#warming his bbg

[owwllly]

his warmth

[camotherogue]

so guess who never got to drawing buchi sobs. It'll happen eventually guys I promise.ntomorrow. I got busy with other designs today and then my power fucked off IM SOBBING I REALLY DO WANT TO DRAW HIM I SWEAR

[thewickedjazzy]

Special Level: "DPーONE HOLE" for Kinktober.

♡PHASE 2: gojo & dazai x afab! reader. *nsfw audio⬇⬇*

Synopsis: sandwiched between dazai and gojo, you didn't see it coming when they proposed to share a single hole.

Warnings: ņsfw, mdni, smųt with plot, double penetration, size kink, mild degrading kink, voyeurism, reader has a female anatomy, orgasm control, oral sex, rough sex, praise kink, mild psychological manipulation, masturbation, ovulation, pet names used: angel, sweetheart...etc.

Word count & a/n: 3.9k, okay this took me 3 days to write no joke- a special thank you and a kiss to my sweet bbg rem @remlionheart for helping me out to finalise this part, i don't know what i would've done without her xx.

READ: PHASE 1: geto & chuuya x afab! reader.

“no way... it’s not gonna fit!” you exclaim, wide-eyed as you take in the two men standing before you, both packing unbelievably huge cocks.

“oh, we’ll make it fit,” the brunet purrs with a sick smirk curling into his lips. are they serious? you nearly passed out last time when it was with geto and chuuya—and that wasn’t even in the same hole.

you shift slightly, feeling a twinge of nervous excitement as they exchange a deranged knowing look. no way they're actually about to try this—double penetration in one hole?

you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this situation. uh, well, you need to rewind a few hours…

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“you’re going to miss the after-party if you don’t hurry up!” suguru’s voice comes from the other side of the opulent hotel suite door. he stands there sighing and rolling his eyes as he adjusts his tailored dark grey suit that complements your dress perfectly.

“i know!” you bite back, desperately fumbling with the zipper on your dress. the more you pulled, the more it seemed determined to stick in place. well, you didn't expect less from a sleek, form-fitting black dress that falls to just above the knee with a deep v-neck and a backless design.

you huff in frustration feeling your face heat up. why was it always so much more complicated when it was your turn to shine? you could practically hear the chatter of geto and chuuya outside, and yet here you were, trapped in a battle with a stubborn zipper for the second time

the door cracks open, and geto pokes his head in with a pitiful smirk already forming. behind him stands chuuya, eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. given that he’s a good head shorter, he practically has to lean up to get a look around geto's shoulder.

“need help?” geto asks, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice. classic.

“oh, totally fine! just a… minor uh..malfunction,” you lie, completely ignoring the way your hands are still locked in a losing tug-of-war with the dress. they don't need to know how close you were to waving a white flag.

geto tilts his head, obviously not convinced, but before he can offer again, a crewmember flags them down from the hallway, urgently needing both of them. geto sighs looking a bit hesitant as they’re called away, and you can hear chuuya muttering something about “never a damn break.”

“okay, but shout if you need someone to rescue you,” geto calls chucking over his shoulder as they head off.

you nod, giving an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up while praying the dress will cooperate. once they’re gone, you turn back to the mirror, wrestling with the zipper once more and muttering in frustration. just as you’re about to give up, a pair of warm hands appear on your back, gently tugging the zipper up with ease.

“thank god you’re here,” you sigh in relief, not even bothering to check who’s behind you, assuming it’s someone from wardrobe.

“i was just about to say the same thing,” comes a voice, too close, and way too amused.

you freeze...oh no, that voice!

“g-gojo!” you falter, finally twisting around to see his saccharine shitty grin.

“i... um... thanks? but i didn’t know i was getting a personal stylist??” you reply, pink hue colouring your already flustered face.

“well, I do charge by the hour.” he says, raising an eyebrow with that all-too-smug grin.

is he serious right now?

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. “yeah? i’ll make sure you work for every cent.”

“here you go! all zipped up and ready to go.” he pats your shoulders gently.

as you check yourself in the mirror, you hear gojo muttering under his breath, “now, where the hell is my bag of bandages?”

needless to say that the suicidal freak is trying to negotiate his way onto the rooftop by slipping a hotel staff member a crisp 100 yen bill. “just let me through, and I won’t mention how you’re the staff's designated crack dealer, alright?”

with that, he strides confidently down the corridor, only to collide with chuuya, who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed chatting with geto with a sceptical expression on his face.

“who the hell let you back here?” the redhead barks, glaring at dazai not bothering to hide his frustration.

“uh who the hell let you wear that outfit?” the brunet retorts, taking in chuuya's ensemble, a sharp tuxedo that is a true work of art, complete with a black satin lapel that gleams in the light. beneath it lies a deep crimson shirt, and of course, no look is complete without his stylish new fedora, adding the perfect finishing touches. “did you lose a bet? now, shut up, i’m looking for someone.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

once you’re finally ready, you and the four hotties head up to the hotel rooftop for the after-party. the view of the city skyline is breathtaking, with all the lights twinkling like stars against the night sky. needless to say that the vibe up there is so lively, you can practically feel the energy bustling around you. everyone's laughing, chatting, and the clinking of glasses fills your ears with the upbeat music that makes you want to dance.

you spot some of the cast, all dressed to the nines, mingling and celebrating the movie premiere like it was the best night of their lives. it’s hard not to feel a little caught up in the excitement yourself.

as the night goes on, you’re hanging back in a quieter corner of the rooftop, drink in hand, watching gojo and dazai do their usual routine, with the white-haired freak launching into his jujutsu tales about being the “strongest sorcerer in history” to anyone who’ll lend an ear. he’s practically flexing at this point, not that anyone asked about his sorcery skills—but that doesn’t seem to stop him.

as for dazai, well, he's in his own world of smooth-talking, tossing just the right lines to make every woman he chats with laugh like he's the funniest guy in the room, nodding along to gojo’s wild stories as if he’s actually been there, backing him up with just enough charm and sly touches on the arm or shoulder to keep his female audience wrapped around his finger.

it goes without saying, that geto and chuuya are just standing there, looking like they’re about five seconds from yanking them by the collars and dragging them away.

“keep them in check,” you hear the redhead mutter to suguru, who rolls his eyes in agreement.

“hey, do you wanna get a drink?” the brunet suddenly suggests, sidling up to you with a playful glint in his eyes, and as usual, gojo is right beside him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“oh, i-i don’t think i should,” you hadn’t planned to drink tonight, especially since you were ovulating and wanted to stay clear-headed. but the glimmer of pleading in their eyes makes it hard to resist.

“oh, c’monnn! just one drink?” gojo pleads, leaning closer and brushing his fingertips on yours. “it’ll be fun.”

with a sigh, you relent, knowing they won’t let it go easily. “finnne, just one.”

oh, agreeing to this was a crucial mistake—not because you're getting drunk, but because you're literally a giggling mess, flirting right back with them more than usual. with the increase in estrogen, making your skin feel more sensitive, and you can’t help but notice how the fabric hugs your curves perfectly, leaving you feeling uncharacteristically sexy. every playful touch and cheeky comment from the two men sends your heart racing, as if it’s the first time anyone has ever admired you like this.

you finish your glass, you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, the effects of the alcohol hitting you faster than you expected. the two men's playful banter becomes way more extreme, you find their hands roaming your body in tandem, too shamelessly.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the brunet brat chuckles lowly snapping you out of your thoughts as he leans in closer until his long slender fingers slide between your slick folds, parting them as he plunges two digits deep into your sweet soaked hole. “oh, see? pretty sure it will fit,” he coos, spreading his fingers inside you just enough to draw another desperate moan from your throat. “you’re already making it easier with how wet you are.”

your back arches againts your will as your head lolls back, mouth falling open in delight. and you can clearly hear your pulse racing in your chest as he keeps his fingers inside you, curling and spreading them while keeping his gaze fixed on your pouty face.

“just relax, yeah?” dazai whispers, pressing his palm against your chest to guide you back onto the soft, white blanket, relaxing your tensed body.

to the side, gojo leans back into the leather couch across the room, his own gaze heavy-lidded with arousal as he strokes his cock in long, slow, lewd motions, eyes completely locked on the way you writhe beneath dazai's touch. the six eyes man whore is absolutely shameless, letting every inch of his thick length slide through his hand as he watches you with a smug grin spreading across his face. “fuck yeah, look at you,” his voice drops an octave.“already fucked out, and we haven’t even fucked you yet.”

your gaze flickers to gojo, watching as he tightens his grip around his deliciously lengthy cock, hand moving in slow, teasing strokes, you bite back a whimper and tugging at the brunet's sleeve as some sort of a plea. as soon as the sorcerer catches your stare, he chuckles darkly picking up the pace and rubbing his seed-soaked tip with his thumb, little blue-tinted veins running up and down his cock, a shade dangerously close to his own hungry eyes.

you should be ashamed of how much your mouth starts to water, saliva pooling and connecting the roof of your mouth to the pad of your tongue.

“getting all wet just from my fingers?… how are you gonna handle both of us?” his fingers continue their sedulous rhythm as he stretches you open, a rushing river of slickness pooling with every teasing thrust of his digits. he pulls his fingers out only to plunge them back in again, spreading them inside you, relishing in the way your walls flutter and clench around him. “It’s like you were made for us”

“dazai,” gojo calls, from across the room, “go faster, yeah? look at how desperate they are.”

without hesitation, the brunet speeds up, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy walls, soft thumb rubbing your abused clit firmly, sending shockwaves of dopamine across your brain. you can feel it build rapidly, hips rocking salaciously against his fingers, feeling the sex loaded air pressing down on your chest, as he works you closer and closer to your release. but just as you’re about to tip over, the brat pulls his fingers out, leaving you trembling and on the brink. you mentally curse him, more tears filling your eyes as you look up at him, lips wet and pouty, parted in a desperate, wordless plea.

