Tumgik
#[various crashing sounds]
corsairspade · 18 days
Text
Halenthir scenario where they get married for tax benefits (in a platonic good friends sort of way) and fall in love long distance via sending each other letters with ideas on how to best leverage their marriage for tax evasion.
#Haleth has never paid taxes before moving to brethil#And is FUMING about the idea. So she sends a letter to Caranthir who mentioned something about *evading* taxes#In this setting I guess they part on good friendship terms#She visits him for a crash course in tax evading and they get drunk and someone mentions marriage giving you tax benefits#They wake up the next day and decide “you know what. Let’s actually get married for tax evasion purposes. It would be hilarious”#Up to you whether they get married in the elven way or just in the human way#Haleth fucks off back to brethil with a bunch of gifts from Caranthir like “bye bestie” and he’s like “👍. Bye bestie.”#And they strike up a proper correspondence#Because they’re married obviously#not because they’re having fun talking about loopholes in the tax code#That would be ridiculous. Obviously they are writing each other erotica.#All of Caranthir’s brothers find out because Caranthir ticks married on his tax return#Maglor voice: YOU GOT MARRIED? AND YOU DIDNT INVITE US?#Caranthir voice: It was pretty low-key. Now tell me. Did Fingolfin cry upon seeing how I leveraged my marriage for tax concessions.#Literally all his brothers: various sounds of sudden realisation this is a tax scheme#half of them don’t even believe haleth is a real person. She might have just been made up for tax reasons#Obviously this leads to a comedy of errors and classic finwean snooping#at one point Haleth hits one of Caranthir’s (half) cousins with a shovel for snooping#claims her name isn’t haleth (despite all her people calling her Haleth) and dares them to call her out on it#they can’t btw she is terrifying#silmarillion#the silmarillion#tolkien#caranthir#morifinwe#haleth of the haladin
84 notes · View notes
mythtiide · 8 months
Text
im so bored
1 note · View note
tiger-grace · 2 months
Text
I think Alfred is constantly dreaming about retirement but is shackled by the knowledge that he is the glue holding this barely functional family together
Alfred: sir I really don’t think
Bruce: why not. why should I not invest millions into funding a therapy corporation that Jason will ACTUALLY be able to trust
Alfred: quite honestly sir I think if it says “wayne” on it he’s 10 times less likely to go
Tim and Damian kicking the hell out of eachother rolling around on the floor: (unintelligible screaming, glass breaking, various cartoon crashing sound effects)
Alfred: (stares into batcamera like he’s in an office episode with several decades worth of exhaustion)
3K notes · View notes
writersdrug · 5 days
Note
Price getting reader a step stool cause she keeps asking Bartender!Ghost to reach stuff for her. Simon obviously brakes it when no ones looking. 👀🤭
LOL
"Is this your way of insulting me?" You ask, holding the colorful, children's stepstool in your hands. You're grimacing at it, a look that has Price chuckling as he folds up the bag from the store.
"I figured you could use it - now ya don't have to wait for Simon to grab anything for you." He says, patting you on the shoulder.
"I don't mind the wait..." You mumble under your breath. The stool feels as decorative as a clowns nose as you tuck it under your arm and head towards the stairs. "I'm keeping it upstairs, I don't need customers laughing at me when I pull this out. Might take it home and spray paint it."
"Suit yourself." Price calls as you bound up the stairs. He heads over to the bar, where Simon is currently polishing the glasses you convinced him to order for the Halloween drink.
"Got a problem with me helpin' 'er?" Simon says, thick fingers rubbing the glass with a rag. He doesn't mean to sound defensive... but he can't help the bite in his tone.
Price smirks, picking up on the jealousy laced into Simon's words. "Thought you might like it. Makes your life easier, and 'ers." He pops open the register and starts filtering through the bills, replacing the larger value ones with smaller ones.
"You don't think I'm capable of runnin' a bar and helping you waitress at the same time?"
"No, but I think you'd be better off if you didn't have to run so much. She's brought in so much business as it is, your workload's gotten heavier."
Simon huffs. "Ya just want to separate us, hm? Want 'er all to yourself." He jokes, grabbing another glass and buffing it.
Price shrugs. "And if I am?" He says, giving him a side glance.
Ghost slows his ministrations, turning his head to his captain. They both stare at each other for a moment, Simon with his slightly angry, slightly questioning glare, and Price with his unwavering eyes. Simon wants to tell him to back down, that you're his - but he can't say that, because you aren't his. He wants you to be. But he doesn't know how to make it happen without letting his walls down.
Price chuckles, turning back to the register to continue swapping bills. "Y'know, if you want to say somethin' you'd best say it." He comments, snapping the drawer shut. "Missed opportunities often come from miscommunication."
He leaves Simon at the bar, heading towards the stairs with his money folder. You jog down the steps and nearly crash into him - he quickly grabs your shoulders and spins you out of the way before you can collide with him. You throw a "sorry!" over your shoulder as you carry an armful of various fruits, leaving Price chuckling as he ascends the stairs to the office.
"The oranges up there aren't looking too great." You chirp, dumping the fruit onto his workspace. A few lemons and limes roll onto the floor, and you bend down to chase them. Simon watches you, a bit miffed at how unaware you were of the situation. What do you think of Price? Do you like him? Would you flirt with him as much as you do with Simon?
You return with the escaped fruit. "I can run to Sevvy's store and grab some for tonight, if you want? The ones upstairs are looking a bit pruney."
"Are you actually gonna use that thing?"
"Huh?" You look at him with confusion written on your face. "What thing?"
"The stool." He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. "'S a bit demeaning, don'tcha think?"
You paused, watching him move the fruit to the side and grab a plastic cutting board. "I mean... he bought it, and I wouldn't have to bug you so much. If I spray paint it black or something, it won't look that ridiculous."
