fine. (Y/n) and Reneé wanted to take the time to explain this to her. They knew she was probably going to have several questions.

Reneé grinned a bit at the question, gently putting a hand on Ophelia’s shoulder. “Even better,” she smirked playfully, “You’re going to be a big cousin. Which means, when (Y/n) has her baby, you’re going to have another friend to play with dolls and action figures. You can even show them Shrek. But, first, we need to ask for your help. Only you can help us.” She explained to the curly haired girl.

As the two explained to Ophelia more about the baby and told her about the plan, they gave her a shirt. It said ‘World’s Best Big Cousin” in pink font. When (S/n) went to pick up Ophelia the next day, that was the shirt she would be wearing as she ran to her mom and dad and gave them a big hug. She was taking the idea of being a big cousin as seriously as a six-year-old could. She loved the idea of having a little cousin to play with, her own baby. Though, they did have to explain that her baby cousin would be at their house and not hers.

“Oh, you got her a new shirt,” (S/n) said before gasping loudly. She looked at her younger sister in shock before passing Ophelia to her husband carefully. She then threw her arms around (Y/n) and Reneé happily. “I am so happy for you, too! Please let me be there when you tell Mom and Dad.”

(Y/n) hugged her sister back as she gave Ophelia two thumbs up. “Even better, we have Captain Princess Ophelia, her new big cousin title, to help us.” She told (S/n). They wanted to make sure Ophelia had a big role so that she knew her aunts still loved her. This was something that (S/n) noticed, appreciated, and loved as she held onto her sister.

“You two are going to be the best parents,” (S/n) expressed happily, wiping away the tears from her face then (Y/n)’s. “I can’t believe I didn’t even notice. We just went out the other night and you refused your favorite night drink: a margarita.” The group shared a laugh as they got to working on how they would tell (Y/n) and (S/n)’s parents.

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp

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sturnswrites · 16 days ago

Text

guarded hearts - pt.2

fratboy!chris x fem!reader

⤳ you meet chris while working on a class project, your personalities are very different but chris is determined to get you out of your shell.

⤳ fluff

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

The morning after the pregame, you weren't entirely sure how to process your feelings about the night before. Chris had been...surprisingly fun. He’d kept things light, made you laugh, and didn’t seem put off by your guarded nature. You’d gone to bed replaying snippets of your conversations, confused by how easily he had managed to lower your defenses, even just a little.

But you reminded yourself not to overthink it. Chris was charming, sure, but charm was fleeting.

The following week, you run into Chris in the building’s mailroom. You were sorting through a stack of junk mail when his voice cut through your thoughts.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite neighbor.”

You turn to see him leaning against the doorway, his signature grin firmly in place. “Chris,” you greeted, your tone flat. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Small world, huh?” he jokes, moving closer. He nods toward the bundle of papers in your hands. “Anything good?”

“Unless you count coupon books and credit card offers, not really.”

Chris chuckles. “Exciting stuff. Hey, what are you up to later? My roommates are out, and I was thinking about ordering pizza and watching something. You in?”

You hesitate. You didn’t usually spend time one-on-one with people, especially not guys like Chris. But something about his easy confidence made you feel at ease.

“What’s your definition of ‘something’?” you ask cautiously.

“Anything you want. I’ll even let you pick the movie.”

You pretend to consider. “Fine. But if you make me watch some dumb action flick, I’m leaving.”

“Deal,” Chris said, his grin widening.

You show up at Chris’s apartment later that evening, arms crossed as you survey the empty living room. “Wow, no party tonight? Shocking.”

“Just you and me,” Chris replies, holding up a pizza box. “Hope you like pepperoni.”

You smirk, “Lucky guess.”

The two of you settle onto the couch, the TV casting a warm glow as the opening credits of your chosen movie rolled. Chris was surprisingly attentive, listening to your commentary and laughing at your dry humor. It was...comfortable, in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Alright,” Chris said during a lull in the movie. “Real talk. Why don’t you ever go out?”

You stiffen, your eyes glued to the screen. “What makes you think I don’t?”

“You just seem...I don’t know, like you’re always on guard.” He hesitated, his tone softening. “Not that it’s a bad thing. Just curious.”

You take a deep breath, considering how much to share. “I’ve just had bad experiences,” you finally admit. “With people. It’s easier to keep my distance.”

Chris nods, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. But not everyone’s out to hurt you, you know?”

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter.

“Hey,” he says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “I’m not saying you should trust everyone. But you can trust me. I’m not gonna let you down.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. You want to believe him, but the walls you’ve built around yourself weren’t so easily dismantled.

Over the next few weeks, you and Chris fell into an unspoken rhythm. You started walking home together after class more often, your conversations ranging from sarcastic banter to deeper topics about your goals and insecurities.

Chris was endlessly patient, never pushing you to share more than you were comfortable with. Instead, he focused on making you laugh, filling the silence with stories about his brothers and their ridiculous antics.

One night, after a particularly long day, you found yourself texting him.

Y/N: What are you doing?

Chris: Watching a terrible reality show. You?

Y/N: Bored.

Chris: Come over. I’ll make popcorn.

You hesitate for a moment before typing back.

Y/N: Be there in 10.

Chris was waiting for you at the door, a bowl of popcorn in hand. “You’re lucky I didn’t eat all of this while you took your sweet time.”

“Charming as ever,” you tease, rolling your eyes as you step inside.

The living room was dimly lit, the TV casting a soft glow over the couch where you two usually sat. You plop down, kicking off your shoes, and Chris settles next to you, the bowl of popcorn balanced precariously between you two.

For the first half-hour, the conversation was light, filled with sarcastic banter and commentary on the terrible reality show Chris had insisted on watching. But as the night stretched on and the popcorn dwindled, the atmosphere shifted, becoming softer, quieter.

You lean back into the couch, your head tilting slightly toward Chris as you stare at the screen. You were hyper-aware of how close you were sitting—closer than usual. At first, it had been casual, just the natural result of sharing the couch. But now, your legs were pressed lightly against each other, and neither of you made a move to shift away.

Chris seems to notice it too. His hand, which had been resting casually on his knee, moved slightly closer to your leg, though he didn’t touch you. The silence between you felt heavier than before, charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Do you ever think about where you’ll be in five years?” you ask, breaking the quiet.

Chris’s voice is softer than usual when he responds. “All the time. Honestly, I just want to figure out what I’m passionate about. Do something that matters, you know?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak right away. The warmth of his leg against yours was distracting, sending a strange, unfamiliar flutter through your chest.

“What about you?” he asks, glancing over at you.

You hesitate, your fingers playing with the edge of your sleeve. “I guess...I just want stability. To feel safe, like I’m in control of my life.”

Chris doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, his tone is low and steady. “You’ll get there, Y/N. You’re too smart not to.”

You turn to look at him, and the way his eyes meet yours makes your stomach flip. His expression was so sincere, so open, that it makes you feel exposed in a way you weren't used to.

“Thanks, Chris,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Anytime,” he replies, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile.

As the conversation drifts on, the distance between you two seems to shrink even further. At some point, Chris shifts slightly, leaning back into the cushions, and you find yourself doing the same. Your shoulders brush against each other, and your legs remain pressed together, neither one of you making a move to pull away.

It’s subtle, but it was the first time you have felt something between you and Chris beyond just conversation—a quiet, unspoken connection that makes your heart beat a little faster. You aren’t sure if he feels it too, but Chris’s occasional glances in your direction and the way his voice softens when he speaks suggest that he does.

You and Chris walk home from class, following the natural rhythm you have created when leaving your class.

Chris adjusts the strap of his backpack, glancing over at you. “Do you ever notice how this campus looks so much better in the evening? It’s like the golden hour gives it a personality or something.”

You smile, tucking your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “A poetic frat boy. Who would’ve thought?”

Chris laughs, nudging your shoulder gently with his own. “Hey, don’t box me in. I’m a man of depth.”

“Sure you are,” you tease, rolling your eyes.

As you turn onto the sidewalk leading to your apartment complex, your laughter softens, and a comfortable silence settles between you. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a warm glow that mirrored the way you felt when you were around Chris.

Your thoughts drift as you walk, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet filling the quiet. You glance down at your hands, which are tucked into your jacket for warmth. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Chris shift beside you, his hand brushing against yours briefly before he moves it back to his side.

It happens again a few moments later—a slight, almost accidental touch that sends a jolt through you.

Your heart quickens, and you swallow hard, unsure of what to do. Your mind races with thoughts of past hesitations, but the quiet warmth radiating from Chris’s presence was enough to nudge you out of your own head.

Chris clears his throat, his voice softer than usual. “So, I was thinking… maybe next week we could grab coffee or something? Just the two of us.”

You turn to him, your expression caught between surprise and a tentative smile. “Like we don’t already spend enough time together?” you tease, though your tone lacked its usual edge.

Chris chuckles, his hand brushing yours again—this time lingering just a little longer. “Yeah, but coffee is different. I could use an excuse to hear you roast me more in public.”

You laugh, your cheeks warming despite the chill in the air. “You’re hopeless.”

“And yet, here we are,” he shoots back, grinning.

As your steps slowed near the entrance of your apartment complex, Chris hesitates, his hand hovering just beside yours. This time, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets his fingers lightly graze yours before gently curling them around your hand.

You freeze for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. You look down at your intertwined hands, then up at Chris, who was watching you with a cautious yet hopeful expression.

“I—uh,” you stammer, but your words falter as your heart softens.

Chris’s grip was warm, firm but not overwhelming, like he was waiting for you to pull away if you wanted to. You didn’t.

“It’s just a hand, Y/N,” he says softly, his tone playful but with a vulnerability that makes your chest tighten.

You exhale a shaky laugh, looking back down at your joined hands. “Yeah… just a hand.”

But it wasn’t just a hand. It was the first step—small, simple, but monumental in its own way. You didn’t fully understand why you let yourself take it, but as you walked the rest of the way in silence, hand in hand, you realized you didn’t want to let go.

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yay second part so cute - writing shit like this makes me want it IRL so bad

⭒ margot

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@mattsdillon @hesvoid3434 @admeliora94

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fandom #sturniolo fluff

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 30 days ago

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MOST WANTED II (Gangster!Sukuna x Spy!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

READ PART I WITH MAFIA BOSS!TOJI HERE!

*********

“You’re mine tonight. And if you value your job and your life, you’d better do everything I say.”

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Self-Insert!Reader

Synopsis: After your failed mission with Toji that ended in humiliation—and unwanted hot dreams—, you beg her boss to put you on the next one to bag Sukuna Ryomen, a famous criminal boss and gangster who is wanted for many murders and trafficking jewels. After you’re refused, you go undercover as an escort at a masquerade party to get Sukuna alone and take him in…whether dead or alive. Agreeing to go back with him to his hotel after drinks, flirting and a game of pool, you attempt to complete the mission, but not before Sukuna uncovers your secret and punishes you for lying to him. He’ll show you that nobody fucks with him. And that maybe you’re not as strong or tough as you think you are. Maybe, just maybe…you enjoy being a gangster’s plaything.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Self-Insert!Reader; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized; Flirting; Sexual Tension; Eye-Fucking; Escort!Reader; Agent!Reader; Action/Fighting; Noncon/R*pe; Dubcon; Handcuffs; Knife Play; Dirty Talk; Mask Kink; Daddy Kink; Degradation; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Facefucking; Choking; Slutification; Objectication; Mean Dom!Sukuna + sub!Reader; Doggystyle; Condescending Sweet Talk; Reader Cums 2x; Facial/Cum on Tits; No Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Got another one for y’all & for my fave @curiouscutie143!! We plan on expanding my “Most Wanted” world, probably even to other characters in the future! I had so much fun writing this AND it’s my first ever Sukuna fic! I hope y’all enjoy reading about that mean ol’ nasty man lol. Kisses! 💋-Jazz

*********

You stand in your bathroom mirror, staring at the woman staring back at you who looks like she could use a drink, a good orgasm, and some sleep.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask the woman. She moves her mouth with yours as you speak in the empty bathroom with its tiled walls and hardwood floor. A folder holding your next target sits next to you, a label reading “CLASSIFIED” stamped across the front.