“oh? you want us to make you come?” gojo chuckles, voice almost mocking you pathetically as he stands up and strides over to loom over you with that infuriatingly smug grin. “then kiss me,” he leans down, face so close that you can feel his minty breath ghosting over your lips.

you know better than to listen to him, but desperation consumes you as you silently mourn the loss of your neglected release, you shift, reaching up to capture his lips, loud heartbeats drowning out your hearing. but just as you’re about to press your mouth to his, you hit an invisible barrier, his infinity keeping you just millimetres from him. he chuckles darkly, watching the frustration build up in your eyes as you let out an exasperated whimper, practically aching to close the gap.

“that’s not fair!” you cry in desperation as you press harder against the invisible barrier, lips hovering so close but unable to reach him.

gojo’s sick smirk only widens. “life’s not fair, sweetheart,” he drawls sultrily, “but maybe if you let us both fuck you…” he lets the sentence hang out in the sex charged air between you both, his glances over at dazai with an amused grin.

“oh, c’mon, angel. that look in your eyes is begging for more. you know you want us to fill you until you can’t take it anymore.” the burnet's hand tilt your chin slightly so that you're facing him, his other hand still on your thighs, fingers idly trace patterns on your sensitive skin, keeping you needy like a bitch in heat.

“please,” you whisper as you try to push again though his invisible barrier but to avail, fuck it! you need to taste him to feel his sweet lips on yours, “please, i need it—i need both of you.” your voice cracking, dignity slipping as you look from one to the other, unable to resist any more teasing.

the white-haired freak hums in satisfaction, and as soon as his infinity is turned off, you find both your lips pressed together, tasting your shared breath, and oh god the taste of him makes you melt drawing out sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make. his tongue sweeps against yours, coaxing you into a messy, open-mouthed kiss that leaves you dizzy.

just as you’re sinking into him, lost in his sweet taste, dazai's firm hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him with a look that leaves no room for patience. his mouth is on you before you can take a breath, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging, then his tongue slides in, leaving a slick trail of spit that mixes with gojo’s. a needy groan rumbling from his throat as you part your legs even wider, inviting him to slip between your inner thighs.

dazai’s hands settle firmly on your waist, fingers digging in as he lifts you effortlessly, guiding you until you’re straddling him, pillowy thighs spread around his hips. he shifts, positioning himself so his achy tip is bumping your clit, until he reaches right between your inner folds, running the meat of his shaft along the length of your soaked pussy. you lean in to tast the faint salt of his skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. a shuddered breath escapes him as the soft warmth of your heated cunt welcomes his length, angry tip nudges into you, slipping past that tender threshold.

“oh fuck baby mngh..suck me in like that, fuck yeahh,” he growls as you sink down to drive his delicious cock into the deepest parts of your sex, inch by fucking inch, your cunt already fully lubed up with all your sweet juices. the world around you fades, leaving only the exquisite sensation of being filled by dazai’s meaty cock.

and just when you think that you're already too full of dazai, you feel gojo's strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, slowly pushing deep within you, his girth sliding alongside the brunet's and into your ruined hole, filling you to the brim in a luscious stretch.

“oh—fuhhh-ck ’toruuu, it’s too much—too much!” you gasp, voice breaking as your body struggles for a few seconds to take them both, a sweet ache blossoming within you as they thrust deeper, cunt instinctively clenching around both their cocks, as if trying to pull them in, to take them impossibly deeper.

“fuckk! you feel incredible. mmngh yeahh just a little more, sweetheart… you can take it.” the sorcerer groans against the shell of your ears while palming both of your breasts from behind, you never imagined taking one of them, leave alone both of them together, every inch of your now-stretched cunt is filled to the brink, and yet craving more, even as it borders on unbearable.

“shh, you’re doing so well,” dazai’s voice came through softly, lips brushing delicate kisses along your collarbone. “just breathe, angel… i’ve got you.” his words are meant to soothe you, but you’re too spent in that moment—utterly lost, trembling as their cocks drives you to the edge of your own universe.

obscene noises mingling together as gojo fists a hand in your hair, tugging your head back and exposing your throat for his hungry lips. his other hand presses firmly on your back, pushing you down until your belly meets the solid warmth of dazai beneath you. the brunet's arms circle your waist, holding you steady, each of them guiding your trembling body into a perfect arch, pushing you to take them fully. so that they can bottom out inside you.

“fuck shit- shit shit feels so good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you feel around him.

“see? you're taking us so well haahh you should cut out the nonsense next time mghh” saturo lets out a throaty hybrid noise, a lewd mix between an amused laugh and a deep moan.

incoherent curses slipping past your wet lips as saturo prods and pinches the sensitive skin around your nipples. it's too much, the pleasure is too much, the pain is too much, the lewd squelch of your sexes as they slip in and out of you, feeling your orgasm build up again.

“mmuph yes please fuuuck don't stop ’m clos-e” your pleading whimpers betray you, just like your body does filled with hormonal lust pooling right into your core.

“fuck oh fu-ck keep squeezing me like that- ah” “hngh yes angel cum all over our cocks”

their voices blur together, indistinguishable as they both sound the same, each word flows into the next. and all you hear is the wet plap plap plap of their balls slapping against your sensitive skin.

you bounce back on their hardened lengths, finally riding out your sweet release. both men moan in unison at the sight of your lewd expression—eyes rolling back, tongue slipping from your mouth as drool and tears streak down your mascara-smudged cheeks, oh, such a beautiful sight to see, body flushed and trembling with sweat trickling down the valley of your breasts.

they’ve ruined you quite literally and turned you into thisーa wrecked mess, quivering each time their thick lengths press against every sensitive spot. with broken cries spilling from your bruised lips, they angle their hips just right, hitting your g-spot over and over.

as their hands glide down to press against the bulge in your lower belly, a wave of intense pleasure unfurls through you, stealing your breath and lighting up every nerve in a blinding crescendo. your vision blurs, flashes of light dancing behind your eyelids as if a galaxy has burst open within you, stars scattering and colliding in the depth of your being.

your juices gush against gojo's firm thighs and dazai's abdomen, soaking them in a glistening sheen under the low hotel lighting. both of them follow suit feeling how your walls flutter and tighten around them so perfectly, two loads of thick, hot cum paint your insides pearly white—the milky liquid reaching deep to your womb, though some of it inevitably leaks out, trickling down from your velvet walls.

once they pull out, they gently place you on the feathery pillows, but not before glancing one last time at your absolutely wrecked and dripping pussy, dripping with their mixed essence. they settle beside you, both of them relaxing into the plush bedding, they take deep breathes trying to calm down from their own high as they cast affectionate glances your way, ensuring you're comfortable and cared for after such an intense release.

“hey, are you okay, baby?” gojo is the first to ask, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face, “did we go too far?”

then dazai leans closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “you did well, angel, but we want to make sure you’re feeling good. do you need some water or anything?”

“just... hold me for a bit.”

you never would have guessed they could be this gentle, let alone attentive. you’d always imagined this would be wild and chaotic, maybe even a bit reckless, but here they were, treating you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

“of course, angel,” dazai replies softly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to his heaving chest. “we’ve got you.”

gojo follows, chuckling softly as his fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin. “if you need anything else, baby, just say it. we’re here to take care of you.”

you close your eyes, nestled between them, you never thought that you'd feel this safe and cared for as they whisper sweet nothings, ensuring you know just how much you’re adored.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @whiteelove @dottedhalfnotes @victoria1676 @ghostedwriting @a-trashbag @bakedpotato12 @ambervanth @sakui1 @iams0up @osamucide @lighthoonie @chuuyascumsock @vernasce-blogs @v1rtualdr3am5 @akyria-shyn @dazaistn @meowpmzai @ilikematcha

[gloomwitchwrites]

Last one I swear...What If 141...had an American girlfriend and they argued or had to teach them about some cultural differences? Football/soccer...currency...bathroom/loo, etc.

You said last one but we know that's not true. Don't blame you though. Keep them coming.

I love this idea. It's so cute! Translation mixup, confusion about slang, cultural differences, etc. Even though the Brits speak English, it's nothing like American English in a lot of respects, which is why I find this prompt so fun!

Wanted to make this quick and short. Presented in four drabbles. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings: brief swearing, brief mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Those are cookies, Kyle.”

“It’s a biscuit.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “A biscuit is savory. Cookies are sweet.”

“Your biscuit is a scone.”

“Oh my god,” you groan.

An old lady navigates around the two of you inside the grocery store. Her cart almost clips you.

Kyle glances down at the list in his hands. “What the fuck is an eggplant?”

“We need it for dinner on Tuesday.”

“But what is it?”

You point and Kyle follows. His arm drops to his side and he side-eyes you.

“That’s an aubergine.”

“That’s an aubergine,” you mimic as Kyle laughs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The front of the pub is painted all black with intricate gold lettering. A nearby streetlamp casts the front window in a warm glow.

“Remember what I told you?” asks Simon.

You both stare at the pub, neither moving to the door just yet.

“Tell me again.”

Simon clears his throat. “If I’m buying a round, don’t offer money for your portion. Order at the bar but don’t linger. Know what you want. Respect closing time.”

He pauses and you see him turn in the reflection of the window.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it.”

“Let’s get bloody pissed then.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’ve got this. Don’t stress.” Johnny grasps your shoulders and squeezes. “It’ll be fine.”

“What if I mess up. Make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t,” he affirms.

“Johnny.”

He sighs and then cups the sides of your face. “You don’t have to say anything but three things.” You breathe deep, and Johnny goes in for a quick kiss. “What are they?”

“Aye,” you say. “Which means yes.”

“Naw,” and this is you emphasize with a terrible accent that makes Johnny wince, “is no.”

“What else?”

“It’s okay to use ‘fuck’ casually in a sentence.”

“That’s my girl,” laughs Johnny.

John Price

“If you’re coming to the game, you’re calling it by its proper name,” says John, pointing at you.

“What?” you ask with pretend aloofness. “Soccer?”

“Football,” he growls with annoyance.

It irritates John when you call the sport by its American name. But you do it anyway just to tease him.