He nods. "Hm."
"I used it to grab the fruit."
"That's interestin'." He mumbles, slicing through an orange. You were right, they have seen better days.
He turns to pop open the register and hands you some bills. "Go get a few oranges, no more than ten. Order should be comin' in tomorrow."
You smile and take the money, stuffing it in your back pocket. With a few hours remaining before the restaurant opens, you go through the kitchen, grab your jacket, and head out the back.
Simon's back to chopping fruit and dumping it into a small bin, bitterly thinking over what Price had said. It's a stool. Price got it to help you and himself. It was a thoughtful purchase. But it's not just that. However unserious this is to Price, he's trying to rile Simon up. He's treating you like the last slice of cake in the tin - Price would like to have it, but he knows Simon's groveling for it. He's forcing Simon to ask for what he wants, and the bartender doesn't like that one bit. Normally, it wouldn't be something that irks him so easily - but this is you we're talking about. Not just anything. You. He wants to grab Price by the collar and throw him into next week with how he's trying to wedge between you and Simon - but he doesn't like having a weakness. He'll keep his cool for now. He'll make a move... eventually.
For now, the only aggressive side he'll present is passive.
Tumblr media
Price leaves late that night, somewhere between two and three in the morning. He's beat, spending most of the night between helping you run food and drinks, and fifo-ing the pantry and overflow rooms. He's planning for a day off - of course, after he goes to the bank and comes back here to pay everyone. He's jealous of Simon, who's already upstairs for the night - he wishes he only had a short trip to the third floor before he could crash into his bed. Rather, he has to trek a hefty number of blocks home through the dark streets. He's more worried about going to bed at a decent hour than walking around at night with a bag full of money - people usually steer clear of him when they see his stature.
He locks the back door behind him, puffing out a foggy breath into the frigid air. It's only getting colder - he'll have to break out his cloves and scarf soon. The beanie won't be enough. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag of trash from the office. He mentally ticks off what he needs to do this week as he grabs the garbage bins, dragging them behind him and towards the street for the trucks to empty in the morning. He pushes them against the store front, taking the lid off and dropping the light trash bag inside.
The loud thunk makes him do a double take. Did he throw away something important? He lifts the bag once again, and a disappointed expression falls upon his face. The colorful kiddie stool he bought for you is there, pieces snapped apart and shoved deep into the bin. Simon didn't even try to hide it underneath the other bags. It's almost like he left it there for Price to catch.
He sighs, dropping the bag and placing the lid back. He trudged down the sidewalk towards his home - he's not too upset by it. He had a feeling Ghost was sinking his teeth into you, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where Price is afraid of what the man might do if someone else tries to take you away. But damn, if his ex-lieutenant's going to make a move, he'd better make a fucking move. For your sake, if not his own.
He pulls his phone from his pocked and shoots Simon a quick, blunt message.
You're paying me back for that.
1K notes · View notes
daosies · 1 month
Text
when you get injured
Tumblr media
sylus, xavier, rafayel ♡ gn!reader
warnings: alcohol (sylus), graphic depictions of violence, sylus is his own warning he's so freaky (but hes so fine), major story spoilers (all three), blood, mc is the protagonist but gender neutral, lowercase intended
notes: MISTY INVASION GOT ME
Tumblr media
sylus always looks forward to your calls.
he likes listening to you ramble about the little nothings of your day, the mindless white noise that echoes from your end whenever you get lost in thought.
more often than not, sylus isn't satisfied with just that. sometimes, he wishes he could witness your expressions for himself rather than through the chirps and retellings from mephisto, to narrow the distance between the two of you.
clink! he lifts a glass of whiskey up to his lips.
sylus eyes his phone before taking a sip, gaze beginning to drift around the vastness of his bedroom. warm lamps illuminate the corners and his attention redirects towards the various plushies that line the shelves.
ever-so slightly, the corners of his lips break into the subtlest of smiles.
his gaze returns to the phone.
later than usual, sylus thinks, staring at the pretentious (according to you) grandfather clock in his room. tick, tick. its tempo mimics his heartbeat, the steady rhythm falling into place.
sylus's days are redundant—they have been for quite a while—but what he always looks forward to is your calls, which always come at this time.
except for today, it seems. even though you're not obligated to call him, and you never told him that these calls would become a regular occurrence, sylus has grown expectant. terribly so.
he takes another sip of his drink, eyes darting back and forth from his phone to his wristwatch.
sylus would like to maintain his image as an independent, mysterious alpha; but you—oh, you—have a knack at dismembering him, at taking apart the chambers of his heart and weaving yourself into its tissue. you tattoo yourself into his skin, permeating into his existence without ever realizing.
you've always been a little cruel. sylus likes that about you.
tick, tick. he half-considers calling you first. when it comes to you, sylus has nothing to lose—from the crimson of his irises to the crimson of his blood, he's surrendered everything, offering all that he has in a ferocious, lovely organ that goes, endlessly: thump, thump, thump...
he thinks of your fantastic beauty. the tempo stutters.
tick, tick. ring! sylus reaches for his phone within an instant, not caring about luke and kieran's spiel about how a "real charmer" would wait for the phone to ring multiple times before picking up. but sylus doesn't have time to play games like that—he wants to hear your voice and he wants to hear it now.
"so, you finally decided to call, hm?" sylus asks, swirling his drink leisurely. he brings the glass up to his lips, unable to contain the way a smirk breaks out onto his face, the way you do so much as exist, the way you radiate and oh, the way you seek him out!
sylus thinks he's never felt so satisfied before, with all that he's ever achieved, you just might be the greatest of them all.
and he hasn't even achieved you yet. he thinks he never will; you've always been volatile, wildly beautiful and wildly free. again, sylus likes that about you.
you don't respond. sylus sets his glass down on the table, unbothered, smirk still fixed onto his lips. that is until he hears a loud crash from your end, the sound of labored breaths following soon after.