The sound of Friday night in the city—cars honking, someone blasting music from the apartment across from yours—fills the space of your studio apartment. Usually, you would use tonight to order a pizza, watch a movie, or go to the bar across the street to pick up a guy for the night. But tonight, you stand in the mirror in your night slip, hair and makeup already on, getting ready for a party. Not just any party. A masquerade ball. One that is crawling with all kinds of elite figures, celebrities, politicians, business owners…and gangsters.

One of which you have your eye on. You grab the file sitting next to your sink that is littered in traces of makeup, your curling iron sitting unplugged right next to it. You open it with trembling fingers, making it hard to turn the pages. Your anxiety is already taking over. “Stop it,” you mutter to yourself as you finally making it to your target’s photo. You snagged his file a week ago in n secrecy. You had flirted mad hard with one of the file clerks—geeky, unattractive, and painfully awkward—and gave him a hard-on in order to sneak by and get into the file room. It is imperative that your agency have such a room to keep track of your old and new targets.

Ryomen Sukuna is one of the new ones and at the top of your boss’ list in terms of most wanted people. Big in the crime world and well-known for being a “professional killer”, Sukuna is feared in his area of business….which is anything that has to do with crime. Most of his business is underground and unknown to the public, but your agency has been keeping tabs on him for months now ever since other high-demand crime bosses and crooked officials in the city started coming up dead.

According to your team’s findings, Sukuna’s operation stretches across Japan and overseas in New York and London. His men, who are just as devious and dangerous as him, usually do all of his dirty work, including smuggling items and taking out those who threaten Sukuna’s businesses.

But Sukuna isn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty either.

He delves into the areas of illegal drug-smuggling, gun trafficking, imported, exotic seafood, and, mostly recently, jewel smuggling. It seems that Sukuna is a man of history. When a recent thousand-year-old diamond went missing a month ago from a history museum in Tokyo, your boss already had a feeling that Sukuna was behind it. But when a crime boss known for his jewel smuggling wound up dead just a week ago, he knew that Sukuna was most definitely the culprit. The man is like a piranha in the crime world, taking out every other being he deems as weak or a threat to his survival.

But you knew you could get him, especially when you found out that he would be in your city for a masquerade ball to celebrate the presentation of a new line of art worth millions. You knew he was planning something. Possibly even a massacre of potential buyers.

”Let me get him,” you begged your boss. You stood in his office a week ago once the news of Sukuna broke, your hands on your boss’ desk. “I can do this, sir, I promise. I can take care of this for you with my kind of skill.”

Your boss sat behind his desk, looking haggard and exhausted from running such a lucrative company. “V, I already have two agents working on this case.”

“Who?” You asked, but it must’ve came out harsher than you intended because your boss looked at you in alarm. “I won’t disclose that information only because I don’t want you to have any negative feelings towards them as your partners.” You didn’t know what to say. All you could do was stare down at your hands that laid flat on the wooden surface of the desk. “Boss, I can do it,” you said, your voice soft and shaky. You hated sounding so weak.

“It’s not that I don’t think you can do it, V,” he said, his voice gentle but affirmative like a father. “I’m only looking out for your safety and best interest.”

“My best interest,” you scoffed, unable to swallow back your pride or bitterness. “You and I both know that this is about what happened with Toji. You think I can’t handle this just like I couldn’t handle him.”

Your boss looks away from you, staring at his much-needed cup of coffee instead. You feel all of the air rush out of your lungs as he confirms it without confirming it.

It has been five months since your ordeal with Toji Fushigiro. You haven’t caught wind of him since he left you in that strip club, covered in his cum and completely humiliated. The walk of shame back to your apartment after receiving medical attention and a week of paid absence was even worse.

You did nothing but stew in your apartment, filled with bitterness, humiliation, and revenge. You often had dreams of the crime boss, your plump body squeezed between his big arms and his muscular body on top of yours as he drove his cock into you. You would awaken in the night, sweating and your panties soaked in arousal from the flashes of that night.

Toji had ruined you, but he didn’t break you entirely. You knew that you could put the pieces back together and redeem yourself if you got on another mission, which is where Sukuna came in. If you could just convince your boss to put you on this case, you could show him, yourself, and everyone that you were stronger than the likes of Toji.

“Please, sir,” you begged. “What happened with Fushiguro will never happen again. I know what I’m doing. Have I ever failed you before?”

Your boss turned back to face you, his expression apologetic but firm. “V, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” he explains. “You’re the most overqualified agent and hit woman we have here…but what happened with Fushiguro was serious. Your health and safety was seriously threatened.” He pauses, biting his tongue. “What is it?” you pushed, your heart hammering in your chest.

He ran a hand through his graying hair, sighing to himself. “We also found out that Ryomen is a close contact to Fushiguro,” he added. “They had been in business with each other before and worked with the same clients.” He took a sip of his coffee as if to calm himself. “You’re too close to the case, V. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay out of this one and wait until we get another case to put you on.”

That was the end of it. There was no convincing him. You walked out of there with tears in your eyes and feeling exposed to the whole department as the hit woman who became a slut for a crime boss. When you got home that night, you downed a bottle of wine and told yourself that you wouldn’t let this happen. No more self-deprecating or feeling sorry for yourself. No more thinking of Toji, his dirty words, and his big, beautiful cock.

You wouldn’t allow this type of disrespect for ANYONE. So if you were going to redeem yourself, you would do it without your boss’ approval. This is for you now and you alone.

So here you are now, about to go against your boss’ wishes and the rules of your profession by inserting yourself in a case that has nothing to do with you. But you were prepared. You would find Sukuna, seduce him, and turn him into the authorities at means necessary…even if that means making him bleed.

You turn away from the mirror and look down at your vanity stool where your outfit for tonight’s event is laid out nicely for you—a strapless red dress with a slit in the thigh, a diamond set, and red bottom heels. Most importantly, a mask encrusted in diamonds sits waiting for you to put it on.

You pick up the mask and hold it in your hands, feeling the ridges of the diamonds against your fingertip. “Okay,” you say to yourself, feeling adrenaline fill your veins. “Let’s do this.”

**********

When you arrive at the ball, it is in full swing and brimming with luxury, excitement and the energy of the nightlife crowd.

The party is located downtown in a high-end, five star hotel ballroom. It is shockingly easy for you to get in, but then again, as a renowned hit woman, you know exactly how to blend in. All you had to do was slink by while the security guard posted in front of the hotel was busy with another masquerading couple.

As soon as you walk in, you are bombarded by the sound of a live band playing classical music and the aura of luxury. It is all around you—on the snack table where a crystal bowl of punch and champagne flutes sit; in the tasteful decorations of feathers, streamers, and entertainment blowing fire, making the crowd gasp; in the conversations and laughs of the guests decked out in their best designer and masks.

There are so many masks of all colors and kinds, making you blend in perfectly with the crowd. You keep your silver clutch close to your side, your little Glock hidden beneath your lipstick tube switchblade…and your lipstick. You can’t ever leave the house without your MAC.

You begin to look around the room, Sukuna’s face in your mind’s eye. You studied his appearance for days before coming here. Though you have no idea what he’ll be wearing tonight, you know that once you see him, you’ll know that it’s him.

“Drink, ma’am?” a voice suddenly asks. You jump slightly and turn around, finding a smiling waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes. “Oh, yes,” you reply. “Thank you.” You give him a red-lipped smile and take one before he walks away to serve someone else. You might as well drink and try not to act so tense. Any kind of slip and your act will be exposed. You already know Sukuna’s men are slinking around here too.

You decide to walk over to one of the snack tables where a couple stands with their own snack tables, both matching in their rich, violet clothes. You give them a nod as you take a plate, lower your glass on the table, and randomly gather some cheese cubes onto your plate.

Beside you, the male in his gold mask and long, wavy hair, leans in towards his partner. “He’s in here somewhere,” he murmurs. “Keep your eyes peeled.” Immediately, you know exactly who he is. A C.O.D.E. agent. You sneakily eye him and his partner who glares at him behind her leopard-printed mask that somehow meshes with her violet gown. “And keep your mouth shut,” she hisses. “This place is crawlin’ with his men.”

You plop some veggies onto your plate and dribble on some ranch dressing, still listening. “Sorry,” the male mutters. “It’s my first mission, okay? I only got transferred to Japan just a month ago!”

The woman rolls her eyes and drops his arm from hers. “Stay here,” she sighs before she struts off in her heels. Her partner watches her go and you can feel his irritation radiating off of her. “Bitch,” he mutters before he presses down onto his left ear, obviously calling someone. Probably your boss to tell him that he hates his partner and wants to abort the mission. You nearly laugh and have to bite your lip to keep from giggling.

These are the agents your boss sent out tonight to get Sukuna? Them?! This guy was just transferred a month ago from wherever-the-fuck and he’s already messing up! Even on your first mission, you knew to always keep your guard up and act the part, wherever, however.

The male walks away to a nearby table, talking as he does to your boss or someone else at headquarters. You scoff to yourself, actually offended. How could your boss send someone like this ameture on a mission? But you’d show him. You nibble on a broccoli stalk and some cheese as you begin to scan the room, nodding at anyone who passes. Your eyes pass the stage to the far left where the exit into the hotel lobby is.

There, you see him. He is chatting with two men in suits and their own masks, a glass of champagne in his big hand. Each thick finger is inked and adorned in silver rings that wink at you under the bright lights. He is big and tall—about 6’6 at least. His big frame fills out his black suit and tie outfit which is rather plain for such a gaudy party.

But the blackness of his suit makes the pink of his hair, fluffy-looking yet spiked, and his red mask pop. At first glance, his mask reminds you almost of the Devil. It’s a fitting look for him, you suppose. He isn’t flashy, but he still looks rich. Like he has no problem making such a statement with his outfit and red-bottom shoes.

But you doubt that anyone would have anything to say to Sukuna Ryomen about anything he wears.

He tugs on his right ear where several small hoops, including a cartilage piercing, hang. From where you stand, you can see that his neck is roped in tattoos as well. He says something to the men and gives them a smirk before turning and walking through the exit.

You wait until the men depart and drain your champagne before tossing your snacks away. The hunt is on now. Keeping an eye on your fellow agents, you strut across the room to the exit, paying no attention to the gents who have their eyes on your bouncing chest, thighs, and ass. You finally make it to the hotel lobby and quickly scan the area, looking for Sukuna’s broad shoulders and long legs. You immediately find him at the entrance of a bar on the right hand side chatting with a doe-eyed waitress who immediately giggles and guides him into the bar.

You follow, the click of your heels against the marbled floor egging you on. The swanky, dimly-lit bar is damn near packed when you walk in. Most of its patrons are from the ball with the exception of businessmen at happy hour and women in their finest looking to score a rich man for the night. You spot Sukuna sitting at the end of the bar and passing the bartender a twenty-dollar bill for his shot (and bottle) of whiskey. About three stools down is a plump, balding man in a wolf mask and an Armani suit, his face flushed from too much to drink.

Immediately, you get an idea. Smirking to yourself, you strut over to the bar, brazenly staring at both the wolf and Sukuna who both have their eyes on you. You sit down beside the balding wolf, giving him a small smile in greeting. You place your clutch on the bar where you wave your manicured nails at the bartender. “One martini with five olives, please,” you order. The bartender nods and begins to ready your drink.

The wolf, on his fourth or fifth Bourbon, sloppily smirks beside you. Perhaps he thinks it makes him look sexy. “Five olives?” He chuckles. “You storin’ for the winter, Ms. Red?” His eyes graze down your body from behind the eye holes in his mask.