John holds up a jersey. “This is important to me.”

“I know.”

“It’s a game with the boys.”

You pat his shoulder. “I know, John.”

He sighs. “What is it called?”

You remain quite and John arches an eyebrow.

“Soccer,” you answer, grinning.

“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[forsworned]

husband simon breeding his cute petite wife. Mf got no mercy, if u don’t add dirty talk and slapping, ima come to ya house bbg

Warning(s): Breeding kink, Rough sex, AFAB!Reader, Degradation

I firmly believe that Simon would be gentle breeding his wife unless said otherwise.

He's syrupy sweet as he's digging into the flesh of your thighs, lifting your hips as he drives into you. Cooing saccharine pet names as he studies the way your face contorts in pleasure. It's always about you and Simon doesn't want it any other way. Directing all his attention to the resonance of your moans and the gooseberries that trail along your skin. Your body continually motions to grind against his pelvis and Simon halts his fervent ministrations to peer down at you.

He's tracing his fingers along the peaks of your breasts, dilated onyx hues fixating on your hardening buds. "'ll take care of ya, dovie."

"Simon—hah!" Another roll of his hips and you're clawing at his biceps desperately seeking purchase into anything. "Need to—fuck!"

"Tell me." He licks his thumb, coating it with his saliva and he's hovering over your clit. You part your lips to speak, but it's lost on you as he slowly starts to rub you out and slowly thrusts into you. He throws his head back a little when you clench around him.

"I want to—Fuck me! Fuck me hard, Simon! Please~" You practically sing out. And he's fighting demons. He knew that look all too well. Because every babymaking session has literally been nothing but slow, intimate, finger-intertwined, mind-blowing sex, but now you want it hard, rough, and dirty?

And that ignites an inferno in him. You're suddenly being turned around, face first, ass sitting up as he grasps onto your thighs and pushes them toward his body. Your small yelp melts into a milky moan when you feel his tongue lapping at your folds. Wet, squelching noises fill your ears as you lose yourself in the hazy euphoria that encapsulates your body. You shudder at the way he flattens his tongue against your clit, and you feel yourself clenching and spasming as you near your end, but he swiftly withdraws himself to fill you with his cock.

"Simon!" Your impassioned cry, causes him to buck his hips a bit as he runs his fingers through your hair and tugs it back so that you're half-facing him, and he hotly slots his lips between yours. His tongue sloppily swirls around your own and saliva drips from your mouths, muffling your conflated moans.

A sharp spank to your plump ass cracks through the air, as he roughly molds your cervix to his dick. "Ya like that don't ya, ya little slut?"

"Oh—fu—" Your half profanity is unfound on him as he feels your walls gripping onto him. The grin that stretches across his lips is raunch as hell as he makes you wail out in the most lewd way possible.

Another hot, welting spank to your ass jerks your body forward, but you're not going anywhere in his grip. "Such a little slut for me, aren't ya, baby?"

You can only nod in response, but he grips your chin between his taut fingers and your jaw is slackened as you peer up at his with misty eyes.

"Say it." He commands. And your lips contort into a giddy, toothy smile as you suck on his finger. His lips part as he pumps his finger into your mouth and the feeling of your tongue, causes him to suck in his bottom lip.

You let go with an audible pop. "I'm your little slut."

And with that, another smack to your ass sends you reeling as he hammers into you and suddenly you feel your clit being encircled. The excitement and the pleasure are too much for you as you become dizzy with that gratifying buzz that pushes you to the brink of your seventh heaven.

"'m gonna, Si—!" You whimper out as you feel a rich fire that is blossoming in your belly reach into every nerve of your body so pleasantly, leaving you warm and fuzzy. Your eyes are drifting to the back of your head and you feel Simon twitch inside of you and the warmth of his cum, spilling into your womb, coating your walls like he had intended. It felt so satisfying.

You're both heaving for a moment and his lips touch your shoulder and trail down your spine. A frisson runs up your spinal column and you're smiling like an idiot, with your cheek against the white linen pillow that was stained with tears and drool.

Simon slowly pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of his dick repleting in your guts, but he sighs in contentment when he admires the messy, opulent tumult you two had caused.

"Surely, that'll result in a child." He murmurs and then peers back up at you before you both end up in a fit of giggles and butterflies kisses.

But please feel free to run up on me, I'm prepared miss ma'am

Send me some reqs!!!

[wystiix]

"love is sour grapes"

❥ pairing: arlecchino x fem!reader ❥ synopsis: It's a rainy night and you're snoozing. Arlecchino just watches over you while thinking about your time together, and how far you both had come. ❥ cw: n/a ❥ additional tags: second pov perspective, reader is not traveler ❥ word count: 804 ❥ notes: hi hi so like ya i haven't played her story quest, but i wanted to write this dedicated to my bae (vel)!! i hope this isn't too inaccurate.. erm yeah. i was cooking this shit at 2am in the morning so take what you get. ❥ taglist: @honkai-freak (for u bbg) @mikashisus @tragedy-of-commons

According to the books, love is an intense feeling of deep affection. It is often portrayed as a positive feeling, from the butterflies fluttering in your stomach to the overall warmth that spreads throughout your entire being.

It can elevate you to the heights of bliss. At the same time, it can cut deeply enough to leave scars.

Arlecchino has experienced the latter. Her heart, if it still could be called that, had long been hardened like stone. What is love, if not a knife carefully pressed to her heart? She had avoided it for so long. The thought, the concept itself—it never dawned upon her.

Yet, here she was.

You slept soundly, snuggling in the sheets as you took off to the land of nod. Arlecchino simply observed you on the other side of the bed, watching your chest rise and fall to the sound of pouring rain outside. 

How would one describe such a complex feeling? Why did she feel all tingly whenever she thought of you?

She leaned in and brushed a few strands of your hair to the side, showing your peaceful, sleeping face. A slight prickle met her fingers and a warmth seeped through her chest as a result. There it was again.

It was almost hard to fathom—and pathetic—that people would go to any lengths for the sake of their beloved. However, now she understood. Now that you were here, she’d willingly hurl herself into a pit of barbed wires if you desired.

The faint warmth of your body coaxed her closer, unable to pull her gaze away from yours. Her eyes traced over your sleeping form, memorising the shape of your face that she so adored. She felt so… alive. Alive in a way that almost scared her.

What does it truly mean to deserve love? Is it something that must be earned like a hard-earned gift, or does it simply come to you?

Honestly, she wasn't sure herself. She didn't know why you had chosen… her out of all the people in Teyvat. Arlecchino didn't have to work for your love, no? She had already earned it according to you.

Deserving. That word left a bitter taste in her mouth. What did she do to deserve this peace, this unwavering affection? What did she do to deserve you at all? Nothing, she thought. And yet, you still chose her. Despite the amount of blood stains she had and the rough calluses on her hands, you still intertwined your fingers with hers, bringing them to your lips and pressing a tender kiss on each one.

Is love a blessing or a burden?

It was like a sour grape, once thought too sharp to swallow. Though, the grape turned out to be much sweeter than expected the more she chewed.

Perhaps, she'd be willing to bite the pain as well.

She scooted closer to you, her breath warm against your skin as she gently brushed her fingertips across your face. You stirred in your sleep, instinctively reaching out for her warmth, and she let you find her.

Silence enveloped the dark room as Arlecchino lay there, staring up at the ceiling. The rain pattering against the window mirrored the steady beat of your heart, grounding her in the present at this very moment. She stroked your hair lovingly, relishing the softness of it.

Soft, like fragile threads of silk. Her mind raced. That leaves her to ponder: what if she hurt you? What if the same hands of a Harbinger that had caused so much pain to others couldn’t hold you as gently as they should?

“I don’t deserve you.”

You didn’t seem to hear her. She felt you shift slightly once again, a soft mumble escaping your lips as your hand blindly reached out and curled around her fingers. Her fingers grazed your cheek again, gentler than the first touch as if she feared you’d slip away if she wasn’t careful. She pressed a fleeting kiss on your hair.

Arlecchino wanted to say so many things to you. How thankful she really was for someone to walk into her life.

She swallowed hard.

“Even then, I'm quite content it was you, I…” she paused, processing her thoughts.

The words were foreign on her tongue. She'd never spoken them before. However, the truth radiated from within.

“I love you.” 

The words slipped out, softer than she intended, but they felt right. They didn't have a bitter, sour aftertaste to it. It rolled off her tongue so, so easily. She wasn’t sure if you heard. If you didn’t… perhaps that was for the best.

She didn't deserve you. She never would.

But with the way you held onto her like an anchor, she knew one thing for certain—she would never let go of the one she cherished ever again.

[limethefirst]

Savior

pairings: Logan Howlett x teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: torture, violence

summary: after a year of being experimented on you’re finally saved and taken to a safe place where it’ll never happen again

a/n: Logan x platonic readers always have me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure so…here’s more!!! Logan is so bbg.. also Void Runner pt3 is in the works🫡

Normality was something people were used to seeing, most people were what the rest of society would consider ‘normal’.

Those who were considered ‘abnormal’ were mutants; humans who underwent a strange mutation that gave them the X-gene. Many viewed them as dangerous, evil even, many kidnapped and would experiment on them.

Unfortunately for you, you were a mutant, and to make it worse, one who was being experimented on and exploited.

Thankfully there were a group of people who were supposed to help and save these mutants, these people were the X-men. Today was your lucky day, today was the day you’d be saved, if only you knew that.

“Transfer 26 back to their cell,” an unknown guard said to your handler. Your eyes were trained to the ground, you knew talking would only cause punishment.

You’d been here for almost a year, your powers had devolved recently and you were quickly taken away.

The power of protection, or so that’s what most of the lab workers said. You had to power to conjure force fields around you as well as others or other objects, but you weren’t able to hold it for long; another perk of the power was you could conjure half shields, something you’d be able to use if you ever needed to protect only the front part of your body.

The walk back to your cell was taking its toll on your body, the constant pain and pressure you were put through finally attacking at you. Your wrists and neck itchy from whatever metal was around it, suppressing your powers.