"[name]?" sylus calls, standing up immediately. his whiskey remains forgotten, free hand reaching for the leather coat draped across his chair, the fabric still stained red from earlier events.
sylus has no time to worry about how he presents himself, because before you can even utter another word, he's racing out of his pretentious (according to you) mansion and swinging a leg over his motorbike.
the steady tempo of his heart begins to race, beating the rhythm of the grandfather clock that, endlessly, echoes tick, tick... sylus attributes its consistency to the fact that the grandfather clock, in all its glory, has never had the pleasure of knowing you.
if it did, then its flow would be disrupted, its rhythm would stutter and leap, and sylus knows this fact all too well because it's happened to him. because it's happening to him.
thump, thump-thump... "[name]," sylus calls. he says your name just to say it, to feel its syllables on his tongue, to swallow the sound and let it reverberate throughout his chest, easing the spasm of his heart and the fracturing of his ribs.
"[name], talk to me," sylus says, the steadiness of his voice starkly contrasting the tremble of his irises. "[name], i'll be there. count to three?"
one. he revvs the engine.
two. his fingers tighten around the handlebars.
three. the tempo of his heart goes, achingly, thump-thump-thump, thump... for a second, the sound changes. for a second, the sound shifts and utters, in the softest of timbres: you.
black and red tendrils spew from the ground below you, wrapping your figure in a tender embrace whilst the sound of an engine rings throughout your ears.
smoke envelopes the room, your vision becoming blurry while the tendrils shrink away, their absence filled in by the warmth of calloused hands.
sylus lifts you up, pressing your head against his chest before whispering, "go to sleep, darling. it'll all be over soon."
when your eyes lull back, and your body falls limp, sylus goes mad. his hands never leave your figure, his evol forming limbs to strangle your opponent, watching the way they writhe and scream without ever tearing his gaze away.
"report," sylus demands, talking to no one.
"after finding out [name] was closely associated with you, boss, this person tried to get some information about you." still, someone responds.
sylus chuckles. "two corrections." he steps towards the suffocating person, crimson gaze trailing theirs and landing on you. when he notices this, sylus clicks his tongue, tightening the tendrils of his evol and forcing the perpetrator to look away from you.
tenderly, sylus caresses the side of your face, as if to brush away that person's distateful gaze.
"[name] and i are more than just close associates," sylus continues with his previous statement, holding you closer towards him. he finds solace in the way your chest rises up and down, reassuring him of your vitality, your incomparable radiance.
"and," he says, retracting his evol. the person falls to the floor with a harsh thud, and sylus merely tilts his head in the direction of the body, commanding the twins to clean the corpse up.
"that isn't a person. it's just some pest. kieran, don't make that mistake again."
luke snickers.
kieran straightens up, mop in hand. "yes, boss!"
only when your breathing steadies does sylus's heart return to its regular rhythm, matching the pace of the pretentious grandfather clock.
you've taken his bed (he's given it, really), and sylus doesn't bother pulling up a chair; sinking to his knees as he gazes at you fearfully, reverently. his hands come up to cover yours, elbows digging into the mattress. the warmth of your skin mixes with his own.
you've taken his bed, but sylus thinks that that's only one of the many things you've taken. you've taken his mind, his heart, him. you've taken all that he's got to give, all that he's ever fathomed of being his.
"you're always so cruel," sylus mutters to himself, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.
(but, i love that about you, he thinks.)
your head and side are wrapped with bandages, tended to by sylus himself. he doesn't trust anyone else—not even luke or kieran—when it comes to treating you; you're too delicate, too fragile for a place like this.
sylus's gaze remains fixed on the bridge of your nose, the cracks of your lips. sweat trickles down your forehead, your brows furrowed from discomfort and nightmares plaguing your sleep. he reaches a hand to brush the sweat away, grazing across your skin until your brows ease up, until your expression drifts into that of contentedness.
oh, you're beautiful. ethereally so.
(you don't belong here.)
still, sylus's hand traces over yours. he feels the callouses adorning your palm, marred by your work as a hunter. filling the gaps of your fingers with his own, sylus's hand locks into place.
(you call it abduction. he calls it love.)
Tumblr media
whenever it comes to you, xavier is on high alert.
he's always hyper aware of your location, your status and your surroundings. whenever you fight wanderers together—as partners often do—he's always thinking of you, of ways to redirect everything towards him, of ways to get you as far away as possible.
for the longest time, xavier thought that that'd be enough. he thought that, so long as you're okay, he doesn't care about what happens to him, about what happens to anything. he's always thought that, really. here and philos alike.
"xavier!" you yell, and before he can even react, your figure comes colliding with his, arms wrapping tightly around the back of his neck as the two of you tumble towards the ground.
he doesn't know what went wrong—was it his clumsiness? was it his arrogance? he had always thought that, so long as you were safe, nothing else mattered.
but xavier had never thought of a situation where he was the one at risk, where he was the one who needed saving. he had never thought that you'd be the one to sacrifice yourself, because, ever since he met you, xavier identified himself as a sword, as a weapon at your disposal.
he is your weapon. he is yours.
xavier's hand comes to the small of your back, feeling the blood seep in between the gaps of his fingers. his breath falls short of escaping, shrinking down his esophagus and bringing everything, from the race of his heart to the warmth of his face to a standstill.
primal instincts take over. xavier fights with tooth and nail, forgetting all that he's learned from his swordsmanship classes—but oh, never forgetting his time with you—while his grip around your waist tightens.