“Just for this party,” you joke. “Why? Do you suggest somethin’ more delicious than olives, Mr. Wolf?” You put a sultry, seductive lilt into your voice, leaning your chin into your hand. You hope Mr. Wolf catches on…which of course, he does.

“If you’re interested in what’s at the snake table, sure,” he replies, his voice low and teasing. He suddenly digs into his pocket, fishing out a twenty. “Here. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t buy her own drink.”

“I appreciate that,” you giggle, taking the money from him just as the bartender returns with your drink. “How can I repay you for such a kind act?” You lean forward and press your tits enticingly against the bar to which Mr. Wolf shamelessly stares at. You think you hear Sukuna scoff behind you, making your neck feel hot. But you don’t dare turn around. Not yet.

Mr. Wolf opens his mouth to say something either dumb or lecherous, but a slender blonde in a cat mask and a skin-tight dress struts up to him. “There you are!” she scoffs, rather loud. “I’ve been calling you nonstop! You dragged me to this damn party and then you just left me alone to come drink some more?”

She is so loud that it drowns out the jazz music playing overhead, catching the eye of the others in the bar. Mr. Wolf lowers his Bourbon, sighing to himself. “Karen, please don’t start,” he mutters, seething with rage. “You begged me to take you here.”

The woman—Karen—ignores him and turns to you. “And who is this?” She demands, scowling at Mr. Wolf. “Another one of your ‘business partners’?” The sound of shocked laughs and whispers drift in the tense, musky air. Mr. Wolf looks at you apologetically as he slides off of his stool, nearly falling. “Sorry,” he whispers. You give him a smile as he walks off with his nagging…girlfriend? Wife? Sugar baby? As if hearing your thoughts, Sukuna answers them for you. “I could’ve told ya he was married,” he chuckles. His laugh is smooth and rich yet deep and lethal, like a shot of whiskey.

You turn to him, raising a brow at him as you sip your martini. “How do you know?” you question. “He didn’t have a ring on his finger.”

Sukuna chortles again as if you’re some dumb little girl he needs to school. “Don’t have to. Rings can come off, ‘specially at events like these.” He takes a sip from his shot glass, eyeing you across the rim. “There’s plenty of pretty women like yourself swimmin’ around here for the pickin’.”

His gaze is hot like fire licking across your exposed skin. The air that Mr. Wolf and his wife left tense becomes even more so. But you straighten your neck and regard him with a smirk. “Like me?” you scoff. “I doubt he could’ve even been able to afford me.”

You take another sip of your martini, leaving a red stain on the rim, before fishing out the toothpick rowed with olives. You pluck one off with your teeth, knowing that Sukuna is watching. ‘Just keep up the act. Hook, line, and sinker.’

“Sooo you’re one of those city girls, huh?” You turn to him, silently asking him to elaborate. “The kind who chase the bag and never look back at the broken hearts they leave behind?” His smirk is playful. Almost sneaky.

“Close,” you reply. You place your toothpick back in the glass and lean in to give him a shot of your cleavage. “Merchandise,” you vaguely explain, accentuating each syllable with your plump, red lips.

Sukuna carefully watches as if attempting to pick your features apart behind your mask. He leans back on his stool, smirking. “So I was right: this is a ‘pay for the night’ situation. I had a hunch.”

“Oh, you did?” you scoff. “You a cop?” He nearly snorts into his glass. “Not even close, mama,” he chuckles. You cock your head to the side, acting curious. “Then what do you do? You already have my occupation, so what kinda work got you here?”

“I thought we were talkin’ ‘bout you,” he smoothly remarks, eyeing you down. “That’s some dress you got on.” You give him a look, standing your ground. Finally, he gives in defeatedly. I’m a…man of all types of businesses. I’m kind of an arts conasor, I guess you could say. I’m big in tradin’, auctions, collectin’…” Trafficking. Criminal activity. Killing. “Cool,” you reply, nodding. “Oh, I’m V, by the way. Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

Sukuna chuckles, his crimson red alight with mischief. “Well, I know you’re fine,” he jokes. “Little spitfire, ain’t ya?” You can tell he likes your wittiness. Most men like him do. “Apologies, V. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He puts his big, ringed hand out for a shake. You take it, ignoring the zing of electricity that shoots up your arm as his fingers clasp yours. “Sukuna,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper than before. Quickly, you take your hand away and place it in your lap. If he notices, he doesn’t act like it, instead lighting himself a cigar. “Mind if I smoke?” he asks, regarding you with those blood-red eyes. You shake your head. “Not at all. So what brings you to this riveous party, Sukuna?”

Your target wraps his lip, pierced lips around the cigar, inhaling before exhaling the smoke. “Business. Money. Potential clients and partnerships. I ain’t much of a party person as I’m sure you can tell.” He gives you a smirk. “I’m guessin’ you’re here for business too?” You chuckle, liking his blunt humor. “I got a call from a regular client of mine to come here. He’s a big-time CEO—the owner of a chain of gas companies. He asked me to come here, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

You come up with the lie on the spot and make a show of looking around for your imaginary client. “Hope he’s not playin’ me out,” you huff. “He’s been generous before, but he’s also generous with other women much younger than me.”

“Well, I’d be glad to give ya some company,” Sukuna says. “Between you and me, that guy sounds like a dickhead for even invitin’ you here.” You tilt your head at him, curiously and flirtatiously. “Why is that?” you ask.

Sukuna takes another drag of his cigar, and as the smoke escapes his nostrils, he looks so much like the Devil appearing in a gray cloud to you. ‘Cause this place is crawlin’ with guys like me. And I always get what I want.” He gives you a white-toothed smile that sends shivers down your spine and suddenly, your facade slips a bit.

But not until you’re fortunately distracted. “Sukunaaaa!” someone suddenly shouts from the other side of the bar. He is in a fox mask and black suit with a red tie, standing among other powerful and rich-looking men. “Come! Play a game with us!” The other men agree, shouting him over.

You and Sukuna share a look, him looking like he wants to be anywhere but over there. “Come on,” you chuckle. “I don’t know how to play, but I’ll watch you. I can be your good luck charm.” You sip on your martini as you rise to your feet, waiting for him to follow. After some thought, Sukuna gets up, standing a whole head taller than you. “If ya say so, but be prepared for looks.”

Together, you walk side by side over to the pool table. Just as he said, you gain the curious eye of every man surrounding the pool table, cigars and drinks in hand. The entire area smells of cigar smoke and expensive cologne. Wealth. Sukuna introduces you to the men and you pretend to act flattered as the men kiss your hand and compliment you on your dress.

You stand among them and drink your martini, sizing up Sukuna and his gang. You don’t know if any of them are “his people”, but you stay on guard anyway, sipping as little alcohol as you can. You watch them play pool together, laughing when you’re supposed to and answering questions when asked but not giving too much about yourself away.

Sukuna is pretty quiet most of the time, primarily focused on the game. He is very meticulous; a strategist at pool. His long fingers twirl around his pool stick, his eyes sizing up each player and the eight balls that roll this way and that along the green table. He is good, you admit. He knows just where to shoot and how to do it, betting on each ball with the probability of an expert.

But Mr. Crane—a banker in a crane mask and dark blue suit—is on his ass having gotten close in points. He stands there laughing and joking about while Sukuna sizes him up. “Oooh, I think you’ve got some competition, Mr. Sukuna,” you whisper. “He’s winning.”

Your target grunts in disagreement. “Not for long,” he growls. “I don’t ever lose.” You hum to yourself, staring up at him through your lashes. “You sure about that?”

Now Sukuna turns to you fully and you realize just how tall he is. You have to stand back a bit to even look at him. “Do me a favor,” he purrs, his eyes hooded from the smoke. “Wager somethin’ with me.”

Your heart thunders in anticipation for his next words..but you don’t expect them even when they come out. “If I win this game, you ditch that client who stood ya up and spend the night with me.”

Sukuna’s tatted hand goes for his pocket, patting it. “And trust me, mama: I’ve got the money for it.” A shit-eating grin crosses his lips, showing you the two gold canines embedded in his lower row of teeth.

”And if you lose?” you ask, alarmed by how breathless you sound. Sukuna passively shrugs. “Then I’ll buy you a drink and slip ya the money anyway.” You take a moment to think on this. He could be lying. He could be testing you. But figuring you’ve got a weapon, you agree by clinking your glass with his. “Deal.”

Sukuna’s smile grows, almost looking joyous at your agreement. The game continues and you watch with bated breath as he and Mr. Crane go head to head. You sip your martini, not even noticing how less tense you seem from the alcohol or how bright the lights have become or how hot you seem or how Sukuna shoots the last two balls into a pocket because Mr. Crane missed. Oh, shit. You gape at the astonished player and then at Sukuna. He turns to you, prideful and giddy. “Oh, would you look at that,” he whispers. “I win.” You get a bad, bad feeling in your gut, but you ignore it. Big mistake on your part.

You swallow hard, fixing your mouth into a flirty smile. “So how would you like to spend the night with me, Mr. Sukuna?”you ask. The gangster shrugs, acting clueless. “I dunno…dancing, drinking, or your legs wrapped around my head. It’s your choice.” Suddenly, the obvious sexual tension that has been in the air erupts as soon as the vulgar words are out in the open. You feel your tongue become heavy and your nipples harden beneath your dress. You ignore it all. You can’t be hot over this criminal. Not again!

“You stayin’ here?” you ask though you already know the answer. He nods, his expression lustful. “Let’s get out of here then. I’d like to come back and get some cake from the party though.”

He nods again and lays a hand on your lower back, leading you out of the bar and into the lobby where you walk to the elevators. When you’re finally alone with him behind the elevator doors, you momentarily think about sliding your gun out of your clutch and shooting him, ending this now.

But when his hand slowly slides down your backside to grip your ass, you bite your lip and hold firm. ‘Not yet. In time.’ Finally, the elevators open up onto a hotel suite that looks more like a penthouse. There is a foyer in the middle of the room with glass tables, a private bathroom near the exiting door, plush furniture overlooking a flat-screen, and a small kitchenette with an attached island and mini-bar.

Your heels click as you walk into the suite, admiring the luxurious room. “Nice setup,” you comment. You twirl around to face Sukuna as the elevator doors shut. You’re glad you remembered to wear gloves. You don’t need to leave any fingerprints here. “It’s a little small for my tastes.” Sukuna strides toward you, reaching you in about three steps on his long legs. “But then again, I don’t use this room to sleep.”

Silently, he takes you by the hand and leads you into the large bedroom suite on the right hand side. The walls are painted an indigo blue, giving the room a calm sensation that the king-sized bed in the middle doesn’t. Two plush armchairs sit across from it near a balcony overlooking the city beyond, the moonlight shining onto the bed’s crossed ceiling and bedposts guarding each side of the headboard and the bottom of the bed.

You turn to Sukuna to say something, anything to take the edge off of you, but you’re silenced when he takes a seat at the end of the bed. He sits with his legs spread and his hands in his lap. Even from here, you can tell that he is hard—his dick print is pulsing beneath his slacks. “Take that off,” he demands. “Let me see you.”

Showtime. You lay your clutch down near your feet within arm’s reach before you reach back to slooooowly unzip your dress. The beautiful, red garment slips off of you, leaving you in your strapless corset, panties, and nylon stockings. All trimmed with lace. All sexy. You purposely chose this outfit because the corset lifts your breasts in a way that is enticing and your panties hug your ass, making it plumper and much fatter.

Sukuna gives a sharp intake of breath before he takes off his jacket and starts reaching for his tie. You chuckle though your blood runs hot. “Oh, startin’ already? I didn’t take you as the eager type.” The gangster smirks, yanking his tie off of his throat. “And I didn’t take you as a liar,” he replies.