Finally you tilted your head up, noticing the lack of mutants in the cells as you walked, you believed you were the last one left, the others dying from neglect or refusal to cooperate.

Before being able to be put into your cell, a loud ringing began to blaring over the compound, red lights flashed and everything shut down.

That’s when you saw him, The Fucking Wolverine.

His claws looked as if they were glistening against the contrast of the red, you watched as he began to take down many of the guards, each one down by the second. Your handler grabbed his smaller pistol; hidden within his lab coat for moments like this, but instead of aiming it at the beast in front of him, he grabbed you by your shirt.

He held the gun against your temple, the cold metal making a shiver go down your spine.

“Let the kid go,” You could hear Wolverines voice, it was stern but you could tell he was pissed; his jaw was clenched and his fist got tighter, his claws covered in blood, as was the floor.

It was almost as if luck had decided to visit you for the first time in years, because suddenly, everything shut down, the power was gone. The item suppressing your powers had just fallen down. The metal clinking against the floor.

This was your chance.

Quickly you summoned a shield around yourself, hearing a gun go off by your ear; but instead of a thump of a body hitting the floor, all that was heard was the sound of a bullet hitting the ground.

This was when Wolverine took the chance the strike, killing the man in an instant.

The man turned back to you, his face held not much emotion, maybe a hint of pity.

You weren’t able to say much, before you knew it you had passed out, perhaps the exhaustion from earlier finally caught up to you.

You slowly began to wake up, the room was the bright, it looked like a doctor’s office. You looked down, your white prison like clothes not replaced with a gown.

A taller woman entered the room, she noticed your eyes had opened, she gave you a warm smile and introduced herself as Dr Jean Grey, quickly excusing herself to go get the rest of the faculty.

Each person had said their hellos and such, besides two, the man in the wheel chair and Wolverine. The man in front of you began to talk but his mouth wasn’t moving, it was strange but he let himself explain before carrying on.

“Hello there dear,” the voice echoed in your mind, “I am Charles Xavier, I’m currently speaking to you through your mind if you haven’t noticed,” he looked at you for acknowledgment before continuing, “I’ve been looking for you for quite some time now, you’re currently at my school for gifted children, a place for mutant kids to learn about their abilities away from those who fear them, I’m here to offer you a place to stay.”

Charles looked at you, a warm smile on his face. He hoped you take him up on his offer, “I’d like that a lot,” you replied in your mind, assuming he’d be able to hear you as well. This was confirmed when he nodded at you and slowly left the room, but not before saying something you couldn’t hear to whoever was left in the room.

You looked at the man who’d saved you, his arms were crossed and he stood tall before you, “Listen kid, since you’re staying I’ll be helping you out a bit around here to you get used to it,” he said looking at your bruised arms, “I’m sure Charles told you what this place is and what not,”

But before he could say anything else you cut him off, “You’re name,” was all you could mutter before he finished his sentence.

“What?” He asked, confused by what you meant.

“What’s you’re name”

“Logan, I’ll be your history teacher and combat instructor,”

You blinked, confused before understanding he was probably a teacher here.

“Y/N, I’m Y/N,” you looked at the man, seeing if he’d say anything else, “Where will I stay?” You asked him.

“We have dorms, I’ll show you to yours right now, it’ll give you time to change and explore the place,”

“Hm alright, thank you”

“Don’t mention it kid,”

Logan showed you your room, it was ten times bigger than cage they held you in. Their first thing you did when Logan finally left was shower, once you exited you saw some clothes on the bed, with a note from another teacher here who you knew as Ororo or Storm.

Quickly you changed into the clothes, wanting to see the place.

When you left the room you noticed the hallway with a bunch of other doors, many rooms were empty; there was still lots of room for new mutants to make this their home too.

Slowly you made your way to the main hall, there were many other kids your age, each one with a special ability of some sort, you saw one kid with ice, another going through walls.

You started to make your way outside next, seeing more kids playing. Suddenly you hear someone yell.

“Watch out!” You put out your hands, a shield forming around the front of your figure. The kids who threw what seemed to be a football all cheered, before asking you to throw it back to them, which you hesitantly did.

You turned back around ready to head inside when someone stopped you.

“Didn’t think I’d get to see you use your power again so soon kid,” Logan was now at your side, walking you to the door.

“Would you rather I get a football to the head?” You smiled at him, a playful tug at your lips.

“So what do you think of the place?” He asked you, slightly eyeing your figure, trying to see if you felt comfortable yet.

“It’s big,” he smirked at your words, big was an understatement in his opinion. Then a sigh left you, “I feels like too much for me to take in, I can’t believe this isn’t a dream,”

Logan stopped walking, this causing you to stop too and look at him; he put his hand on your shoulder and looking you into your eyes, “Trust me, it feels like that at first but I promise you’re safe here now, if ever need someone you can always come find one of us, got it bub?”

“I got it Logan,” You gave him a warm smile, and you felt yourself feel somewhat better. The two of you began to walk back inside, you felt safer knowing you had someone in your corner now.

“Do you guys have Oreos here?”

“I can get you some.”

[juniperstale]

think i like you, best when you're just with me — ashlyn, aiden, taylor

⋆ jealousy they feel even though you're not dating [ . . . gn!reader, sfw, lowercase intended little angsty but fluff at the end, jealousy, aiden calls reader a bbg as a joke but im still considering this gn, reader is described as attractive (ashlyn), reader is described as pretty (aiden), cursing, taylor is very ooc . . . ]

ASHLYN is someone who is very in tune with her emotions. she's very well connected with herself and knows immediately when she likes you. that doesn't mean she'll tell you though. as the leader, she believes it to be her job to keep the entire group safe and that means not getting into a relationship with you as to focus on the major problem at hand. unfortunately, that doesn't stop her from getting dejected at the sight of you being flirted with.

you are attractive, everyone can agree on that. and you are not hers, that is a plain fact. yes, you two flirt sometimes, but that doesn't matter because she immediately stops and walks away when she feels things are getting too real. it's only to protect you, after all. maybe, after this was all done and over with, you two could be happy, together, in a relationship, as a couple.

her eyebrows furrow as she watches the scene in front of her unfold. she was clearly disgusted, her already mean rbf becoming ten times worse.

"okay well your shirt just looks really nice!" the stranger complimented as you looked down at her, a warm smile resting on your face. ashlyn was beside you the entire time, her arms crossed as she glared at the stranger. "thank you, thank you! well, it was nice to meet you-" you were tryng to end the conversation as quickly as you could so you could get back to hanging out with ashlyn who you could tell was frustrated. "ah! wait before you go could i have your instagram? number even?" the question caught you off guard but before you could respond ashlyn did so for you. her heart burned at such a question, even though you weren't hers, she was used to people just assuming you two were in a relationship when you were together and backing off of you. she was frustrated, no furious, that someone dared to make a move on you, her face contorting from her rbf to a scowl. "no." she replied for you, coldly, grabbing your hand and turning around as she sped off with you.

once you were at a far enough location, you were quick to question her. "what was that about ash?" you asked sincerely as you sat next to her on the bench, watching passerby's go about their lives. "you know what it was about." she responded quickly, avoiding eye contact as you let out a sigh. "i don't get it, if you like me you'd ask me out like the others, no?" you questioned again as she turned to look at you. "if you want to be in a relationship just say yes to 'the others,' no?" she questioned back as it became your turn to avoid her gaze. you stayed quiet for a few seconds before letting out a small, "i only want you though." with her super human hearing, she obviously heard you clearly, the tips of her ears turning a pretty shade of pink as she looks down at her feet, than back up at you, a sudden boost of confidence taking over her as her hands cup your cheeks, forcing you to look at her.

"trust me, the moment i can, i will."

if there is one word to describe AIDEN, it would not be quitter. from the moment he laid his eyes on you, you were his; to him and everyone around the two of you. he courted you relentlessly, flirting with you, buying you expensive gifts, dropping you off to your classes, picking you up. honestly people at your school eventually just assumed that it was no longer courting but that you were actually in an official relationship. and aiden was happy with that assumption, it only bothered him that strangers didn't also think so.

going to the nearest gas station, you and aiden decided to pick up snacks for yourselves and the rest of the group as an apology for being late. while at the cash register, you couldn't help but notice the nervous worker looking at you up at down as you took the items out your basket for him to scan. "is something the matter?" you ask him, to which he only blushes and shakes his head, avoiding eye contact with you while scanning all the snacks you were purchasing. you look down to grab your wallet which aiden stops you from doing by grabbing your arm, giving you a wink while whispering a joking "i gotchu, don't worry my baby girl." you only hit him back, a small laugh escaping you lips as you shake your head no before making eye contact with the cashier once more.

"you're so pretty." your eyes widen as aidens head practically shoots up to glare at the poor cahier whose thoughts accidently fell out of his mouth as words. "excuse you?" aiden questions as he swipes his card. "oh im so sorry! i didn't mean to say that!" he fumbles nervously, confirming aidens payment and grabbing bags as he clumsily places the snacks in. "it's totally fine! don't worry about it," you can't help but giggle at his behavior, watching the cashiers eyes grow even wider and blush get darker as he hands aiden the bags, wishing you a good rest of your day. you (and aiden) feel his eyes on you, watching you exit the store as you turn slightly, raising your hand to send him a goodbye wave but aiden grabs your hand before you can, effectively dragging you out of the store and to ashlyns place.

the walk was quiet and the atmosphere between the two of you were thick once you were reunited with the rest of the group. you all worked on your project a bit and argued over what the best next move to make would be before deciding to go to sleep. to your surprise, aiden still took his spot next to you as the entire group fell into a short slumber. unfortunately for you, the events of the day were still playing in your mind, causing you to fall in and out of a state of drowsiness. it didn't help that you could also feel aiden shifting next to you as well before he finally gave up on trying to avoid holding you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his neck.

"once we survive this night, we're gonna have to talk about making us official because if one more person tries to flirt with you, im going to lose my mind."