his movements are quick and wild as he slices through each wanderer with the efficiency of a machine, running on a code that prints out, endlessly, you, you, you.
after everything has been eliminated, xavier reaches for your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. after confirming that it's there, he teleports away to the nearest hospital, free palm pressing into the center of your wound.
xavier's scared. he's scared you won't make it. he's scared he's failed you. he's scared of a lot of things, really.
when you're wheeled away in a stretcher, tended to by a whole team of medical professionals, xavier's left yearning and waiting, clinging onto nothing but hope and a fragmented memory of you. he's always yearned—back in philos and here, now—but it's a little different this time.
you've always been out of reach, like you were a star and he, an observer. but now, you're so tangible, so delicate and so fleeting despite being right there.
xavier feels like you could disappear within an instant, and he wouldn't put it past you to leave this life behind, to restart anew somewhere else. with someone who was a little stronger than him, a little less selfish.
he's selfish. so what?
you evoke something primal within him, something that makes him forget his etiquette classes and his time at the academy, wasting away at textbooks and duels. you make xavier burn, wildly, fantastically, like a flame—like a star, even.
you make him feel unlike himself, because xavier's used to being calm and collected and oh-so drowsy, but when it comes to you, everything changes. the world reinvents itself anew and presents itself, fogged in a pink lens, as something lovelier than before.
xavier resigns himself to one of the many chairs of the waiting room. he buries his face into his gloved hands, not caring about the messiness of his appearance.
when he closes his eyes, all he can see is your limp figure. he opts to stare at the television screen instead, the reports of the news appearing mute to his deafened ears. xavier swallows thickly, mouth feeling terribly dry, wrapped around the shape of your name. it waits.
a couple hours pass, and a nurse appears to fetch him. xavier says nothing, tongue still stuck in time.
only when he enters your room, and listens to the repetitive beep of the heart monitor, does his mouth free itself from its prison, liberating itself to utter, in the faintest of whispers, "[name]..."
you don't stir awake. xavier's fine with that. he pulls a chair to your bedside, and he sits, and he stares. periwinkle eyes trail across your features, tracing them like a sculptor, desperate to reshape the bandages and gauzes that cover your abdomen.
xavier wishes he could crawl into your body and steal all the pain for himself.
there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him, the kind of instinct that is only ever sung about in epics and myths and tragic, star-crossed plays.
he reaches forward, bare thumb coming to graze over your cheekbone. you're quiet, too quiet, and xavier's paranoid. too paranoid.
there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it takes over xavier's eyes and it trains them to fixate on you.
your image slips into his sight, swallowed greedily by xavier's pupils, remembered fervently by his mind. while his hands cannot have you, xavier compensates with his eyes, desperate and mad and oh, so lovely.
there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.
xavier forfeits his beloved sleep in order to watch over your heart monitor, to watch over your heart.
even when all the lights shut off, and when the device's beeps blend into the white noise of the hospital room, his periwinkle gaze never leaves your figure, adjusting to the darkness and finding solace there.
(a star has landed on earth. it's guided by a great, irrevocable instinct. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.)
once more, xavier's mouth wraps around the shape of your name. it utters, in the softest of timbres, "[name], i love you."
although you aren't awake to respond, xavier is content with just this.
(a star has landed on earth. it stayed because it found you.)
"[name]," he whispers again, finding comfort in the familiar syllables, "i love you." maybe, saying it will make it realer than it already is. maybe, saying it will satiate his soul, providing him with enough sustenance to feast on for the next century or two.
maybe, xavier just calls your name to feel its syllables on his tongue. because he likes the sound of your name. because he wants to hear it, in whatever capacity, whenever he can.
maybe, it's just a great, irrevocable instinct.
whatever it is, xavier is content. he stares at you, and he feasts.
Tumblr media
it always goes like this: with rafayel chasing after you.
you have a habit of leaving him behind—rafayel thinks it's just in your nature.
you give him a taste of everything before leaving him with nothing, and even though rafayel hates, hates you for that, he can't help but want everything again.
(he had everything, once.)
"[name]!" the scream that erupts from rafayel's throat is raw, marred by a desperation and anguish that travels across lifetimes. rafayel can't lose you—not again, not like this.
"raf—" you're interrupted by a violent cough, blood spilling from your lips. "just go!"
and there you go again, in all your selfish glory, in all your inconsiderate and shameless heroism. do you like watching his expression drop into that of utter horror, when all he's ever wanted was you?
he can never get his way.
"ugh," he mutters to himself, voice cracking at the end. "i just hate you, you know!?" your gaze is preoccupied by the giant wanderer that looms over your figure, its attention belonging wholly to you.
rafayel has the audacity to be offended. hello? he manages to think, despite all the fear and anxiety. why's it not looking at me? i'm right here!
you aim your gun at the wanderer's head, and rafayel almost wants to laugh. to think you're fighting close-combat with guns—wow, what an accomplished bodyguard you are!
rafayel is half-considering finding a new bodyguard now, because it looks like his current one isn't too bright in the head.
rafayel hates the way you go around, saving everyone, saving everything. he hates the way you save and the way you forget, the way you go around picking up more strays whilst forgetting your first one.
rafayel hates you. he hates you. he hates you!
despite all the pain and soreness in his (self-proclaimed) delicate limbs, he rushes forward, daggers in hand while fire vomits from the ground. rafayel hates you, sure, but hate and love are lawfully wedded, tightly intertwined and fueled by one another.
rafayel hates you. he hates you. but oh, he loves you. he loves you in the way he's willing to let you keep that heart of his, the way orpheus loved eurydice, the way he did everything and anything, only to catch a glimpse before losing it all.
he charges in front of you, occupying the wanderer while you take a couple steps back. rafayel half-wishes you'd run. he half-wishes you'd turn and abandon him so he could find it in himself to abandon you. you did it once before, so why can't you do it again?
when bullets stop flying, rafayel wonders if you left. he wonders if it's really over. so, he looks back.
you're still there. this time, you don't disappear. your eyes meet his, and somehow, you find it in yourself to smile.
he wants to cry.