You blink at him, startled by his words. “W-What?” you stammer. Sukuna continues to strip, unbuttoning each button on his top. “You agreed to let me do whatever I want if I win. I’m askin’ you to take off everything. Includin’ the mask.” He still gives you that humored smirk as his top comes off, revealing a tattooed chest and big, muscular arms to you roped in ink.

You can feel your anxiety peaking. Your stomach is roiling and you feel sick. “I’m not taking off the mask,” you firmly say. Now Sukuna’s smile fades. He looks confused as if he can’t figure you out. “You disobey me?” he asks.

You swallow, not liking how that sounds. “I’m just not comfortable with that. I don’t want you seeing me. It’s something I do with every client.” You keep up with your role, hoping that he’ll take that as an answer…but you’re wrong. He fixes you with a laser-hot look that you don’t like. “You sure?” he asks. “Or are you just tryna save yourself from your sinkin’ ship?”

“What are you talking about?” you snap, glaring at him. You stagger back as he suddenly gets up and walks over to the nightstand. As he does, you quickly unzip your gun and place it behind you in the waistband of your panties. Better to be ready than not at all.

Sukuna turns to you then, holding a glittering diamond wrapped in cloth in his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight of the stolen jewel from the museum. “This is what you want, right?” he asks. “This is what you’re lookin’ for?” His smirk grows into something menacing and almost mocking. “Or is it me you’re lookin’ for, V? It is V, right?”

‘Oh, my God. Not again.’

Sukuna knows he’s got you judging by the deer-in-headlights look you’re sporting on your face despite the mask. “Can I ask you what your plan was tonight?” he asks. Not waiting for an answer, he continues: “What, you thought you’d seduce me, get me up here, suck my dick a bit, and then slap some cuffs on me so you can save the day?”

He snorts at the mere thought of it, the diamond still in his palm. “Stupid girl. I know all about you. Toji and I are close in this business.” He begins to walk toward you, slowly and teasingly like a serial killer who takes joy in scaring his victims before the final kill. He told me aaall about how he used that pussy till it was sore and got away in the end.”

You grow hot at the vulgarity of his taunting words, even more so at the fact that your cover has been blown again. “So what now?” you ask, dropping the act entirely. “You gonna kill me?”

Sukuna places the diamond on a nearby dresser right where a few bottles of wine sit. “I should…but I won’t. After all, we’re up here now.” His eyes grow dark and lustful, frightening you. “So I’m gonna do just what I planned to do: I’m gonna fuck you like I paid for you.” And he definitely is a man who will act on what he says.

Quickly, you take the gun out of your panties and aim it at him. Sukuna stops moving, standing as still as a statue. “Stand back,” you growl. “You come any closer and I’ll put a bullet in you.” One finger sits on the trigger, ready to press down at any given moment.

Anyone else would cry, flinch, beg for their lives…but not Sukuna. He is as stone cold as the look in his eyes. He takes another step toward you, then another, until his chest is pressed against the barrel of your gun. “Do it,” he growls. “I fuckin’ dare you, bitch. Shoot me.”

And so you do. Despite your hammering heart and shaky hand, you pull the trigger….only to hear a click. You pull again, hearing a click. Nothing. “What?” you whisper to yourself, staring at your gun. It’s the perfect advantage for Sukuna to take, which he does by slapping you dead in your face.

With a shout, you fall to the ground, your gun clattering to the floor. You check your lip for blood, finding only smudged lipstick. This motherfucker ruined your makeup! “Slipped into your clutch while you were chattin’ with that wolffish slob,” he explains, grinning evilly at you. “You’d think a hitwoman would be a little more savvy.”

Now you’re angry. He’s insulting your intelligence. Embarrassing you. Humiliating you. “Oh, I am,” you snarl. “I was gonna go easy on you, but now…I’m just gonna make you bleed. Do not ever underestimate me, dickhead.”

You lunge at him and grab onto his belt, using all your might to yank him down onto the floor. As soon as he’s down, you place your arm over his stomach and leap onto him, straddling him. Ignoring his smile and handsome features, you raise a hand to punch him, but his hand shoots out to grab your neck.

You grunt, trying to break his hold which he uses as a distraction to pull you off of him. Back onto the floor you go with the gangster on top of you. He forces your wrists at the top of your head, his big hands gripping and pinning them down to the floor.

“Nice try,” he chuckles, his big body pressing into yours. “I’ve seen better though.”

You try to buck him off, but he wedges one knee between your plump, soft inner thighs, his belt buckle pressing into your pelvis bone. You gasp, feeling suffocated. “St-Stop!” you stammer. “Don’t—“ You’re rudely cut off as his knee glides against your crotch, giving you a spark of pleasure. A soft moan leaves your lips followed by a rush of hot embarrassment.

Sukuna notices, his crimson eyes glinting like a cat’s in the night. “Oh,” he coos. “Was that a moan, babygirl? You like this?” He rolls his hips down into yours, unfortunately causing that same spark of pleasure to explode in your core. He cackles, overjoyed by this. “Maybe this is what you came here for: to get fucked by a gangster. I’m better than Toji though. I promise you that.”

He sits fully on top of you, straddling your waist, and reaches for your clutch. “Let’s see what ya got in here, shall we?” He turns your clutch over, causing each content of it to fall out onto the floor. Your lipstick and switchblade. Your phone. Your powder compact. And a pair of silver handcuffs.

Sukuna’s brow raises in interest and he gives you a smile that makes you damn near sick. He snatches the cuffs before you can reach them and suddenly gets off of you. Before you can wonder what’s happening, he flips you over onto your stomach and begins yanking you across the floor by your ankles. An animalistic grunt leaves your lips as you try to grab onto something to slow your trip, but it’s to no avail.

So you begin trying to kick him, hitting his arm and his leg. You try to get his balls, but you end up getting his knee. “Oooh, bratty!” he cackles. “I’m gonna have some fun with you, whore. You’re dressed for the part already.”

He is rough with you now, taking great pleasure in your shouts of pain and desperation. Finally, he forces you over to the nearest bedpost and yanks on your wrists. You wriggle and squirm, trying to escape him, but you can’t do much when the cuffs are clicking around your wrists.

Clank, clank.

You panic, trying to shake your wrists out, but the chain linking the cuffs together are looped around the bedpost. You are trapped. Sukuna stands back with his hands up his hips, admiring his handiwork. “There we go,” he chuckles. “Nice and tight. You look so good for me right now.”

You turn to stare at him, on your knees and cuffed to the post. “Fuck you,” you growl. His smirk grows along with his cock in his pants. “Oh, not yet, mama, but I’m glad you’re so eager.”

You begin to scream and clatter the cuffs around, making as much noise as you can to alert someone. Anyone. But when the familiar barrel of a gun presses into your backside, you pipe down. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls. “You’re mine tonight. And if you value your job and your life, you’d better do everything I say.”

He uses the gun to press it underneath your chin and turn you to face him. “Understand?” he growls, his red eyes glaring. You know better than to argue or scream or curse. So you swallow your pride and everything you learned from C.O.D.E. training. “Y-Yes,” you whimper.

Sukuna’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree at your obedience. “‘Yes, sir’ is the correct response, but I’ll let you off this one time.” He keeps his gun in his hand, but doesn’t aim it at you anymore. “Now if you wanna do somethin’ else with that mouth besides complain and talk shit, I’ve got an idea.”

His smile fades as he watches you watch him, his gaze molten hot and lustful. You have no choice but to watch him unbuckle his pants with one hand and pull his cock out. Your eyes widen at inch at his long, thick, pulsing shaft protruding from a nest of pink curls.

“Suck my cock,” he demands, his tone firm and serious. “Apologize to me for all of the lies and deceit. Oh, and look up here while you do it.”

You feel your eyes watering and your lips quivering. Everything in you is screaming at you not to comply…but there is one part nesting in the deepest, darkest depths of your being that is interested and curious. The same part of you that emerged in that VIP room with Toji five months ago.

Swallowing your pride, you start by kissing and licking along Sukuna’s shaft, introducing yourself to his cock. He softly groans and hums in enjoyment at your ministrations, pushing his hips forward.

He does so in a way that makes his cock slip between your lips and in your mouth without your permission. You gasp as his thick cock passes the threshold of your mouth, the taste of him all over your tongue. “That’s a good girl,” he moans, using one hand to grab the back of your head.

He pushes you forward onto his dick, taking him deeper into your mouth. You force yourself to open your throat and to breathe through your nostrils in an effort not to choke. He’s about as big as Toji with a thick, bulbous head, heavy balls, and—

Click.

Your eyes tick up to see Sukuna with your phone in his face, the gun now in his pocket. How did he break your code? Did he use Face ID? His cock slips out of your mouth and you take a moment to gasp in some air. “What are you—?”

“Just givin’ you some encouragement and persuasion,” he cuts in, smirking. “After all, you need to do a good job, don’t you? And I would just hate for your boss to somehow see this if you—“

“Don’t!” you cry, tears springing into our eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it! Just don’t send anything!” You want to shield yourself from the camera eye of your phone, but you can’t. You can’t do anything.

Sukuna keeps the camera on you, the threat of pictures or videos looming over you. “Open up then,” he growls. “And don’t even think about usin’ teeth…but you’re a good, smart girl, so I doubt you’ll try it with me.”

His cock pulses in front of you and you shiver. You don’t know if it’s out of repulsion or excitement. Either way, you suck on his cock like you mean it, hollowing your cheeks to take him easier. Sukuna lets out a loud, throaty groan, one hand tangled in your hair.

“That’s it, mama,” he groans. “Take that fuckin’ cock. Y’know, you’re better at this than ya are fightin’.” He pushes in deeper, making you gag and nearly triggering that button in the back of your throat to vomit. “You should think about changin’ occupations…bein’ a little cocksucker is way more fittin’ for ya.”

He begins to fuck your face now, slowly at first, but he is still brutal and rough. You have to force yourself to keep breathing to avoid throwing up all over his dick. “You could be my little cocksucker,” he growls. “My cock slut. My whore. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

You gurgle and gag in response, your throat forced to flex around his cock interrupting its natural state. You feel as if your throat and mouth are being molded into his personal fleshlight with the way he fucks your face, grunting and groaning like a desperate man. His balls slap against your chin, filling your nose with the scent of his cologne and his cock.

You’ve never been used in such a way. You are being resorted to nothing but a toy. A hole for his own use. Saliva drips from your chin and down onto your tits, making you slick and messy…just like another part of you between your thighs. The more he fucks, the more your cunt throbs and pulses in anticipation for it to be fucked the same way.

What is wrong with you?

You can only ask yourself this question more as Sukuna’s thrusts grow rougher and stronger, his fingers digging into your scalp. “Fuck, baby,” he grunts. “You’re about to make me cum. You’d better fuckin’ take it…take it, bitch!”

Finally, with a few more brutal thrusts that steal your air away, Sukuna lets out a loud moan and cums deep down your throat. Your moans of protest and shock are muffled as his cock pushes deep, ropes of warm cum shooting down your throat.

“Take it,” he pants. “Take my fuckin’ cum. I know you want all of it.” He begins to rock his hips slowly, riding out his orgasm as he gives you more and more of his spunk. You take all of it because what other choice do you have?

When he finally pulls away, a string of cum-mixed saliva attaches itself to your bottom lip. He grips your chin, forcing you at look at him. “Show me your mouth,” he demands. “I wanna see it. Stick out your tongue and don’t let a single ounce drop.”

You do as he says, carefully sticking out your tongue so he can see the pool of cum on it. He smiles, patting your cheek. “That’s a good girl. Now swallow.” And like an obedient puppet, you close your mouth and swallow his cum before he gives you a long, wet, open-mouthed kiss that steals your breath away.

When he pulls away, he honestly looks…softer. Like he’s in love with what he sees. “Now,” he coos, wiping a drop of spit off of your lips with his thumb, “let me give you a reward for such a job well done.”