TAYLOR is not one to be jealous. no matter what you're relationship with her may be, she is calm and collected and knows how to express her feeling in a healthy way. that's why it was so shocking for her to walk in on you kissing a girl she'd never seen before, someone you'd never told her about. she felt her heart shatter into a billion pieces as her eyes welled with tears. she didn't know why, the two of you weren't even in a relationship so she had no right to feel this way, right? right.

she made her way into an empty classroom, sitting down at one of the desks and laying her head into her arms as she sighed, remembering the moment once again. it was weird, her heart stung at the thought of it, it almost made her nauseous.

she only lifted her head when she heard the door open, prepared to apologize to some teacher about being in their classroom without permission. to her surprise it was you.

"hey can we talk?" you ask as you make your way over to taylor who shakily nods her head with a quiet yes. you sit yourself on top of the table her head was previously laying on, "im so sorry taylor, i didn't mean for you to see tha-" shes quick to interrupt you, placing her hands on yours. "no! its totally fine, we're teens of course your going to be kissing people." she states before looking down at the table once again. "it's just a little confusing." she says. "what is?" you ask, not understanding what she was getting it. "well, when i saw you kissing that girl it kind of hurt. like my stomach started churning and i got dizzy. then there was this feeling in my heart- hey why are you laughing!" she asks, genuienly confused at your sudden burst of laughter. "im sorry, sorry! it just seems like you got jealous because you have a little crush on me." you're quick to apologize and respond, bringing your face close to hers as she blushes, subconsciously leaning in before your lips finally touched. when you finally pulled away, out of breath, she continued tug your shirt wanting more, something that seemed very out of her character for her.

"im gonna keep kissing you until the lipstick from her lips is replaced with mine."

4.14.24 ⋆ NOT PROOFREAD! bro taylors is so out of character towards the end wtf happened omg. anyways part 2 with tyler, logan and ben will be out soon. also its my first time writing for something that isn't bsd so lets see how this goes!

[pedroscowgirl]

Hi sweetheart🫶🏻🤍

I was wondering if you could do a Hugh Jackman x kind! fem reader, where he's having a tiring day and comes back home. You've cooked him a nice dinner and made pumpkin spiced cinnamon rolls for desert🫶🏻He appreciates the settlement and wants to give something back, but it was his night.

I love your fics bbg <3

A warm fall night

Hugh jackman x fem!reader

Warnings: smut/fluff, minors dni!

P in v (wrap it up guys), creampie, oral m!receiving, couch sex , slight mention of alcohol (not too much), reader has hair lmk if I forgot something🙏🏼

masterlist

A/n: hi bb! Thank you sm for always supporting me! 🫶🏻 sorry it took so long, but I hope u like this💋

The door to your home creaked open softly, and you heard the familiar shuffle of shoes against the doormat as Hugh stepped inside. The late evening sun cast an orange glow through the windows, but the air carried the first crisp hints of autumn. You glanced up from the kitchen counter, already knowing by the way he moved that it had been a long day. His shoulders were hunched with exhaustion, and the usual spark in his eyes had dimmed.

“Hey,” you greeted warmly, putting down the dish towel and walking over to him. “You’re home.”

Hugh turned toward you, his smile small but genuine. “Yeah. Finally,” he said, his deep voice gravelly with fatigue. He placed his bag by the door and kicked off his shoes, letting out a heavy breath. He looked so worn down, and all you wanted was to make sure he left his troubles at the door tonight.

“You look tired honey” you observed softly, reaching up to smooth your hand across his arm in a comforting gesture.

“Long day. I feel like I’ve been running on fumes,” he admitted, leaning into your touch. “But it’s better now.” His eyes found yours, full of gratitude already.

“Well, I thought you might need something nice to come home to,” you said, guiding him toward the kitchen table. “Sit down and relax. I made your favourite." He sat down and looked up at you,"you are my favourite"

Hugh looked at the food and raised a brow, and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips despite his tiredness. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“Of course I did,” you replied with a soft laugh. “You’ve been working so hard lately, I wanted to make sure you could unwind tonight.”

The table was set simply but beautifully, with candles flickering in the center and a hearty meal waiting for him. Grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and buttery mashed potatoes, comfort food at its finest. You placed a glass of red wine in front of him, watching as he took it all in. He looked touched, almost overwhelmed for a moment.

“This looks incredible,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to you. “I can’t tell you how much I needed this.”

“You don’t have to,” you said, smiling as you sat down across from him. “Just enjoy it.”

As Hugh dug into the meal, you could see the tension start to leave his body. Each bite seemed to relax him a little more, and you felt a sense of satisfaction just watching him unwind. It was rare for him to take a moment for himself; he was always giving so much to everyone else, always on the go. Tonight, though, you were determined to make sure he felt appreciated.

After a while, you cleared the plates and returned to the kitchen, a playful grin on your face. “I hope you saved some room,” you called over your shoulder.

“For what?” Hugh asked, leaning back in his chair, his interest piqued.

You turned around, holding a tray of pumpkin spiced cinnamon rolls, the golden-brown swirls drizzled with a light glaze, still warm from the oven. The sweet scent of cinnamon and nutmeg filled the air, instantly making the room feel cozier.

His eyes widened as you set the tray down on the table. “You made these? You’ve been busy.”

“Just wanted to make sure dessert was special too,” you said, sliding one of the rolls onto a plate and handing it to him. “Pumpkin spice is perfect this time of year, don’t you think?”

Hugh chuckled, taking a bite and closing his eyes in pure enjoyment. “You’re spoiling me tonight,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “These are amazing.”

You sat down next to him, watching him enjoy the dessert, your heart swelling with affection. There was something so satisfying about knowing you’d given him a bit of comfort after such a hard day.

Hugh took your hand across the table, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of your palm. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said softly. “You always seem to know exactly what I need.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you replied, smiling as you squeezed his hand. “Tonight’s all about you. You give so much of yourself to everyone, I just wanted to make sure you get a little something back.”

He was quiet for a moment, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as he looked at you with a deep sense of appreciation. “You don’t know how much that means to me. I’m so lucky to have you.”

You could see it in his eyes, the weariness fading, replaced by something softer, more relaxed. He had needed this—a night to feel cared for, a night where he didn’t have to be “on” or worry about anyone else.

After dessert, you led him over to the couch, the soft glow of the candles still flickering in the background as you settled down beside him. He stretched out, pulling you into his arms, and you both melted into the cushions, the warmth of the evening wrapping around you.

“This,” Hugh said quietly, his arm draped over your shoulders as you leaned into him, “is perfect. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to just... be in a while.”

You nestled closer, your head resting on his chest as you listened to the steady beat of his heart. “You deserve it. No need to do anything tonight. Just relax.”

Hugh chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I know it’s supposed to be my night, but I can’t help it. I want to give something back.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, smiling. “You being here is more than enough.”

But he wasn’t having it. Gently, he shifted, pulling you on his lap and his lips found yours in a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, his voice was low and sincere. “You make everything better, you know that?”

You shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the warmth of his body beneath yours. As you moved, you could feel him growing beneath you, the subtle shift in his breath giving him away. His hands instinctively tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as you began to gently grind against him, your movements slow and deliberate.

A soft groan escaped his lips, his head falling back as he gave in to the sensation, eyes fluttering closed. The way he responded to you, completely immersed, sent a thrill through your body. You reveled in the control you held, the connection building between you.

But just as the heat began to build, you slowly pulled away, rising from his lap with a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips. His eyes opened, clouded with desire as he watched your every move. Without breaking the gaze, you reached down, undoing the button of his pants, your fingers deft and patient.

You freed him gently, your touch light and careful, feeling the weight of the moment between you. You knelt before him, your lips finding his dick.

Each sound he made, each quiet groan or sharp intake of breath—spurred you on, filling the room with a charged energy. His hand flew to your hair, his fingers tangled in the strands as he guided you with barely perceptible movements, letting you set the pace. Every motion was filled with deliberate care, a mixture of affection and desire growing stronger between you.

You could feel the tension in his body mounting, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His breathing became heavier, ragged with anticipation, and you knew he was close. His hips bucked slightly, and the warmth of his body against you sent a wave of satisfaction coursing through you. You could sense him nearing the edge, so you quickened your pace, eager to give him everything he wanted.

But then, just as his breathing hitched and his grip in your hair tightened, he suddenly stopped you. His hand slid from your hair to your chin, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, your breath catching as you realized how close he was. A soft whine escaped your lips, the loss of contact leaving you yearning for more, but his gaze, dark and full of desire, held you in place.

“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, thick with need. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, making you shiver in anticipation. “I want you to ride me, babygirl.”

The way he said it, so calm yet commanding, sent a thrill through you. You bit your lip, a flush of heat rising in your chest as your mind raced. Without a word, you nodded and took your pants off, a smile playing on your lips as you shifted your weight and moved to straddle him. His hands immediately found your waist, guiding you into position, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that made your pulse quicken.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, the feeling of him beneath you igniting every nerve in your body. His low groan vibrated through the air, and you felt his grip tighten as you sank down fully, taking him in. For a moment, you stayed still, letting the intensity of the connection settle between you both. The room was filled with quiet breaths and the electric hum of anticipation, each of you lost in the feeling of the other.

His hands slid from your waist up your sides, fingers grazing your skin as he urged you to move. You began to roll your hips, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that matched the deep, unspoken connection between you. His head fell back against the couch, his eyes closing as he let out a soft, guttural moan. The way he reacted to your every movement, the way his body responded so naturally to yours, only encouraged you to go further.

As you moved, your hands found his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath his shirt. The friction, the closeness—it all felt so perfect, like the two of you were made for this moment. His hands never left your body, guiding you, lifting you, as you moved together in sync. His breath was ragged now, his voice low and strained as he whispered your name, filling the space between groans of pleasure.

The pace quickened, and the tension between you built with every movement, each of you caught in a loop of need and desire. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer, urging you on. Your bodies moved in perfect unison, your breath mingling with his, the closeness of it all making your heart race.