"rafayel, let's resonate!"
and oh, you're otherwordly. you're so, so gorgeous. it's in the flame that dances across your irises, the determination that settles into your features.
you're so beautiful it hurts, because rafayel hates the effect you have on him, the way you go around enchanting everyone, everything!
when crimson blood trickles down your face, staining your skin a violent red, rafayel thinks you're sublime. he feels insignificant in your radiance, in your marvelous existence, your marvelous world.
"fine, let's!"
your hand locks with his, and rafayel hates the way his heart skips a beat. he hates the way yours didn't. he hates the way he's the only one overthinking these things, the only one who remembers after all this time.
the world is engulfed in flames. and rafayel spares you a glance, your skin illuminated by the warmth, flickering in and out. the wanderer disintegrates into ash, leaving nothing but a measly protocore for all the suffering it put him through.
your eyes fall back. instinctively, rafayel reaches a hand out, catching you in his arms despite hating the way you contort his limbs, the way you make him trail after you like a madman.
he is anything but a madman—in fact, rafayel is perfectly normal.
still, he cradles you in his arms. blood trickles from the side of your face.
"you're not the only one bleeding," rafayel mutters bitterly, feeling lightheaded himself. "who do you even think you are?"
his thumb comes to brush your chapped lips, wiping stray droplets of blood from the dried skin.
you're ethereal. rafayel will never admit that outloud. not like this. but, he thinks that you're something akin to a grecian statue, reflecting all that is lovely and all that is mortal.
rafayel thinks that, when you were crafted—long before this current incarnation—you were crafted with the most delicate of touches, the loveliest of visions.
he looks at you, and he wants to create. he wants to waste away at his canvases, wild and fanatic and looking over his shoulder, wondering if you'll still be there when it's all over.
knowing your nature, you won't be.
still, rafayel can't help but dream. dreams can change the world, after all. dreams are what led him back to you.
his thumb reaches for his own lips. he kisses the skin and he weeps.
rafayel hates you.
he hates you so, so much.
he shrinks into your figure and he follows your heartbeat, the sound so, achingly familiar.
when you regain consciousness, it's in rafayel's studio. your figure is drowned in pearl-white blankets, your wounds wrapped tenderly with fresh bandages.
"good mooorning, sleepyhead," rafayel says, not facing you. his hands are occupied with a brush and palette, head craned upward to fully take in the canvas. "some bodyguard you are, huh!"
"rafayel!" you quickly exclaim, trying to stand up. rafayel is quick to turn around, setting his palette down to wag a disapproving finger at you.
"nuh uh! don't get out of bed! get some rest! and oh, don't even talk to me! not until you've apologized for doing all that dumb, fish-brained stuff!"
rafayel looks back. you're still there.
in this life, rafayel thinks he has everything.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
irndad · 6 months
Text
here I lay me down - s.r.
Tumblr media
a/n: ex!spencer gets shot, and you show up at the hospital to see if he's okay. spencer is still desperately in love with you. based on this post wc: 2.3k (she is LONG)
Spencer wakes to a cacophony of sounds, others breathing and various beeps and hums from a variety of medical machines. He hates the noise of the hospital, as he knows what always follows. It’s pain, and ever since he kicked dilaudid, he doesn’t get the relief that people are always pushing on him here. 
The last thing Spencer remembers, he was in front of Morgan, who was about to get shot- it was a piercing memory, one that even the anesthetic wearing off slowly couldn’t numb. He’d jumped in front of it, and the pieces of Morgan pacing around his room and the whole being in a hospital thing click into place. 
When he blinks his eyes open, he sees Hotch speaking to the doctor with his endearingly concerned eyebrow scrunch and it’s then that he notices a familiar scent in the air. 
It’s perfume- he knows because he’d bought it- a mixture of jasmine and lilies, and the memory of the night he gave it to her bursts into technicolor when he closes his eyes. It had been her birthday, and he’d gone with Penelope and Emily to pick out a gift for her. 
He remembers how she’d lit up, her warm doe eyes brightening with fondness that he’d earned, and the way his heart had flipped in his chest- the memory is in crisp detail. He remembers the way she’d kissed him, equal measure in thanks and in adoration, and it’s comforting to remember right now. He tries to think of her often, especially when waves of pain crash over him like an unruly ocean that threatens to drown him. There was someone who loved him at one point, he tries to remember. 
He wants to compliment the nurse wearing it, but even as limited as his social skills are in this state, he knows that telling the nurse you like her perfume because your ex wore it is probably inappropriate. 
A roar of desire presents itself in his chest- he has no desire to want her here, but Spencer can’t help but fantasize about her presence. Her nimble fingers running through his hair, her soft voice cooing at his injuries. It was always nice to come home to her after a rough day- her disposition warm and kind and good. It’s his fault he doesn’t have it- his fault that she doesn’t love him anymore. 
It’s as if he conjured her, when she walks in the door. 
He literally cannot believe that she is here, in his hospital room- he drinks in the sight of her like a man starved. She’s beautiful- he’d never forget this but it’s been so long since he’s seen her. The curve of her cheek, her cupid’s bow, the slope of her neck- the details he spent the best year of his life memorizing under careful touch. 
Her body language is protective, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other at her mouth, her delicate fingers holding a tissue. Had she been crying?
Before he can think of what to say to her, she speaks to him. 
“How are you feeling?”