You let him grab your arm and force you onto your feet. Your body feels unbalanced and your legs are wobbly. To some degree, you’re thankful for the support of the post to hold you up as Sukuna’s big hands glide down your ass and thighs. Then, suddenly, you feel his breath caressing your asscheeks and something cool on your skin.

You realize what it is when you feel your panties slice off of your body. A knife. “Please,” you whimper. Sukuna chuckles, humored by your humiliation and fear. “Don’t fret, mama. This is just to get these panties off…if you’re good, that is.” He presses the cool metal of the knife into your thigh, making you feel the jagged edges.

“You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?” he whispers, a wicked smile in his voice. He doesn’t give you the chance to answer before lightly licking you against your slit. You gasp, your wrists straining against the cuffs. His big hands glide up to force your hips back, causing your ass to jut into his face.

Sukuna hums in enjoyment, licking and sucking away at your pussy that seems to grow wetter with every ministration of his tongue. How is he so good at this? You try to hold back your moans, but you can’t. Plus, the knife against your thigh doesn’t allow you. One wrong move or something that he doesn’t like and that knife could be cutting your skin.

So let him do as he pleases. But you don’t really have a choice either. All you can do is grip the pole you’re shackled to as Sukuna sucks on your pussy lips and swirls his tongue around your clit before he dips the muscle inside of you. Your mouth falls open on a loud moan, his soft lips cushioning your clit. Your thighs begin to quiver and you feel your body shake in pleasure.

You hate how good this feels. And you especially hate that the man you hate is making you feel this good.

Sukuna lightly pulls on your pussy lips, earning a whimper from you. “Isn’t this so much better than fightin’ me, baby?” he asks before French kissing your cunt once again. He kisses you sloppily and messily, his tongue licking and sliding this way and that. “Fuckin’ slut,” he growls, gripping your asscheek and giving it a smack. “You’re so desperate for me. It’s what you should be.”

He moves the knife to your lower stomach, pressing the tip into your lace bra. Your pulse jumps as you feel it puncture a hole in it, ruining the bra and grazing against one of your breasts. “Please,” you whine. “Please!”

Sukuna smiles, still licking and sucking your pussy with all of the vigor of a hungered man. “I like you beggin’,” he replies. “Do it again for me. Beg real pretty for me, slut.” You have no choice when he continues on slurping on your cunt and fucking your hole, his nose swiping against your clit.

“Please, please, please!” you sob. “Please let me cum!” Your begging must satisfy Sukuna because his tongue moves a little faster, his pace causing your body to quake against the restrictions of the cuffs. His hot, wet mouth causes your orgasm to wash over you quickly yet powerfully, controlling every part of your body. You let out a whine of pleasure as your cum explodes in Sukuna’s mouth, drenching his lips and chin in your juices.

The aftershocks come and your body starts writhing, causing you to grip the pole for dear life. Sukuna hums in satisfaction, cleaning you up as you writhe for him. Finally, when the aftershocks subside, you slump against the pole, your knees nearly giving out. Sukuna pulls away from you finally and lovingly strokes your ass. “Good little slut,” he coos in his deep voice. “But we ain’t done yet so you’d better get it together.”

Instantly, your stomach grows fluttery with butterflies and your core grows warm. You know exactly what is coming next. You can’t stop. You can’t avoid it. And more frighteningly, you’re not even sure if you don’t want it.

Sukuna stands behind you and places one foot between yours to widen your legs out. His knife glides up your side to your neck to come across your throat. You freeze as soon as you feel the cold metal touch your tender, warm skin. Sukuna chuckles into your ear as his other hand plays with your wet pussy. “What a thrill, huh?” he hisses. “You ain’t been thrilled yet till you’ve gotten me.”

You concur. You can’t help but to do so when he finally slides that big, thick, long cock inside of you. Slick and open from your orgasm, he slides right in and makes his home between your velvety walls. He groans into your ear while your mouth falls agape on a silent moan.

You feel stretched. You feel full. You feel used. And you feel absolutely, positively amazing. Sukuna digs his nails into the fleshy part where your ass meets your hip, his fingers fondling your tummy. “Fuck!” he grunts into your ear, panting hotly. Even he can’t get a grip on himself. Your pussy feels too good wrapped around him, stroking him of all he’s worth.

He drops the knife, no longer needing it, and your body relaxes…until the blade is replaced with his hand. “Take it,” he demands. “Take that fuckin’ cock. You know you need it.” His other hand grips your stomach, kneading the plushy, soft flesh as he fucks into your wet heat. “So let me give it to you,” he huffs. “Lemme give you everything that slutty pussy needs.”

His hips hammer harder and faster into your ass, making it quiver and recoil. Your moans are loud and high-pitched, unable to be silenced due to Sukuna’s pistoning thrusts. He fucks you like a machine, pumping in and out, out and in, his cock pulsing inside of you. “F-Fuck!” you stammer. “Wait, Sukuna! You’re going t-too fast!”

Your pussy feels like it’s going into overload, being stuffed too much and too quickly. Tears spring into your eyes as Sukuna grips your throat tighter, cutting off your air for just a moment. “Quiet!” he snaps. “Sluts don’t talk. They only take dick. They take all that’s given to them and they’re thankful for it.”

Short moans and gasps leave your lips as he continues to squeeze, still fucking you dumb. Your knees buckle and your head feels fuzzy from the overstimulation and his hand gripping your throat. The pleasure somehow mounts to astronomical heights because of this, leaving you a dumb, mindless mess.

Sukuna presses his lips to your ear, his lip ring cool against the shell of your ear. “So tell me thank you. Say “thank you, Daddy, for givin’ me that dick. Thank you for fuckin’ me so good. Thank you for makin’ me your little cock whore”.” He loosens his hold on your neck, allowing you time to breathe. But you can’t breathe. You can’t even speak. Your mind is full of cock, unable to focus on anything but Sukuna’s big thighs against yours and his dick pummeling into you.

His hand grips your neck again, tighter this time, and you gag. “Say it!” he demands, roaring into your ear. “Say the fuckin’ words!” This time, he doesn’t release your neck, so you’re forced to get the words out with his fingers pressing into your throat. Fat, wet tears drip from your lashes, wetting your cheeks behind your mask.

“Thank you!” you sob out, finally broken. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you for giving me your dick! T-Thank you for…for…!” You trail off, your words turning into a desperate moan as you feel the knot in your core tighten.

You’re about to cum. Your target, this gangster, a lowdown, dirty criminal, is going to make you burst all over his big, fat cock as if you’re his lover and he’s deserving of all of it. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you warn. “Please, please let me cum, Daddy! I can’t take it!”

You grip the cuffs for dear life as he fucks and fucks and fucks you. Your knuckles turn white, an indication of the pleasure you’re experiencing. Sukuna chuckles, enjoying your torture. “Aww, but the fun just started, baby,” he condescendingly coos. “You gonna cum already? Is this gangster cock just too good?” You whimper in response, your eyes fluttering closed.

Smack!

Sukuna slaps your ass hard, making it sting. “I don’t hear an answer,” he growls. His thrusts grow quick and brutal, turning your pussy into mush and making your clit sing. “Yes! Yes, it feels so fucking good!” you babble.

“Cum on it then,” he orders. “Give Daddy what he wants. Fucking cum for me now, V.” He continues this brutal, controlling pace with one hand gripping your throat and the other on your ass, drilling into your pussy and against your G-spot with all of the mercy of a sinner.

It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to snap. “Oh, fuck!” you whine, damn near screaming for all to hear as you cum hard around Sukuna’s cock. Your orgasm hits you hard and intensely, sending you on a trip as you thrash in Sukuna’s hands and against the post.

Your pussy grips him tighter than a vice as you cream him, coating him from his cockhead to his balls in your juices. He grunts in pleasure by how tight you’ve grown, gripping and stroking him until he has no choice but to cum. Before he can, he pulls out of you and forces you down onto your knees. You’re so weak that you go tumbling down like a baby deer still weak on its hind legs.

“Look at me.” You stare up into Sukuna’s eyes, now facing the man behind the red mask. He has taken it off, revealing his handsome face and strange, tatted stripes on his cheeks. He furiously pumps his slick cock with one hand while he uses the other to rip off your mask. You’re too weak and spent to protest or fight him off.

His face grows red and glistens in sweat from the fury of his pumping, his arm tense as he jerks himself off in front of you. “Take me,” he demands. “Take my cum, my good little whore.” With a few more pumps, he finally bursts with a roar of pleasure, his head flying back as he shoots his spunk all over your face and tits.

You gasp as the warm liquid hits your face, dripping down your cheeks, lips, neck, and juicy tits, making your skin sobbing wet and sticky with him. Your breath comes out in short puffs of air as you recover from the vigorous fucking, completely spent. And ruined.

Sukuna deeply exhales, relaxed and satisfied. “Not bad, little girl,” he chuckles. “I haven’t cum that hard in a minute.” You watch as he picks up his knife and begins to redress himself like nothing happened, fastening his buttons and his belt. Like this was just a quickie and nothing more.

When he finishes, he smirks down at you as he fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Look at you, all messy,” he tuts. “Didn’t your boss teach ya to clean up after yourself?”

He kneels down and begins dabbing his cum off of your face, but not your tits. You already know you look crazy—mascara dripping, lipstick smudged, foundation fucked up. You eyeball Sukuna as he finishes cleaning you up. Even when he takes the key to the cuffs out of your clutch and releases you, you still glare at him like you’re trying to kill him with your eyes.

He tuts, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, now don’t look so glum. Here, I’ve got a present for you for your hard work.” He gives you a wink before walking over to the nightstand, leaving you to recover on the floor.

Slowly, you put your dress back on, hissing at the burn of your hands and wrists from the cuffs. You do your best to keep the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at bay. You’re almost dressed when Sukuna comes back to you and presents you with the diamond, covering it with the cloth.

You’re stunned into silence for a while, even as he places the rock in front of you and then backs away. He watches you as you watch the diamond, half expecting it to blow up or something…but it doesn’t. Immediately, you feel enraged. “So you’re gonna give me that and what? Let me go?” You laugh, dry and loud. “Was the pussy that good that now you feel bad?”

Immediately, Sukuna’s hand is wrapped tight in your hair. He grips it and yanks you up, making you shout in pain. He brings you up an inch away from his irritated, crimson eyes. “Don’t get too cocky, bitch,” he hisses. “This ain’t about how hard you made me bust or how good you looked takin’ my cock. This is about teachin’ you a lesson.”

Your body tenses and grows cold. As if sensing this, Sukuna soothes your fears. “I’m not gonna kill you,” he explains. “Instead, I’m gonna give you that stupid rock you wanted and you can explain all to your boss about how you saved the day to get it…but only you’ll know what it took. Only you’ll know how you failed again.”

He leans in, smirking. “And that cuts deeper than any knife.” And it does. Already, you feel gutted than Toji made you feel. You’re bleeding out all over the floor, humiliated. Broken. Destroyed. You have failed again.

Sukuna’s smirk grows wider and he loosens his grip on your hair. “But I like you,” he chuckles. “And I don’t like a lot of people, so I’ll throw ya a sweetener: if we ever cross paths again and you get tired of bein’ a hero, you can come kick it with me. Be my little slut and my partner.”

He leans in, giving your neck a long lick, making you whine. “How’s that sound, doll?” he whispers, stroking your cheek. You don’t answer. If anything, you feel like spitting in his face. “I’ll let you sit on it, but my offer stands. Till we meet again, V.”

He gives you a wink and releases you before fastening his mask onto his face. You watch as he turns to leave, unable to take him from behind. You’re too weak and too defeated to do so. “Feel free to use the shower!” he calls, and then you hear the elevator ding.

So you do. Once he is gone and the hotel suite is now yours, you drag yourself to the luxurious bathroom, undress, and take a scalding shower to wash Sukuna’s cum, your ruined makeup, and tonight’s mistakes off of you. You use as much of the floral-scented body wash as you can, washing, scrubbing, and rinsing until your fingers and toes are pruned.