Your pace quickened even more as you felt him tense beneath you, his grip on you becoming almost desperate. His groans grew louder, and you knew he was close again—this time, you weren’t going to stop. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, your lips barely brushing his as you whispered, “I’ love you.”

With that, everything between you seemed to reach its peak. His body responded to yours in perfect rhythm, and together you chased your realease, both completely enveloped in the heat of each other. "I love you to sweetheart. So much.."he moaned as he came into you.

The rest of the night was spent in quiet bliss, the two of you wrapped in each other’s presence. Hugh’s exhaustion slowly faded as the night wore on, replaced by a calm contentment. For once, he wasn’t thinking about work or responsibilities, just you, and the warmth of the home you had created together.

As you both drifted off into sleep, tangled in each other’s arms, you couldn’t help but feel that tonight had been exactly what he needed. A reminder that no matter how hard the world was on him, there was always a place for him to rest, always a place where he was cherished. And that place was with you.

taglist (dm if u wanna be added): @ermlady @elloredef @haytchee @melaninjoys @megangovier @blue2jay @hearts4suri @narniabusinessbitch @jadenlyday25 @getmeoutofhell @rockytheluver @stark-ironman @shellbilee @kurcoswife @ru-kru @corvusmorte

[beomiracles]

okay i was listening to santa baby and hear me out,

sugar daddy yeonjun or soobin that wants to spoil their sugar baby for christmas with a bunch of jewelry and shit nd on christmas day they give you the yummiest christmas gift of all. like they take u out on a sparkling champagne dinner night and he’s all dressed in a silk black button down, sleeves rolled to the elbows and glasses MMMM. and when they get home, it’s all fire-place warmed and he has you open presents from him, and ofc he spoiled you rotten.

they can be dilfs or not u choose bbg. merry christmas and i love you >.<

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄'𝐒; 𝓐𝓓𝓥𝓔𝓝𝓣 𝓒𝓐𝓛𝓔𝓝𝓓𝓐𝓡 NUMBER 5 ; ❝𝐓𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞❞

Swallowing a gulp, your heart hammering in your chest, you carefully undo the last of the wrapping. The box you’re presented with reeks of money, it’s small, but feels heavy in your palm, and your eyes widen as you recognize the expensive brand. “Soobin, I..” — “Please.” He interrupts, sitting up a bit straighter as he nods in the direction of the box, “Open it.” 

pairings — sugar daddy!soobin x fem!reader warnings — filthy rich!soobin, fingering, some praise and worshipping, he's down bad yes :3

#serene adds ✎.. sprintbot made me get this done in 30 minutes exactly, what the actual flip. kipo and ash were grinding too y'all should have seen us oh my goodness !! AND HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAY TO SOOBIN <3

⸝⸝

Your fingers brush over the smooth wrapping, carefully picking the ribbon apart as you place it on the coffee table in front of you. Biting the inside of your cheek, your eyes flicker between the small present in your hands and over to Soobin who was watching you from the couch. The tie around his neck hangs loosely, the first few buttons of his black dress shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up, exposing his veiny forearms. 

His dark gaze lingers by your hesitant fingers around the wrapping. “Go on, open it.” The command sends a small shiver down your spine and you nod as you oblige. The sound of paper tearing joins the crackling of firewood burning in the fireplace of your otherwise quiet living room. 

Swallowing a gulp, your heart hammering in your chest, you carefully undo the last of the wrapping. The box you’re presented with reeks of money, it’s small, but feels heavy in your palm, and your eyes widen as you recognize the expensive brand. “Soobin, I..” — “Please.” He interrupts, sitting up a bit straighter as he nods in the direction of the box, “Open it.” 

Tongue instinctively darting out to wet your lips, you slowly pull the lid open. The necklace resting on the smooth velvet inside, sparkles in the faint glow the fireplace provides. Your jaw falls open as you hesitantly brush a finger over the undoubtedly expensive jewelry. “Oh, love”, you exhale, “You really shouldn’t have..” But Soobin won’t hear any of it. 

His finger beckons you over and without a second thought, you comply. Moving around the small coffee table, you stop between his spread legs as you glance down at him. He doesn’t say anything, merely reaching a hand out as he runs it along your forearm, when he reaches your wrist his fingers clasp around it, gently tugging you onto his lap. 

“I got it handpicked for you”, he explains as he plucks the jewelry from its box, turning it in his hands before his attention returns to you. — “Not nearly as exquisite as you, but it will do.” The relaxed tone he used, even when complimenting you like that, made your heart flutter uncontrollably. 

You shiver when his large hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck. The necklace feels light against your skin, and you hold your tongue as he secures the lock. When he’s done he leans back, straightening it carefully before he lets his hands wander down your sides, getting a firm squeeze on your hips before stilling. 

His dark eyes are all over you, and you fight the urge to squirm under his intense gaze. “Perfect”, he exhales, watching as the gems sparkle on you. — “I…How much was it..?” You quietly wonder, suddenly feeling guilty. He’d taken you out to dinner, 

paid for the entire meal, not to mention the expensive dress you were currently wearing. And then there was your nail appointment last week, and your hair the one before that… 

Soobin only shakes his head, huffing under his breath. His thumb on your cheek makes you instantly smile as you lean into the simple yet affectionate touch. “Don’t worry about that, love.” It’s all he says, his hands moving to cup your chin as he pulls you down for a kiss. He tastes sweet, familiar, and safe. The heavy cologne he wore infiltrating your senses as you lose yourself in the moment. 

Yet you can’t help but pull back, your lips separating for a brief moment. “Still, I…I want to give you something too, I..” You trail off, biting your cheek anxiously as you do. Soobin hums, his other hand moving down the outskirts of your thigh, gently slipping the dress he’d bought you up over your hips. 

“Giving yourself to me”, he mumbles, his fingers brushing the hem of your panties, “Like this”, he pulls the soft fabric to the side, “It’s more than enough.” — You bite back a small gasp when he slides his middle and pointer finger between your folds, teasing your clit as he gauges your reaction. 

“You existing in the same world as me”, he says, carefully pushing his middle finger inside you, and you emit a soft moan, hands grabbing onto his broad shoulders to ground yours. “In my world. That's all I need.” — “You’re all I need. Nothing else.” 

You want to say something, thank him, tell him that you love him, that you would be nothing without him. But all you can manage is a small cry as he adds a second finger, pushing them in and out of your already drenched cunt. — His other hand fiddles with the jewelry around your neck, admiring the way it rests on top of your skin. 

“I like it when you wear the things I get you”, he says, “Makes me feel closer to you.” He looked thoughtful, his fingers inside your cunt moving almost absentmindedly, yet he made you almost feral as your nails dug into the apex of his shoulder, tearing the black material of his dress shirt. 

“Soobin I..” Your voice comes out near breathless, your lips swollen from biting on them and all you can think of are his hands on you, wanting them everywhere all at once. But he only hums, snapping out of his trance as he feels you clench around him, your orgasm being the best gift he could ever receive. 

His mouth is hot against yours when he kisses you, teeth clashing together as the hand fiddling with your necklace moves to the back of your neck, tugging you impossibly closer. “Promise to always bless me like this”, he murmurs against your lips, ignoring the way your thighs shake as he presses his thumb against your overstimulated clit. 

All you can do is nod, uttering a small, “I will.”

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[gojonanami]

i want to spoon the dilfs 🥺

would you mind writing some stuff where the guys get to be little spoon at some point?

thank you bbg ilysm

i have so many thoughts about this

NANAMI

there was nothing more nanami wanted then to be held by you after a long day — especially if he had overtime. you always could almost see it written all over his face when he came home — brow furrowed and shoulders slumped. so you’d help him — help him get undressed, start a hot bath, wash him, and then get him into bed for a nap before dinner. usually nanami was the one with an arm thrown over your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, but on days like this, he wanted to be held. you slip under the covers beside him, your chest pressed to his back, as you wrapped your arm around him, your face buried between his broad shoulders. and he never had never felt so loved before — even so safe. because he knew he could just be — just exist — and that was enough for you. and for him

GOJO

gojo would insist on being the little spoon, loving the feeling of your arms around his middle, your face buried in the nape of his neck. he’d tease and say he only could sleep soundly with your arms around him. as much as he loves to engulf you with his long limbs, he loves the feeling of you pressed against him — a reminder that you chose him, just as he is, not as the strongest, just as gojo satoru. by morning, he’s rolled over to face you in his sleep, face buried in your chest, his warm breath tickling your skin.

GETO

after amanai’s death, suguru had a lot of nightmares, waking up in cold sweats and seized breaths. the only thing that gave him any comfort was your body next to his in his bed. it started when neither of you could sleep, spending the night in his dorm, until the two of you had ended up in bed together, lying beside each other. his back was to you, and you woke to the sounds of his rapid breaths and murmured words, and you curled around him, your arm around his middle, as you pressed yourself to him. you murmur quiet reassurances in his ear, until his breath slowed and he fell back asleep. and you'd spend almost every night like that after that.

CHOSO

choso loves being the little spoon, after everything that happened in shibuya and beyond, he has a lot of anxiety about you and yuji getting hurt. being the little spoon reminds you that you're right there, and you're fine. he loves feeling you play with his hair as you press yourself to his back, pressing sweet kisses to the back of his neck. he loves waking up with your face buried in his back, your soft breaths warming his skin, before he finally turns to press a kiss to your lips to rouse you.

[fictionismyreality3]

Before You Go (18+)

Warnings: romance and everything that come with it, SMUT AT THE END

Notes: thank u lana del rey for giving me this title 🫡 he’s so lana coded. we love our emotionally stunted bbg simon

Kisses with Simon weren’t always as easy as they had become over the years of you being together.

There was a time when Simon wouldn’t even let you touch anything but his hands or his arms. It took coaxing him like a scared animal, gentle words you offered again and again for him to finally take his balaclava off. That was a good night. You can still remember his shakiness, hands that had been so steady taking a life now quivering at the act of being known.

“Just fuckin’ hurry up.” He snapped, but the anger tasted more like fear when it left his mouth.