He’d forgotten just how her voice sounded. Or rather, how it sounded when she was concerned for him. It’s addicting, hedonistic in the ways of wine and drugs and everything else you should have in moderation but had to give up. It’s just so comforting, her lovely doe eyes looking at him with warmth and concern. 
“Hey,” he replies, not answering her question. He might be imagining her. They might have given him drugs. There’s no way she came and see him of her own volition. 
She pauses for a moment, biting her lip in an incredibly endearing way (and god, he’d missed looking at her) before she makes the decision to walk over to the side of his bed. He tries to crane his neck to look at her and she scolds him, and this doesn’t make any sense. 
“You got shot,” she says, voice warm and concerned, and if he squinted he could hear love in her voice. 
“I’m okay,” he tries to reply. 
“You got shot,” she says, eyes flaring with emotion. She always hated that he minimized his pain. 
“You came,” he says, after a beat of silence. Her fingers are running through his hair and he tries to commit this to memory. It doesn’t mean she loves him. She’s the kind of person who stops on the street to give someone the last dollar in her wallet, of course she would visit her ex-boyfriend in the hospital after he got shot.
It doesn’t mean anything. 
“Of course I came, Spence,” she says, intentionality in her tone, “You got hurt.”
It’s selfish to lean into her touch, but she smells like home and he doesn’t know if he will ever be held like this again by her. And he doesn’t care to be held by anyone else. 
Hotch comes in, and if he’s surprised to see the two of them together, it doesn’t show on his face. He tells Spencer that the. Bullet had been clean through, and that he’d been lucky. He’d avoided internal bleeding and would need to stay at home for a week. 
When Hotch leaves to ‘give him some space to process’, the silence lingers.
“Thank you for coming.”
It’s kind of worse, actually. The reality where she’s still his girlfriend is superimposed on top of this one, and he can feel the ghost of the kisses she’d pepper his cheeks with. If she still loved him, then she’d hug him and tell him that she loves him, tell him how angry she is for jumping in front of a stray bullet. 
It’s my fault, he thinks to himself, eyes raking over her. She’d definitely been crying, he realizes. Her makeup had run and he think she might have slept here. How had he ever gotten someone like her to fall in love with him? 
It’s his fault she doesn’t love him anymore.
When the doctor tells him that he needs someone to stay with him for the next few days, and she volunteers, he agrees.
It’s a nice kind of pain, he thinks. Any piece of her is more than he wants of anything else.
_______________________________________
It turns out that she is a wonderful caregiver. 
Penelope had been incredibly supportive of this idea, somehow convinced that the proximity would bring them back together. This is a hope that Spencer does not engage in, but still- it’s nice to have her around. 
She knows her way around his apartment- knows how he organizes her things. Half her things used to be there too. 
Memory is a funny thing. The worst part by far of eidetic memory is the lack of forgetting, and up until now, this was best seen in the horrors of his work. Now, it’s all her.
Taking care of him when he got shot is not the same thing as loving him. 
When she makes them dinner (which is so kind of her- he offered to buy takeout and she’d insisted on recreating his mother’s soup recipe. She’d kept a copy of it in her phone. Spencer had almost died of flattery), she sits next to him on his couch
It’s funny how the best memories of his life are so colored now- their trip to Europe, their first kiss, the first time he’d cooked her dinner and she’d watched Doctor Who with him. Ghosts of memory linger through the place, and it hurts to see her sit next to him on the couch with a foot between them. 
“Thank you for being here,” he says after a beat of silence. She looks beautiful, and he always thinks this. She’s wearing his t-shirt which is just an awfully tempting view. 
It’s his fault he can’t have what he wants. 
“I told you I still wanted us to be friends,” she says, looking down at her bowl, “You’re my friend. I’m happy to do this.”
He can tell she means it as an olive branch but it cuts like a knife. Because he never wanted to be her friend. She was the first thing he even wanted enough to ask for it. He still remembers when he’d asked her out the first time, the stuttering and the way she’d looked, how impossible her liking him back had felt. 
And then he’d managed to make her fall in love with him. It didn’t even take much- he just had to be himself, the way she says it, and he’d give anything to have that back. 
“You’re a good friend,” he replies, instead of everything he’s thinking. 
“Hotch thinks so,” she muses, not looking at him, “He was surprised I’d come here after you broke up with me.”
It’s a slight lash out, and it’s fair. It’s not fair that she’s here, wearing his fucking t-shirt, her collarbones exposed under the fabric. He know what her skin feels like under his lips, and now she make veiled comment on his couch. 
“Why did you?”
He can’t figure it out. They’d broken up two months ago. He’d done it to protect her- after the anthrax case he’d been fucking fixated on her getting hurt. Because this is the stuff he can’t protect her from. Can’t help if biomedical hazards end up on his clothes,  and if he comes home shot. 
He got shot. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t get forever with the woman he loves, because he can’t keep her safe. Even if he quit just then- enough people have made an enemy of him. She’d never be safe.
So he made a choice to cut his ties and let her go, and yes, every fucking night since he’s had at least one nightmare about what she looks like crying and asking him to stay. He never, ever wanted to see her like that, but he also never ever wanted her to be a widow. 
She’d find someone else. She’s so easy to love- he doesn’t like to think about someone else loving her, but he’s sure she won’t be alone. 
His voice catches in his throat.
“It is nice of you,” Spencer chokes out, “I never wanted you to have to do that.”
“Let’s not talk about this now,” she says, getting up to get him another serving, and he grabs her wrist.
“Ba- Hey, please. Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” she says at him, but she doesn’t pull her wrist back. 