But even that isn’t enough. When you end your long, hot shower, you feel just as dirty as when you walked into it. You then steal one of the plush hotel robes left by the shower and drag yourself back into the hotel room, leaving the floor a mess with your discarded items. The only thing you pick up is your phone.

There, several calls from your boss wait for you. “Shit,” you mutter to yourself. Is it possible Sukuna sent him something anyway? Only one way to find out.

With your mind made up and your heart pounding, you press on your boss’ contact and wait for him to answer, each dial tone making your anxiety peak. Finally, he answers. “V, Thank God!” he exclaims. “I’ve been calling you for hours! Where the hell have you been?! The agents that I put on the Sukuna case told me you’re at the party and Sukuna’s file is gone. V, are you there right now?”

You don't answer for a moment, too busy staring at the diamond sitting next to your discarded mask. Both signs of your failure. Tears begin to rise to the surface again, but this time, only one falls. You can’t fool yourself anymore.

“V!” your boss shouts. “V, answer me! Where are you right now?”

“I’m sorry, boss,” you choke out, wiping your cheek. “I’m going to have to resign.”

TO BE CONTINUED.

#sukuna x black reader #sukuna x reader #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #plus sized reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #my commissions #my one shots

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allisquish · 2 months ago

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Gold-plated Silver Lining

Or, Stan's reflections on you taking his family in after Gideon steals the deed to the Shack at the end of season 1.

Was in the middle of a Gravity Falls rewatch, and this idea held me hostage. Just a bit of a drabble, but I'd like to play in the universe more (and write something with that one Soos'swith Stan and Soos's abuela but uuuuuh replace her with the reader). Admittedly, I haven't written fic in forever, so uhhh, enjoy??

Now in 4 parts

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

-----

Stan glanced out of the kitchen, watching you and the twins pile onto your couch in the living room. They snuggled up on either side of you as some movie played on the tv. After everything fell apart with Gideon and the deed to the Shack... Stan counted himself beyond lucky that you loved the twins as much as you do.

You and the kids had taken a shine to each other as soon as they had arrived at the Shack. You joined them in their shenanigans right along with Soos and Wendy. At th time, Stan was grateful to have an adult around to help wrangle Dipper and Mabel. As much as Stan did like his employees, Soos and Wendy weren't exactly what he'd call responsible.

Hell, Stan wouldn't even use that term to describe himself.

But now? Stan forever indebted to your unending well of kindness. No one else in town would've opened up their home to him and the twins the way you have. Who would still be trying so hard to create a silver lining out of storm clouds. To make sure th twins could enjoy their summer, despite everything.

Stan didn't know how much longer their summer in Gravity Falls would be.

He spoke quietly to the twins' parents on the phone. He explained the situation and assuaged their fears (and his own) best that he could.

"Put them up in this amazing four star hotel!" He omitted about your tiny shoebox apartment. They didn't need to know that the only thing keeping Stan off the streets was the kindness of an employee.

Former employee.

"What? Sure, we got plenty to eat." He assured, opening your fridge to reveal a pack of pitt soda, a few condiments and take out containers.

"Relax, if I thought I couldn't take care of these kids, I'd send them back to you, right away." He finished up the phone call, holding back a sigh.

"Grunkle Stan! Pizza's here!" Mabel called, announcing the arrival of the pizza you'd bought for them.

He put your phone away, standing once more on the threshold of the kitchen, watching you with the kids. You let Dipper and Mabel fill their plats first, before setting aside a forth plate of pizza. Only then did you make a plate for yourself. He couldn't quiet place or name the feelings that churned and tightned in his chest. You were always taking care of those around you first, selfless in your actions.

...Maybe it was time he did the same.

#stan pines x reader #stanley pines x you #stan pines x you #stanley pines x reader #my fic

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

Note

Steve telling robin about this girl who he’s spoken to a few times and reallly wants to ask out and she’s a big hype man for his love quest. But then he comes in one day to see robin very innocently flirting with you bc she doesn’t know you’re the girl Steve’s talking about. So queue shenanigans of him trying to get robin away in anyway that won’t make you think he’s weird, but maybe he’s going to trip her over or something so he can tell her that’s you and she can be his wingman instead, just a funny shenanigans plot haha

Steve doesn't think twice about the bell to the shop tinkling over the door from where he's rewinding tapes in the back. He watches the picture rapidly flit from scene to scene of Pretty in Pink, until the credits appear and he ejects the VHS from the player. He slides it into its sleeve, but then he hears your voice, a sound that breaks him out of the monotony of his job, and has his feet moving towards the door of their own accord.

He rushes out to the counter, cursing himself for letting Robin take the counter for this shift. You usually come later, so he'd been prepared to swap with her before 5PM, but it's 3 now and you're chatting jovially over the counter with her.

"Your bracelet is gorgeous," She croons, and there's something more-than-friendly about the way she cradles your wrist in her hand to admire it, "It suits you really well."

"Aw, thank you!" You gush, grinning at her, "I called ahead to reserve The Goonies, Steve said he'd put it behind the counter?"

He had put it behind the counter. He'd set aside cash there, too, because he was going to pay your rental fee, and when you'd thank him for it, he was going to say that it was no big deal. But that if you wanted, you could come over to his place to watch it? And he'd pay for pizza too, you wouldn't have to worry about that. So when Robin reaches for the movie, Steve jumps into action.

"Oh, yeah! Here it is," Robin grabs the tape from where it's tucked beneath Steve's jacket near the trash can, "Okay, $1.99 for the rental fee, and you'll have to pay another $0.99 for every day after this Friday that you keep it."

"Actually, Rob," Steve rushes to the counter, cheeks slightly flushed as you turn to watch him, "Uh, I can take this one."

"I got it," She stares awkwardly at him, hand already reaching for the two dollar bills you're handing her

"Uh, no I- I need your help in the back," He jerks a thumb towards the rewind room, "Would you-? I'll- we'll be right back," He smiles at you, gripping her bicep and tugging her away from the counter before she can take your money, "Just give me a second!"

"Dude!" She hisses the moment the door is shut, "What's the matter with you? I totally could have handled that!"

"That's the girl I was telling you about," Steve gushes, his eyes wide and his hands tense at his sides, "I- You can't flirt with the girl I like!'

Her eyes widen momentarily, and her shoulders sag, "Oh, Steve, I didn't know. Okay, uh- alright, you can ring her up. God, why do you always call dibs on the pretty ones?"

"Thanks, Robin," Steve grins, patting her on the shoulder as he rushes for the door. He jogs back to the counter, matching your kind smile with his own where you've set your $2 on the counter.

"Hey, uh, no worries," He stands at the cash register, pushing your bills back towards you and pulling out his own, "I got this one."

Your brows furrow, "Wait- you...? No, I got it! Steve, I'll pay for it, it's okay."

"Don't worry about it!' He insists, pointedly ignoring the way you're holding the cash up for him and sticking his own bills in the register, "I just- I thought that, uh, it would be nice if you came over to my place to watch it. Tonight. Or- or some other night, if tonight doesn't work. But I-," He stammers, grinning sweetly at you, "I can pay."

Your eyes soften, and the hand with the money in it sags. Your confused frown morphs into a smile, "I'd love to come over, Steve. Tonight doesn't work, I'm babysitting." You lament, "But I'm free tomorrow, if you are?"

Steve has a closing shift tomorrow.

"Yeah, no I'm- I'm free." He nods vigorously, already thinking about what food he can bribe Robin with to switch her hours with his tomorrow, "Uh, I can come pick you up at six?"

"Six-thirty," You bargain, and he hands you the tape with a smile and a nod, "Thanks, Steve."

"Yeah, anytime! See you then!" He calls after you as you head for the door, and he waits until you're safely out of the parking lot to rush for the back room, not wanting you to see his desperation.

"She said yes!" He practically shouts, scaring Robin so much that she drops the tape she's holding. It shatters on the ground, plastic spewing over the scratchy carpet, and she shares a horrified glance with Steve.

"Shit. Uh," He stammers, floundering for a solution that won't cost him more than his allowance, "I'll buy a blank tape, just- stick it in there and don't tell anyone. Here," He digs in his pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill he'd planned to use for gas, "Take this, that's, like, $4 for the tape and $6 for dinner tomorrow night, you're closing."

"I don't have a closing-" She starts, her brows furrowing, then her eyes narrow and she fixes him with an unimpressed stare.

"Really?"

"She wants to meet tomorrow!" Steve insists, running a hand through his hair, "Just- take the cash, Rob. Plus, you owe me one," He reasons, "You flirted with my girl."

"She's not your girl," Robin gripes, but she's more than happy to take the money, "Just be glad I'm an easy bribe, doofus."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one-shot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hc #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst

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fackeraccount · 13 days ago

Text

Streaming Now!

Genre: Felix x F!reader, Streamer Au, Enemies? To lovers, smau, 18+, fluff, slight angst

Status: ongoing

Summary: Y/N is a streamer who seems to hate Felix but in reality, she's putting up a facade to hide a secret crush and fanpage. Having a mutual friend makes it harder to hide her feelings but she'll try until she can't

《Prev》 ☆3☆ *written part*《Next》

Sighing, she put her phone down. Even though her friends hadn't mentioned it, today was obligatory movie night and this week she was the host.

Y/n just hoped that there would be no scary movies involved. She didn't wanna be jumpy all night.

Y/n began to set up the living room with a mandatory pillow fort which was held up by a few dining chairs that she had dragged over. She put snacks inside the fort and some drinks. Movie nights meant getting drunk no matter what.

Putting the final touches, she moved away from the pillow fort and made sure there was enough ice cream for all of them. She also ordered pizza in advance cause what was a movie night without pizza and wine?

Once everything was set, she texted them to start coming over with their matching pj's that they chose in duos and one trio.

The ringing doorbell caught your attention after taking pics with Ryujin who had arrived moments earlier.

Opening it, Han stepped in with Minho in tow, clearly coming together. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again, this time, with Jeongin, Jake and Seungmin coming together.

As soon as everyone was accounted for, they all moved towards the pillow fort and started situating themselves in the pillow fort.

"Y/nnie!!" Han yelled from his spot in the pillow fort. "Come sit down or we're started without you!"

"Yah! Let me grabbed the pizza then I'll sit down," She yelled back.

"Make it quick!" Jake yelled as well.

She sighed but grabbed the pizza box anyway. She squished herself in between Ryujin and Jake with Jeongin sitting on the his left side of Jake with Seungmin on his other side and Minho on Ryujin's right with Han beside him.

According to movie night rules, it was Jeongin's turn to pick a movie and he chose a cheesy romance movie.

"No! You should've turned on a horror movie so we could see Y/n's face!" Jake cried out.

"No way! Horror is not my cup of tea." Han spoke.

"Yea, no matter how funny Y/nnie's face is, I'm also afraid of horror." Ryujin added.

"You're all pussies. It's just a movie." Minho said.

Y/n scoffed, and spoke up, "Yea maybe to you they are."

"Okay, enough. Just watch the movie, it's starting." Jeongin interrupted.

Other than the initial dispute, the movie night went pretty smoothly after that. They switch between multiple movies ranging from comedy to thriller, action and many more.

Soon, they were drunk out of their minds and somehow decided to play 'Never have I ever'.

"Okay, never have I ever, tripped in front of the whole class." Ryujin said.

Jake, Y/n, and Han each put a finger down before Han spoke up.

"Never have I ever, been a goodie two shoe-know it all,"

Y/n put a finger down along with Seungmin.

"Never have I ever, had a clumsy moment in public" Y/n spoke.

Han and Jeongin both put their fingers down before it was Jeongin's turn.

"Never have I ever, tried to flirt with a Noona."

Han scoffed and yelled, "Yah!! That was targeted wasn't it?!"

"Of course it was."

Han glared at Jeongin after he put a finger down before it finally reached Minho.