“You aren’t gonna want-”

The words of self-loathing barely met the air before you’d leaned down, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. You held his hand as his breath heaved, not commenting on the way his whole body trembled when your lips finally connected with his.

Then there were kisses of maintenance.

At least, that’s what Ghost thought of them as. Keeping you as his slowly became the most important part of his life, the need to have you weaselled its way into his soul. He had no fucking clue how to how to make sure you stayed. He didn’t even really know why you showed up in the first place, but whatever gods that still thought he was worthy enough had given him you, and he wasn’t going to damage the opportunity.

You were his girl.

But Simon was oblivious to how to keep a woman happy. Yeah, he fucked you raw every chance he could, he beat the shit out of anyone you frowned at, but the gentleness you exuded existed nowhere in himself.

It was only when he’d been cleaning his guns, not on the kitchen table because you didn’t like that, that he got a little spark of understanding.

He had to take care of you.

Never letting you go without a reminder that he was always around. It started with morning and night kisses, making sure you were stuck with the taste of him even in your dreams. He’d find you when you were cooking, pressing his lips to your cheek or the top of your head without saying a word. It was nothing intense, just a subtle way that he made sure you were real.

“Si? You okay?” The weight of Ghost hugging you from behind made your heart warm, and you put down the wooden spoon you were holding.

“Yeah.” A kiss to your temple. “M’okay now.”

Marking you up with hickeys that even one of your oversized hoodies couldn’t cover was his way of maintaining your relationship, and knowing you had a visible memento of his claim on you every time you looked in the mirror helped him feel a little more secure.

And then there were the fervent kisses.

Lips colliding in the dim, warm light of your bedroom, Simon’s large hands holding your hips down as he kept you on his lap. He’d swallow every sound you made, knowing he had to leave in the morning. Not being able to see you for months, or even longer, spurred him with the urge to leave you with a lasting memory. He could have you forget him when he was gone.

It didn’t matter if you were tired, he’d force you down onto the bed, drawing mewls and gasps from your lips as he tried to memorize every detail of your body before he went off on his next mission. Latching his lips to the inside of your thighs, he’d suck hard enough to leave a hickey that would take weeks to fade.

“Not gonna leave ya.” He’d echo, kissing your clit like it would offer some form of protection for wherever he was being sent to.

“Gonna keep you all t’myself.” His soft lips would kiss at your even softer cunt, devouring every twitch and shudder that went through you. “Si. Si, I can’t-”

It didn’t matter if you’d been up all night, trapped under the weight of his hands while he ate you without faltering. “You can take it. C’mon, dovie, be a good girl an’ give me one more.” He wouldn’t stop until you were limp on the sheets and he was nose deep in your pussy, permanently engraving his name on your clit with his tongue.

And when he left in the morning, he left knowing your lips were sore.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

thinking about thigh riding…

— been wanting to write this for a while and im on my period so needed to write this. also, I couldn’t decide which one of my bf’s to write for, so used ~him~ (check tags for characters)

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

18+ fem!reader, mdni

imagine the way he looks up at you, neck craned back with a soft smirk on his face. his low-hanging lids concentrating on your agape mouth, intensely studying the pleasure build on your face. him watching your brows knit and eyes flutter, watching the way shudder-like breaths slip past your puffed lips.

imagine his large masculine hands on your waist, holding and guiding your movements. encouraging you as you grind your naked self over his bare thigh.

imagine him focusing on your hard nipples, watching the tempting view as they move in a sway-like motion inches away from his face. how his top teeth would clamp on his bottom lip, physically restraining himself with flared nostrils, breathing heavily.

imagine the strained noises he'd make as he watches you, how he'd struggle to contain himself. how he wishes he could be inside of you right now, but he can't. not yet. all he can do is watch. watch you use him to get yourself off.

imagine his hands trailing over you, his fingers dragging along your warm skin, spread wide over your bare back to feel more of you.

imagine him caving in. how he'd harshly exhale before finally taking your perk nipple in his mouth. how he'd hungrily suck on them, kiss and caress them. how his big, manly hands would cup your perfect tits, how they'd fit so nicely in his palm. how he'd be so desperately delicate with them, rolling and kneading them with his eyes glued on your lips.

imagine him trailing open-mouth kisses from your tits and along your chest, all up the length of your neck. how he'd suckle and nibble on your throat, mumble sweet nothings against your heated skin.

imagine his low, gravelly voice as he praises you. how he whispers, "thatagirl, god— you look so pretty," as he leans further back in the chair, watching more of you. the gentle smirk on his face as his eyes dart over you. how you'd capture his full undivided attention, watching you in pure focus.

imagine his strong hands trailing back down to your waist, guiding you as you reach your everlonging high.

imagine the way he continues to praise you, how he can't help but compliment and encourage his pretty, perfect girl as she lets go. he'd whisper reassurances as you cum, saying, "that's it, honey. that's it— let go. go on, princess, keep going."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

** uhm, ignore all the looking and watching stuff for the matt tag. I couldn’t leave our bbg out, so had to tag him 😭

[azure-eons]

𓂃₊ ⊹ Sunday x Gn!Reader

╰┈➤ Warnings: None

╰┈➤ Word count: 1055

╰┈➤ A/n: C'MON BBG JUST COME HOME UGH-

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

“Is it alright now?” Your voice cut through the stillness of the night, soft yet steady as it broke the silence of the shared bedroom.

A quiet hum of confirmation came from Sunday, and you smiled, continuing to gently brush through his soft, sky-blue hair. How often you had dreamed of moments like this when your relationship was confined to the fragile boundaries of friendship. Back then, you had only imagined running your fingers through these silky locks. Now, reality was kinder, offering you the chance to cradle this intimacy, savoring every second.

You worked through his hair with care, ensuring each stroke was gentle enough to avoid tugging or causing him discomfort. For you, brushing Sunday’s hair wasn’t just an act of grooming—it was an act of love. The way his locks slid through your fingers, the way he sat still with such quiet trust, and the way his head wings occasionally twitched under your touch—all of it filled your heart with an indescribable warmth.

Ah, his wings. Those delicate, feathery appendages that framed his head so beautifully. They were part of him, part of the being you adored so deeply. You remembered how hesitant he had been at first to let you near them. Back in the early days of your relationship, when your love was still tentative and new, you’d asked—timidly—if you could touch them. He had politely declined, explaining in his gentle way that they were sensitive, almost sacred to him, and not something he shared lightly.

But now, as time had woven your lives together, you found those barriers softening.

“Still okay?” you asked softly, breaking your own train of thought, making sure you werent diisturbing him. Sunday’s hum returned, and you resumed brushing.

A quiet song slipped past your lips as you hummed Robin’s tune, the melody wrapping around the two of you like a blanket. As the last tangle gave way under your fingers, you set the brush aside. Something emboldened you then—perhaps it was love, or maybe the quiet intimacy of the moment. Either way, the decision came to you like a whisper.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to the base of one of his head wings. The reaction was immediate—a soft flinch, the feathered appendage quivering in response. You pulled back slightly, searching his face for any sign of discomfort, but Sunday said nothing, his calm demeanor betraying no protest.

And so, you pressed another kiss there, this time lingering just a little longer. Still no resistance. Encouraged, you began to pepper his wings with light, butterfly kisses, moving from the tips to the bases. Each touch elicited the faintest twitch, the wings fluttering under your affection despite his composed exterior.

They were warm and impossibly soft, more delicate than you’d imagined. The room seemed to fade into the background as you continued, pouring all the love you felt into each kiss. By the time you reached the base of both wings, you noticed Sunday’s hands gripping the edge of his seat, his expression calm but his body giving away his quiet surrender to your touch.

“Sunday,” you whispered softly, brushing a lock of hair from his face as you leaned in close, “I love everything about you—every piece, every part.”

For once, Sunday’s wings didn’t twitch in response. Instead, they folded closer to his head, like a silent embrace, a small yet profound acknowledgment of the bond you shared.

Sunday turned his head slightly, his deep eyes meeting yours with a soft, unreadable expression. His lips parted as though he was about to speak, but instead, he sighed quietly, leaning back into you. The faintest smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as if he was reluctant to show just how much your affection meant to him.

“...You’re relentless, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and soft, tinged with the faintest hint of exasperation. But it lacked any real weight—it was more a gentle acknowledgment than a complaint.

You chuckled, your fingers once again finding their way to his hair, running through the strands with practiced ease. “Not relentless,” you replied teasingly. “Just in love.”

Sunday let out a soft laugh—so quiet, it was almost a breath. His wings, now relaxed against his head, twitched slightly as if they were reacting to his unspoken emotions. He wasn’t one for grand displays, but moments like these, where he allowed himself to be vulnerable and open with you, spoke volumes.

You leaned closer, resting your chin on his shoulder, your arms loosely wrapping around him from behind. The warmth radiating from him was soothing, and you could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, calm and steady.

“Your wings… they’re so beautiful, you know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. “Every time they move, it’s like they’re speaking for you when you won’t.”

He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening further. “They’re a part of me,” he said after a moment. “A part I thought I’d always keep to myself. But... with you, I feel like I don’t have to.”

The admission hung in the air between you, fragile yet profound. You tightened your embrace just slightly, pressing your forehead against the side of his. “Thank you,” you murmured, your words carrying the weight of everything you couldn’t say aloud.

He turned his head, his nose brushing against your temple. “I should be thanking you,” he replied quietly, his voice steady but full of warmth. “For being patient. For... understanding.”

The silence that followed was comfortable, filled only by the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of his wings as they shifted slightly. You could have stayed like that forever, basking in the quiet intimacy that defined your bond.

Finally, Sunday broke the silence. “You’re going to keep kissing them every chance you get, aren’t you?” he asked, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

You grinned against his shoulder. “Absolutely. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

He laughed again, his wings giving a playful flick in response. “You’re impossible,” he said, though there was no mistaking the fondness in his tone.

“And you love me for it,” you countered, pressing a quick kiss to his temple.