“I just-“ he stammers, but it’s heavy and something he can’t give up, the combination of her gaze under his and her soft skin in his grasp, “I can’t have you here and hate me. I just can’t take you hating me. I know- I know what I did. I know it’s not fair to ask and I know that we’re not together and I know it’s my fault but god, you can’t hate me. I can’t take it.”
“You think I hate you?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“You think I came to the hospital in the middle of the night, slept in a waiting room, cooked you soup and slept on your couch because I hate you?”
He doesn’t know what to say. How could she still love him? 
“It’s you,” he replies. “You’d always do that for me.”
She’s closer now, moving into his space more and more and he can smell his own body soap on her because she showered here, and he’s overcome with a desire to hold her. 
“Why do you think that is?”
She’s almost in his lap now, and there’s a greed to this now, the way he pulls her a little bit closer. She tips her head back in a bitter, tinny laugh that he doesn’t like the sound of. 
“I mean, Spencer- I love you so much that I don’t even care if you love me back.”
“You still love me?”
“I’m working on it,” she says, a bitter smile on her face, “You’re hard to get over.”
“Don’t get over me.”
It’s not the smoothest thing he could’ve sid, and he kind of regrets the implication on her face, sees her gorgeous features crumple. 
“That’s mean, Spence.” 
“No! No. Don’t. Don’t-don’t do that. Don’t move on with your life and find someone else because this is the lightest I’ve felt in fucking weeks.”
Her eyes widen into saucers, and her grip tightens on his hands, and Spencer feels like he could fly. 
“I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have made you go and I should’ve let you be the person who picks me up at the hospital and I know, I know how lucky I am that you’re still here, that you cared enough. Please, please don’t get over me. I know it’s not far to ask.”
She blinks a few times at him before opening her arms for a hug, of which he flies into at breakneck speed. His ribs hurt but he’d forgotten what it was like to hold her. And yes, maybe wanting this makes himself selfish, but he wants this. Maybe this can the one thing he lets himself have. 
“I do love you. ” he speaks into her collarbone, and she shushes him. 
“No, no,” he says, looking up at her, her gorgeous doe eyes shaky with uncertainty he knows is his fault, “If you’ll still have me, I’d like to-I’d like to try again. And I know that you probably can’t trust me and I have so much to make up for and-“
“Spencer,” she says warmly, twining their fingers, “I’d like to kiss you now. Okay?”
He nods a bit fervently, shaking as he does, but when she kisses him-
It’s just as he remembers. She leans into him, her delicate fingers cupping his jaw and he wraps his spindles arms around the curve of her waist, pinning her to him like she might float away if untethered. 
When Spencer gets back to the office, he it’s not just his wounds that have healed. 
2K notes · View notes
annwrites · 3 months
Text
sons & daughters. part two.
— pairing: cregan stark x fem!reader
— type: part of a series
— summary: you spend a day in winterfell's library, until someone comes looking for you.
— tw: eating
— word count: 2,839
Tumblr media
When you wake the next morn, it's to feeling well-rested. You feel so comfortable, in fact, that you have half-a-mind to stay in bed all day, beneath furs and blankets, soft feather pillows resting beneath your head, a warm fire burning—at some point in the night, servants must have snuck in to rebuild it, for elsewise it would be mere embers by now—but know you cannot. Even if Jace is the important one in all this.
You...are merely here to sight-see and stay out of the way.
Tumblr media
After Alia—the servant from the night previous—has helped you ready for the day, she then brings you bacon, soft-boiled eggs, honeyed bread with jam, sharp white cheese, and coffee to break your fast.
As you eat, you enjoy the silence. No loud, crashing waves breaking against the base of the castle like at Dragonstone, and no sounds of a sleepless city like that of King's Landing—children screaming, horses whinnying, and criers shouting in the streets.
Winterfell—no, the North, it seems—is...peace. Tranquility. Strength.
Being here... You feel as if you've finally found something you hadn't even known you'd been looking for all your life: a sense of home.
You take another bite of your boiled egg, shaking your head, knowing you cannot grow used to it. It will not last. Before long, you will be perched upon Vermax once again, heading back to Dragonstone, never to return to these lands. As if you want to return there, either.
You think of your mother giving you her blessing for...that, before you and Jace had climbed upon his dragon, ready to depart.
For once, you think her foolish.
No man—certainly not a hardened one of the North—would ever take you to wife for love. No, it's your name that prospects lust after. Even if it, too, is half a lie. They do not want you; just what you can give them.
You wonder where you truly belong then, if anywhere.
Sometimes, you feel so alone in the world.
But here, you just...feel. Quiet. Restful.
And a world away, but finally where you belong.
Tumblr media
You bundle yourself in tights beneath your dress once again, with the thickest pair of socks you own donning your feet, boots slipped over them, and gloves on your dainty hands. You then slip on your cloak, desperately wishing it was fur-lined like everyone else's here.
Eventually, you may need to make a small trip into the nearest market town to stock up on winter wear.
Once you deem yourself as ready as you are able to be for the brisk day, you emerge from the castle, clasping your hidden hands nervously once again as you wander around unfamiliar grounds.
You watch as a servant goes by with a small stack of books in her arms and then glance to the tower behind her, most assured that it must be Winterfell's library.
The perfect place for you to spend your day, then, entirely out of the way of your brother's and Lord Stark's political dealings.
Tumblr media
Thankfully, there are two small hearths in the library, along with a selection of fine blankets to keep you warm, and a nearby tea tray, piled high with various treats, as well as pitchers of juice, and a silver tea pot to keep your hunger at-bay.
Before long, you are forced to remove a few layers to cool yourself—opting to also seat yourself upon a cushioned window-seat, after kicking off your boots and placing them near you on the floor, so you might feel even a slight, cooling draft as you watch people mill about in the yard while you peruse a selection of novels and books of beautiful artwork, depicting northern kings of old.