"Never have I ever, kissed someone I hated while drunk."

Jeongin, Jake and Ryujin all put a finger down.

Jake spoke after a little while, "Never have I ever, insulted a teacher to his face."

Seungmin, Minho, and Y/n put their fingers down.

"Wait, wait, Y/n? I expected Seungmin and Minho but when did you?" Jake asked.

"Well, that day I was finally taken off the volleyball team, my Literature professor came up to me and said, 'At least now you can focus on your English instead of tossing around a flimsy ball all day long'. Then I kinda, spoke my mind." She replied sheepishly.

"I didn't know you had it in you." Seungmin spoke honestly.

"Yea," Minho agreed.

"Just move on. Seungmin, it's your turn right? Go i wanna sleep. All that wine is making me tired." She said.

"Never have I ever, been in a school club."

At this, everyone put their fingers down. Y/n yawned and stood up.

"That's enough for me. Goodnight."

"Yea me too,"

"And me,"

Soon after, Ryujin went to Y/n's room and Minho and Han went to a get bedroom together. Jeongin and Jake shared another room while Seungmin got his own and they all fell asleep. Hangovers to be dealt with in the morning.

#felix smau #felix x reader #skz smau #skz x reader #skz social media au #skz fake texts #skz texts #stray kids smau #stray kids x reader #stray kids fake texts #stray kids texts #Streaming Now!

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writing-until-i-drop · 5 months ago

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Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 1

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

AO3 Link

“I think that’s the last of it,” I wiped my hands on my thighs, not yet used to the California heat. Natasha, my god send in cut-off sweats, passes me a cold beer, sitting on the edge of a box.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here, Daisy, It’s been impossible being surrounded by the asshats in my squadron.” Ah yes, the infamous dagger squad. Natasha had shared a little bit (or a lot) about each member of her team, leaving out any of the classified details of the mission that had brought them all together except for the fact it had led to permanent assignment for all of them. “When I told them my friend was moving in, they were chomping at the bit to see a picture of you.” My eyes cut to her, taking a long swig of my beer.

“And what picture did you show them?” As best friends since college, there were a lot of embarrassing pictures Natasha had access to that outweighed any of the hot ones on my Instagram. Natasha refused to meet my eyes, my heart sank. “Please tell me it wasn’t the one from-”

“It was.” Nathasha confirmed my worst fears with a proud smile. “You’d be surprised how well it worked for them. I told you, those Tweety Bird shorts- hey!” She rubbed where I punched her shoulder. The photo in question was me, drunk as a skunk, leaning over a frat house toilet while I puked my guts out. It had been a pajama party and my Tweety Bird pants had been cropped to show the entirety of my ass.

“You’re the worst, I’m never meeting your friends. You’ll have to suffer the testosterone alone.”

“Noooo,” Natasha whined. Rolling my eyes, I focused my energy on unpacking.

Surprisingly, I didn’t have a lot of boxes. Packing up my entire life had mostly been packing up my books and pajama pants that I wore for every occasion except weddings and funerals. My agent supported the move, saying that military novels were all the rage right now in the romance and crime communities, and he was hoping I would take advantage of my new situation for my next series.

I was one of the lucky authors, I had gone from self-publishing to being picked up by a moderately sized publishing house, my books taking off more than in my wildest dreams. My best-selling series was a 1920’s lady detective, followed by a hard-nosed New York cop hunting a serial killer. Despite this, my agent wanted me to take a swing at a smutty romance novel to capitalize on the buzz around them but I was hesitant.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” Natasha yelled from downstairs, “I ordered pizza!”

“Pepperoni?” I shouted back, getting an affirmative answer. “I forgive you!” My growling stomach marched me downstairs despite the few boxes still needing to be unpacked in my room. Tasha couldn’t cook, much to her mom’s disappointment, and lived solely off of cup noodles and takeout, something I planned to change the moment I could get to a grocery store.

Tasha was curled up on the couch, the pizza box and two fresh beers on the coffee table. I took my spot beside her, grabbing a greasy slice.

“We’ve got to decorate your place, Tasha. It’s depressingly bare.” Natasha shrugged, putting on some shitty action movie. “You’ve lived here for six months.”

“I didn’t expect it to be a permanent assignment and then I didn’t know where to start.” I rolled my eyes, opening Amazon and adding an insane amount of decor to the cart as we ate in comfortable silence. If this was going to be home, it was going to be cozy. No matter how much my bank account cried.

It took a week but the apartment was finally starting to feel like home. The brown couch now had throw pillows, there was art on the walls, and rugs on the floor. Everything was calming shades of brown, green, and cream, and there were string lights in every room that could be turned on instead of the overhead lights.

Tasha: Bringing some friends over for dinner - that cool?

I rolled my eyes, she was lucky I always cooked enough to feed an army.

Daisy: Sounds good. Get more beer.

Tasha: Already got it, babe.

I grabbed two more of the new placemats and finished setting the table. Tonight’s dinner was an authentic lasagna, garlic bread, and salad - it truly was far too much for just the two of us. Once everything was laid out of the table and I had myself a glass of wine, the door opened.

“It smells fucking delicious in here,” A man in an extremely loud button down exclaimed, followed by a boyish man with glasses who nodded in agreement. I snorted with laughter, drawing their attention. “And you are beautiful.”

“Nice to meet you too, Rooster. Hi, Bob.”

“Hi, ma’am.” I cringed,

“Daisy, please. Now why don’t the three of you wash up and then we’ll tuck in.” The boys, who had clearly been here before, took off for the bathroom while Phoenix shook her head, putting the case of beer on the counter.

“They’re ridiculous but they’re right, you and dinner are both delicious.”

Dinner went by with little conversation, the three pilots hungrily devouring the food in front of them so fast I was surprised they hadn’t passed out from lack of oxygen.

“Rooster, you have a roommate, right? I’ll make a plate for you to take home for him.”

“Hangman will be fine but I’ll take a plate for work tomorrow, honey.” I rolled my eyes,

“Tasha, text Hangman I’m sending home food for him and he’s to tell me if Rooster eats it. Bob, do you have a roommate?”

“No, ma’am - I mean, no, Daisy.”

“Then I’ll pack you something for lunch, there’s plenty - and yes, Tasha, you’ll have enough for lunch too.”

“Sweet!”

“Thank you, Daisy.”

“You know, once you meet, Hangman you’re not going to send him food anymore.” Phoenix and Bob laugh with him,

“I warned her about Bagman but Daisy’s sweet as can be. She’d give a cannoli to her worst enemy.”

“You’re wrong,” I wrote a quick, little note on Hangman’s box. Natasha gives me a uh huh look before I finish, “I would never share my cannolis.”

Phoenix: Daisy’s sending dinner home with Rooster for you - he’s going to say it’s for him, don’t believe him

Confusion wrinkled my brow as I tried to recall knowing a Daisy. It took a minute but eventually I remembered Phoenix talking about her new roommate. She had cooked dinner? Besides Bob, no one in the squadron knew how to cook much, if at all. So a home cooked meal would be the best part of my day.

Hangman: Tell the little lady thank you

Phoenix: Tell her yourself, she’s coming to the Hard Deck tomorrow even if I have to drag her kicking and screaming

I chuckle, refocusing on ironing my uniform for tomorrow. I even take pity on my roommate and iron his, not wanting to hear him crashing around the apartment bright and early trying to do it in the morning.

“Hagman, have you eaten?” Rooster called out, slamming the front door shut. There was not a single subtle thing about that man. Not his clothes, his flying, or his mannerisms.

“No but I heard you brought me something.” When I reached the kitchen Rooster was standing there, staring at the container of food. “Is that for me?”

“She even wrote you a note. She’s perfect, man. Funny, pretty, cooks well.” He slid me the still-warm container with a pink note sticking on the top. There was a hangman doodle with the note.

E N O Y H N E Y

“This is the best lasagna I’ve ever had.” Rooster nodded, passing me a beer. “I’ve got to meet this girl.”

“Try not to scare her off, bud. Or else she’s going to stop feeding us.”

Next Chapter

#jake seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #fanfic #idiots in love #wildflowers for a hangman fic #natasha phoenix trace #pete maverick mitchell

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lifewithdavefarts · 1 year ago

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DaveFarts - Episode 25 “Endurance Test” [Episode List] Tim gets a bit too cocky and challenges his gassy friend by (jokingly) doubting of his farting skills. Dave, whose farts are being as powerful as usual, if not more, gladly accepts the challenge.

This story was originally requested by StraightFartGods.

POV: Tim

The weather outside, despite being warm, wasn’t the best so our plans for the night, being a group of friends who’s starting to surrender way too easily (it’s because once you’re past 25, you get instantly old), we all decided to stay home, our respective homes even, so Dave and I ended up alone. We don’t mind that much.

Dave likes going out way more than me (though it’s not like I don’t know how to have fun) but he too cherishes some good, safe alone-time to recharge social batteries: we’re much more similar than we’d like to admit, which is why we get along so well. They say we’re “the odd couple”, but I think that weirdos simply attract each other naturally, even though they can look very different at first.

“Alright.” Dave said, walking into the living room. He was dressed as if we had to leave, so a grey shirt and a pair of good old dark blue jeans, slightly loose because he untied his belt. “I’m starving.”

“Pizza?” I simply asked.

“The day I’m gonna answer ‘No’ to that is the day you’ll know a skinwalker took my place.”

The power of pizza.

Even though we didn’t actively plan for it, the night slowly morphed into a “movie night”, just the two of us on the couch eating pizza and watching a cheesy, manly, toxic action movie that we can recite by memory because of how many times we watched it: “Bullet Gore”. Now that’s a title!

“Your face is history.” the male hero said, right before turning somebody’s head to bits with his shotgun.

We cheered as and had a sip of beer as if our baseball team scored the match point and enjoyed the unnecessary but fun gore sequences of the film.

“Too bad they ruined everything with the sequel.” Dave commented.

“Aw come on. It’s worse, but not that bad.” I replied.

“Never watched and never will.” he stated, taking a good sip of beer.

By the time the movie was halfway done (it was a surprisingly long flick), I had to turn up the volume because of some noises next to me making me difficult to hear what the characters were saying.

Indeed, Dave started farting, the way he does during nights like these, with pizza and beer acting as fuel for his already incredible talent. He was resting both his legs on the small table in front of the couch, his denim ass facing the TV, so I didn’t have a proper full view of it. I could, however, hear every single blast echoing in the room, with the terrible scent immediately following each thunder.

I would love to say that he was doing this because of my kink, but this is actually what being Dave’s close friend means: you better get used to his farts, because he’s gonna just casually do it in front of you whether you like it or not. He wasn’t even acknowledging that he was ripping one every few minutes, huge ones nonetheless, though once or twice he did snap his fingers to get me to turn to him, so I could see his smirk as he ripped one. Once again, he does this with our other friends as well, but he does seem to put some extra “care” into the teasing part because he knows I actually, well, like it.

But everyone’s got limits: the farts were huge, not overly long, but incredibly stinky. Even for my standards, it was getting a bit… stuffy in there, so I actually went for it.

“I know this is weird coming from me, but… can you tone it down a bit?”

Dave slowly turned to me with a serious, surprised face, and effortlessly replied by ripping a loud, almost wet one, renewing the stench he was immune to. This time it was one of his longer ones, around 7 seconds long.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you.” he managed to say while farting. “Did you say something?”

After the fart ended and a few moments of silence (ignoring the TV), I opened my mouth to speak again, but my friend’s ass spoke first, emitting another loud, long rip.

Dave gestured to his ear and slowly shook his head, as to say the he still couldn’t hear me, as if we were in a loud nightclub, but the only music piercing through my own eardrums was my bro’s loud fart.

That ridiculous scene actually made me laugh like an idiot, while also giving me the hardest boner so far of the night.

9 seconds and the rip was over.

“So, I did it.” Dave said. “You’ve been healed. I blasted your kink out of you.” he joked.