Sunday sighed in mock defeat, leaning back into you once more. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I do.”

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╰┈➤ A/n: Guys I'm stellar jadeless idk what to do anymore-

[gloomwitchwrites]

Still in love/obsessed ex-husband

A still in love and obsessed ex-husband can be answered in various ways. I thought I'd make this one a little loosey goosey and stretch the definition of "ex-husband" here a tad bit. I also split "still in love" and "obsessed." My personal HC about these characters actions around those two phrases will certainly vary.

Anyway, here are four quick drabbles on the topic (And thank you for your patience as I fulfill requests.)

Find the Imagines & What If Series Masterlist HERE

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): reconciliation, fluff, light angst, suggestive themes, swearing, marriage, strained and established relationships, stalking

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“I still have it.”

“Have what?” you ask.

“Your wedding dress,” answers John.

“I told you to return it. And the ring.”

John shakes his head. “Couldn’t bring myself to do it. Still in my closet.”

“You don’t want to.”

“No.”

“Why?” you ask.

“You know why, love.”

You sigh. “Did you sign the papers?”

“No,” he answers automatically. “Why would I? When you’re clearly still in love with me.”

“John.”

“You promised me an army.”

“I’ve given you three,” you murmur, thinking of your children with him.

John smiles, and you melt. “We can make number four right here.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“What’s this?”

“Nothing.”

“Show me.”

You keep your hand behind your back. Johnny grins down at you, one eyebrow raised. Johnny is fast, snagging your arm and bringing your hand into the light.

His gaze drops to the diamond on your finger.

“You still wear it,” he breathes.

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, love. It does.” He steps closer, one warm hand cupping your cheek.

You lean into him, not wanting to admit out loud what still holds true in your heart.

“You still love me,” he teases.

“And?” you prompt.

He draws you close. “And I still want you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Signing this won’t change anything. You know this.”

Kyle is right and you hate that he is. Grasping the back of your neck, Kyle threads his fingers through your hair. Twisting. Gripping. Arching your neck.

He draws you forward, lips nearly brushing over yours. “You know I’d burn everything down for you. Walk any distance. I will never be rid of you. Never.”

Kyle’s words are searing. They sit heavy in your chest.

“Do you not feel the same?” He shakes his head. “I don’t believe that.”

The divorce papers are scattered across the kitchen table.

You swallow. “Shred them.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost is a wraith.

He watches from the shadows. He knows your every step, who you talk to, and what your day looks like. He has always known. Even before you called him husband—and before that boyfriend—Ghost learned your habits.

He sits. Waits.

You glance over your shoulder with no idea how close he is, trying to find his in. Because he will. He will have you.

The current boyfriend will disappear.

Just like the last one.

Because Ghost made it happen.

All he needs is time and then, he can put his ring back on your finger.

Taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[n0tamused]

a proud elf fucker has come to disturb ur peace bbygurl smug tiktok emoji

so,,,, humans are more openly affectionate and touchy-touchy compared to the elves right? hand holding, smooching ur friends’ forehead or cheeks for good luck or saying goodbye or when showing u have missed each other or an arm around the other’s waist when comfortably sitting beside each other and chatting.

how would the elves react to this? like a human s/o (before courting) who is just generally so,,,,,,, affectionate (i dunno how many characters you would accept pookie but im mainly thinking of thranduil, legolas, feren and lindir for this)

expect me more in ur inbox pookie😚(a threat)

A/n: Come by my door again and I will throw you out (a warm meal awaits you inside). This is more of a ramble than really my usual headcanons that I do for characters. A reminder again - but I am a bit rusty with writing for these characters, so this is me rambling about them so I can explore them better. Unapologetically longer part for Legolas bc he is my bbg. Didn't do Feren for this one, but I hope to add his part on this prompt in the future. Hope you enjoy pookie!

Contents: Thranduil, Legolas, Lindir x GN!Reader (separate), fluff. not proof-read so expect grammar mistakes (very scary)

Words: 1471

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Thranduil

-Listen- Thranduil is hard to reach, he’s a tough nut to crack as one may say, and he is quite distrustful of strangers, but this is not a scenario where you’re a stranger to him, oh no. 

-While you have caught the interest of the elven king and as his knowledge is ever so deep on both elven customs and that of man, he can’t say he has ever indulged in the human customs quite so much. You sort of make him want to indulge in it all. 

-Thranduil is not the one to hastily discard his public image and reputation for the sake of a fleeting touch of fingers or a graze of your lips across his cheek in a farewell bidding, yet seeing you do so with your company with which you travel with makes him think.

-For a mind that has seen so many centuries and so many faces, you have made him feel as if the memories of friends of old and strangers came before his eyes only in preparation to see you. Quite weird, but it is what his mind makes him think. Were you sent to his path for a reason?

-And where do you get your baldness from, to try and touch him so easily? What makes you think that is proper? When have you become so brazen when just yesterday you seemed to struggle with speaking to him formally? 

-He does request your company alone from time to time, walks through the woods and dinnertime especially, and this opens way for more privacy and attempts at intimacy.

-Here, you’d find him more forgiving at accepting your advances

-He is still getting used to the feel which your hands leave behind after gripping his own hand or his arm, or the tug at his sleeve the poke of your fingers at his side - yet he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. It’s such a small change in his life, but it feels surreal to experience it all the same when he is so used to the generally the same routine and schedule, especially in his relations with others. 

-At the end of the journey of your outing, he’d return the gestures with one of his own, one a bit more subtle than yours, but he makes sure his kisses on your knuckles linger

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Legolas

-Humans are touchy, yes, Legolas has witnessed much of this displayed affection since he departed Mirkwood for his journeys, but what he felt when he saw all of it wasn’t shock or disgust like some of his peers felt when they saw these “crude and hasty customs” - rather he felt some longing instead, a yearning.

-He craves a close connection too, but he is hopeless in seeking it out in the world of mortals and he is a bit without a clue on how to develop such a closeness with someone. He wasn’t raised in a place where emotions are foreign, but as established before - human and elven customs do differ, and they both perceive emotions and displays of it differently. You can say Legolas fits a bit more into whatever human ways are of expressing emotions. Firm hand holds and tight hugs instead of brush of fingers and longing looks during long periods of courting. Man, Legolas just craves a strong friendship, let alone a relationship

-I think it would be safe to say Legolas is touch-starved in his own right, simply put

-So when you come along, and you both click as companions? He is quite happy to put it lightly. I don’t think there is an adequate term that can summarize his elven giddiness when he simply sees you being openly affectionate with your friends, he feels a sense of belonging since you are not a stranger he observed, but someone he has come to understand too. He knows your name, your story, what you do and don’t like

-Yet this doesn’t prepare him for when you show the same affection to him as well. Suddenly all lectures and elven courting rules and traditions come pouring in his head all within a blink of an eye and it is the first time you have seen him look so taken aback. 

-He doesn’t reject your advances however, he’s much more accepting of them than his father, and it is just you and your shared small company, sometimes not even them, that get to see this exchange. He is.. giddy, quite happy.

-It feels fulfilling sharing in the affections, although he is much more reserved than you by quite a lot - he tries though. He’d still absolutely love it if you accepted his proposal of courting, so he can court you properly and as you deserve. Please let him he is on the edge of his seat, he is about to fall off waiting

-Despite what he feels and how human his smiles and expressions have become since you began to pay him this attention, he is patient, he moves at a slower pace than you and he is your grounding rock when you become too hasty

-It is not a rare sight to see him draping his cloak around you, or - at your request - see him sitting next to you huddled under the same cloak or a blanket by the fire. Coziest he has ever been tbh…

-In some summary - your hands are held gently, your brows are kissed tenderly and you are well taken care of with him around

-(Please send me more Legolas thoughts or requests I love my bbg sm)

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Lindir

-Now this one is a little more dense. Denser than the Elven King? I hear you ask, and I say to you - possibly.

-Now, correct me if I am wrong, but he isn’t exactly too old, by elvish standards of course. He is relatively young by their norms, and has spent a lot of his time in Rivendell, serving Lord Elrond

-A very personal headcanon, take it or leave it, but he is even younger than Legolas.

-Anyhow, Lindir is quite dutiful in his work and doesn’t accept it comfortably when new energies are introduced to his environment. He can get quite skittish and tense when things aren’t going according to some mental plan he has set out in his mind, or even worse - if the events aren’t following a plan shared by him and the others. He is very keen on sticking to this familiarity of routine and stagnancy, in some way.

-So, note his surprise when you stick around and worm your way into his daily schedule.

-For a long while he swore to himself up and down how he will never get used to you, perhaps if you grew as old as he then he might, but your life was a flicker in comparison to his own

-He is even more surprised and confused when he sees himself looking for too long at you sharing hugs with your friends, bidding them goodbye and safe travels by kissing them hard on the forehead and trying to..wrestle them? What an odd thing to do to your friends..

-He is more baffled when you attempt to do the same to him. How could you?!

-He is an elf, an elf with standards!

-An elf with standards which you break through anyway since you’re so..infectious. Lindir had the funny thought, although it was a bit unsettling to him at the moment, that he was sick or fading/dying.

-In the days and months following, it took much effort to finally see the fruit of your labor. Lindir was finally, although still slowly, opening up to just spending more time with you instead of going by his strict routine that he played on repeat.

-He doesn’t sit three feet away from you anymore, but rather two and a half.. Not literally, of course, but the distance between you seems like it is miles with the way he sometimes acted in the beginning of these outings with you.

-The distance surely shrinks until he is actually next to you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he traces a small scar there which you claim you earned in your childhood. By elvish standards, humans are nowhere near perfection, but his thoughts have begun to change, and he no longer sees perfection in the standards he was raised with, but rather he sees it in you. Each little thing that separates you from another, and little by little he begins to sow you into his memory.

-He isn’t the best at remembering mortal souls, they all pass by quickly, but you linger and linger and he doesn’t want you to not linger. Linger with him by the fountain, will you? Let him ask you questions to distract himself from the fact your hand embraced his?

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.