“Please…” I played along. “Those were like… low-tier farts, for your standards.”

“True.” he playfully admitted. “So don’t tempt me.” he threatened.

I hated that I found that… hot.

“I’m n-not… I’m just s-saying that the entire room smells like, I don’t know, rotten beer? Is t-that even possible?”

Dave laughed. “If only there was something or someone who could fix this!”

“What are you implying…?” I asked.

“Well…” Dave sat normally on the couch. “I assumed your lungs were better than this. But apparently you just can’t handle my power.” he said, with a cheesy smirk.

“Oh…” I got what he meant. “Well, maybe I’m not complaining because of you’re farting too much.” I leaned closer to him, as if we were doing some shady business. “Maybe I’m complaining because you’re not farting enough.” I dared to say.

My friend replied with a surprised laughter. “Are you seriously challenging me?” he didn’t sound offended or disgusted, just amused. But he can get cocky.

“Wanna bet?” I asked, indeed challenging him.

“Alright, get up.”

Dave stood up and I did the same: it truly looked like we were doing a business meeting.

“Challenge accepted.” he continued, and we firmly shook hands. “If I win, beers are on you for 3 months.”

“Deal.” I replied. “But if I win, we’re gonna watch ‘Bullet Gore 2’ later.”

While still shaking hands, Dave looked at me funny.

“Really? That’s it?” he replied, with a smile. “All of this just to watch a shitty movie with me?”

Funny how that’s the thing he found weird instead of, you know, the boner his farts give me.

“Yeah. Pretty gay, huh?” I joked.

“Okay…” he nodded, still somewhat surprised. “It’s a deal.”

We once again had this super manly handshake going on, just as an helicopter in the movie exploded in a fiery fireball, killing a bunch of henchmen and one of the main villains, with the shirtless muscular hero saying something like “Burn in Hell, you son of a bitch!”. Probably the manliest moment I ever lived through.

“So, let’s hear those toots.” I said, bravely.”

“Toots?” my friend replied. “I’m gonna blast your face so hard you’re gonna regret having this kink…”.

Dave casually threatening me like this… got me instantly hard. I knew he was just playing along but goddammit, why am I like this? Why is he like this? Why the fuck did I even accept this bet?! As my own mind made fun of me, my bro lied on this stomach on the couch, his tall figure occupying all of it, his nice jeans-clad ass facing up, looking like a soft warm denim pillow.

I simply managed to sit between his long legs and planted my face into that ass, still stinky for all the farts he ripped until that moment. My nose wasn’t facing down however, as I didn’t want to make it weird.

“Dude.” I heard Dave say. “Honestly, your lack of commitment to your fart kink disappoints me”. he then laughed, reaching for my head. “Be a man and face my ass.” he said, pushing my head deeper between his denim asscheeks.

I tried not to laugh myself at that weird statement, so I just obeyed and turned my head, facing down, now fully at the mercy of my friend’s powerful butt. I took a good whiff, enjoying the smell of almost 1 hour of loud, post-pizza blasts. As I did that, I felt the ass’ muscles relaxing, a sign that Dave was pushing one out, and indeed it came out immediately: an ear-piercing blast and made my face shake, almost wet-sounding, felt like a slap on my face.

My task was clear: not a single particle of gas had to reach Dave’s nose, so I inhaled it deeply and loudly as the fart kept erupting straight down my nostrils. I inhaled so hard and for so long that I actually surprisingly outlasted my friend’s 9 seconds: now the only noise we both could hear (besides someone getting shot in the movie) was me breathing his gas in… which made me realize how weird that was.

Am I making this weird? Too… “porn-y” for my straight friend? I love that he has no problems with me and my kink, but I don’t want to cross certain lines you know. He’s not saying anything… but his silence only makes it worse. I had to make sure.

“Dave.” I said, my voice being muffled by his ass, which made him laugh. “Am I making this weird?”

My friend simply turned his head, trying to look at me. I managed to get a quick look of his facial expression but the only thing on his face was a cocky smirk.

“Not weirder than usual to me.” he simply said. He then reached for my head, making it bounce a bit in his ass. “…Ready?”

Another fart erupted, which itself was Dave’s real answer to my question: “it’s fine”, he knows what this kink is by now, and he’s the one who basically challenged me to sniff it all up. Plus, if he was weirded out he knew he could just tell me and I wouldn’t be offended: we’re all adults here after all.

So there I was, my nose enduring some of the worst rips my friend ever gifted to me, the sheer power of those blasts being raunchier than his usual for some reason, maybe because of the beers being warmer or the mozzarella on the pizza being spoiled. No idea.

Or maybe it was just Dave putting extra efforts into his farts, if that was even possible. He’s the Fart King after all, so if he was somehow able to set custom pitch, loudness and power for each farts he ripped I wouldn’t have been surprised. Then again, he could even fart on command, so maybe he doesn’t need more buffs than he already has.

“Your face is history” my friend said, in a deeper voice, a clear reference to the masterpiece we were watching earlier.

And just like the henchman from the movie, my head was blown away by a sheer deadly force, this time in the form of Dave’s being unhinged, each natural blast somehow bigger and better than the previous one. I feel like that it doesn’t matter how this bet goes: I’m winning by simply having a bro like him.

I kept sniffing it all up as the blast rushed down my throat. He was good at farting, but I was also good at taking it. It’s like I said: weirdos work better together!

Yeah, I was taking it all like a champ.

“I could do this all night you know.” he boasted, during a rare moment of his ass being silent.

“What a coincidence: me too!” I bragged.

“Ohhhh… someone’s getting cocky back there.”

Dave really wanted those free beers, huh? He once again reached for my head and, with a firm grip, pushed it deeper down his warm denim ass, now almost sagging.

“Let’s see if you can keep your promise, shall we?” that was a threat.

There was like 10 seconds of silence, 10 never-ending seconds, but I just knew Dave was brewing something big, as he kept my head there (not that I was planning to move it anyway). Finally, he turned to me, with a cheesy grin, purposely trying to look like some kind of serial killer from a slasher movie before finish his victim off.

And then he hit me with his weapon of choice: the loudest fart I heard that night. It was big, it was powerful, it was deep, long. His hand didn’t move and my whole face was shaking because of the sheer power of the blast; I had to close my eyes ‘cause the gas was making them burn. How was it possible to fart so naturally and casually like this for him will always be beyond me… but I didn’t care. I managed to breathe that monster in with my mouth open, almost choking on my friend’s deadly gas.

Dave loved the challenge, but two can play this game! I could tell he was amused, disgusted and surprised by how good I was at enduring his powerful rips.

And finally, after 16 whole seconds, that impressive display of flatulence was over, not a single particle of gas reaching my farter-friend’s nostrils, as I promised.

“I believe you’re losing your touch.” I mocked him.

“With all the farts you've been eating, of course you'd be talking shit you ungrateful bastard!”

“Ohhhh sorry, someone's a little touchy.” I kept teasing him.

“Alright, I’m done holding back.” he sounded comically annoyed by my impressive endurance.

My friend slowly turned over until he was lying on his back, making sure he didn’t accidentally kick me with his long legs. He now assumed a more familiar position, the one he usually has when blasting me. He cocked his legs up, showing off his denim ass and a tiny bit of his red boxer brief, and wrapped his legs around me, pulling me closer to his gas source. His long legs had an even stronger grip than his hand, and my whole face was now completely planted into my friend’s ass.

“I’m feeling merciful tonight, so I’m giving you the chance to surrender now.” he stated, as his legs held me still, keeping my nose right between the rough fabric of his jeans-clad buttcheeks.

“Never.” I boasted. “…unless, you know, you actually want to stop because this is getting too weir-“

“Shut up!” he cut me off. “You just had to ruin my villainous speech, didn’t you?!” he laughed.

I just didn’t know what to say.

“Again, this is your last chance bro.”

I played along, knowing he was okay with it. “Hit me with your best shot, but don’t wound what you can’t kill.”

We both laughed like immature idiots, but Dave took my words at heart, because once we were done laughing at that ridiculous moment, he felt air being sucked inside his anus.

Yes, he switched to “on-command” mode, his secret weapon, his final secret move. Despite my face being there, my bro didn’t have any trouble at sucking more and more air through his ass like a vacuum cleaner, and the sound that made wasn’t that different from an actual fart. Every time I heard that “air-being-sucked-in” noise, as silly as that sounds, I think of a drumroll, the kind of tension that raises before the beat actually drops, because that’s what Dave’s farts are: something to look forward to… if you’re into it of course.

He’s been sucking air for like 20 seconds now and I started to regret my cockiness: when even a kinky bitch like me ends up being afraid of his own best bro’s farting skills, you just know something big, maybe too big, is gonna happen.

The anticipation made me hornier than ever, and the fact that it was, well, Dave, just Dave, my friend, made it even hotter for me. So casually, undeniably hot.

Finally, he stopped sucked air in, and I could hear Dave breathing (from his mouth) heavily, a sign that he was getting tired… and even his ass was getting sweatier and warmer.

“Your face is history.” my bud said again, in a comically deep voice.

We love that movie.

What followed, however, almost made me pass out.

The loudness was almost unnatural, I feared it could make me deaf. Imagine the stock sound of a fart, only longer, more powerful, airy, the most impressive fart Dave ripped in months, something so powerful that he can even feel the recoil as he pushed it out… just like a shotgun.

The more he farted, the louder it got, and I swore he was gonna tear a hole through his jeans this time, there was no way his clothes were able to endure that. I kept sniffing, breathing heavily, the fart’s pace being faster than my own breathing, if that makes any sense. 10 seconds already and the blast didn’t seem to lose any power: I almost got scared.

As the fart kept getting ripped, I felt Dave stretching his long denim legs wide to ease the fart out, which in turn made it sound even louder and deadlier. I felt like living a weird fever dream, probably because of all the poisonous gas in my lungs. But I also felt the luckiest man in the world.

I dared to peek over that denim ass, only to be greeted by Dave having the most evil smirk in the world, completely unfazed by how weird I was, how all of that was… but I could also see how tired and sweaty he was from forcing all those farts out, incredibly enough.

I planted my head back where it belonged, sniffing as much as I could, as if my life depended on it, even though I was almost passing out for all that stench… and the blood rushing down to my boner didn’t help to focus at all.

And yet… I won. The fart was losing power, ending with a quick series of toots, Dave’s legs crashing down the couch, his left one on my right side, his right one on my left side, and I got up myself, my face leaving that gas trap, finally sitting down normally on the couch.

I took a good look at Dave: he was indeed tired, sweaty, sporting a silly smirk.

“Is that how you look like after sex?” I dared to joke.

My friend laughed. “Hey, I love you bro, but you gotta settle for my farts.”

I patted one of his legs in response, as a cheesy way to thank him, and hopefully he knew how thankful I was. I mean, he already knew how aroused I was anyway, so why keep the fact that I’m grateful a secret?

Dave too adjusted his position, this time kicking me on purpose while doing it, and sat back normally.

“I gotta say, I didn’t except you to win.” he admitted.

“…win?!” I replied. “Bro… I was basically done. That last one almost killed me.”

We both laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Let’s call it a tie then.” he proposed. “Until next time at least.” he just casually said.

I simply turned to the TV, only to find out that the movie was over.

Did Dave just face-farted me for like… 30 minutes?! Time truly flew by.

My friend then reached for his beer and the remote. We some on-demand features on our TV and, after navigating the UI for a few seconds, he started downloading “Bullet Gore 2”.

“Really?” I asked.

“Well, if you can endure all of that gas, I can sit through a turd of a movie.”

I think he was gonna watch this movie with me either way, regardless of any bet, just like I’m more than happy to offer him a beer whenever I could, so all of this fart-bet was for nothing.

Then again, weirdos attract each other naturally...

End of Episode 25

#eproctophilia #davefarts #fart kink #fart story #malefarts

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