You rest your head back against the wooden wall behind you and wonder what Winterfell might look like if Torrhen had not bent the knee to your great, great, great, great grandsire.
So long ago now, and yet it feels so very recent.
Here you and your brother are, after all, asking for aid from the very people your own forebear had subjugated.
You wonder what Lord Stark must think of it. To only be acknowledged—called upon—when it is his strength, his men, his swords and means that another suddenly desires. You're sure he is, otherwise, content to be left alone, away from Southron dealings and schemes.
You sigh, envying him in some ways, but not others.
Envying him his home, his customs, his proud heritage—this place—but not the burden thrust upon him at so young an age.
You are glad for Jacaerys. For your brothers in general. For you cannot imagine the heavy weight of a crown being placed upon your head.
You feel your mother has, thus far, bore it well—stayed her hand, as opposed to plunging the kingdom into war and dragonfire at first opportunity—but you know a dark future looms close if amicable resolve is not soon reached.
Daemon thirsts for bloodshed, using Aegon's usurpation as excuse to enact such violent measures, when you know it has little to do with what the Greens 'stole' from your mother, and instead to do more with his own pride. They took an opportunity from him: an opportunity to mayhaps be Hand of the Queen, or, at the very least, a valued member of her Small Council.
Perhaps Master of War.
You are glad your grandsire disinherited him as heir. That he'd had the foresight to see what sort of ruler he might've been.
You tuck your blanket more tightly around yourself, gladder still to be far from him. Far from all of it.
Your eyes flutter closed—for just a moment you tell yourself—as you allow yourself to pretend that this place could be your home and you not a princess at all, but instead...whomever you wish to be. And that all is well and right in the world, as it had once been not but a few days ago.
Tumblr media
Heavy boots thump against wooden stairs, a fur cloak shifts, and eyes the color of a darkening winter sky scan the cramped confines of the Winterfell library, searching.
A broad form weaves through towering bookcases, the smell of parchment, leather, and charcoal greeting his senses.
And, as he rounds a corner, he finally discovers the object of his hunt.
He comes nearer, his prowling steps now quiet to avoid waking you as he peers down at you from beneath a now-unfurrowing brow, his form relaxing as he sees that you are perfectly safe.
He'd had half-a-mind to send out a search party if he and your brother had been unable to find you.
But here you sit, leaned back against the wall, head resting against the window to your side, eyes closed, and your pink lips slightly parted as you take in slow, steady breaths while you dream.
And for the first time in a long, long while, he thinks himself foolish. Because he wishes to know what about, exactly. A handsome lord of the south mayhaps, or, perhaps, a gallant knight whose only fighting experience is that of celebratory tourneys.
He reaches down, gently tucking a lock of hair behind your dainty ear, then running his callused fingertips along your soft, flushed cheek.
He cannot remember the last time he's been so taken with a woman. Not since his late Lady Wife, he is sure.
He still misses her dearly some days. On others, the pain of her loss is easier to bear. He supposes that marrying for love only served to contribute to that pain. And while his son is his heart, he sees her in him, and it oftentimes only serves to make carrying the burden of her sudden passing that much more difficult.
She is in Rickon's smile, his laugh, even his eyes.
He deigns that he shall visit her in the crypts tomorrow morn.
Finally, he seats himself beside you, near your feet, and he leans back against the window behind him, rolling his head to the side to continue gazing upon you.
He wonders why it is here that you chose to sequester yourself away for the day.
He'd asked after you while with Jace, but your twin had stated that you preferred to spend your time alone; that you did not do well with strangers. That he was sure you were fine.
He now worries that you find him too intimidating.
He means to be, certainly. He rules his lands with an iron fist. Would not rule them at all unless he did, considering his uncle's reluctance to relinquish power once he finally came-of-age, and his hand thus being forced when he finally took what was rightfully his from Bennard's clutches.
But he is also fair.
And he can be gentle. When the time calls for it. Even if now is not it. But for you...mayhaps he can make an exception.
Given that he finds you deserving of his more forgiving side, that is. Jace, he thus far, enjoys the company of, at least.
You, he is still trying to gather a reading of. You seem polite enough, shy clearly, and also seem to posses humility. But he knows how sweet a serpent's venom can taste when being fed by a comely young face with a honeyed tongue.
Though, he does not in his heart of hearts truly think you that sort of girl—rather, woman.
He only wishes to spend more time at your side to find out for himself exactly who you are.
He leans toward you, his large hand enveloping the slender crown of your shoulder as he begins to gently shake you awake. "Princess."
Your brows furrow and you stir for only a moment before resuming your peaceful slumber.
He tries again. "Y/N, it is time to wake."
You slowly blink your eyes open, looking around confusedly under hooded lids before your eyes meet his own. "Where—"
"You fell asleep, Princess. It is nearly time for supper."
You suddenly sit up straighter then, heart jumping. You...you'd been here all day? Had slept it away? Gods be good. Now he must think you incredibly lazy.
You can't do anything right, can you?
You hide yourself away to prevent yourself from interrupting he and Jace, and still you managed to do it in error.
"I...forgive me, My Lord. I..." You trail off, looking for an excuse.
"Why did you not join us, Y/N?"
Your eyes meet his then. "I—what?"
His lip twitches at your unsurety of yourself. A far cry from the woman his advisors had been speaking to him of just this morn before breaking his fast, encouraging him into a betrothal with her. One of House Blackwood, with a bawdy tongue and a fierce disposition.
"Jacaerys and I. We had a full day together, discussing future plans if war comes to pass, while exploring Winterfell's grounds. I had looked for you, but you were not to be found. Did you hide yourself away from me here, then?"
Your eyes grow wide. Oh no. Now he thinks you mislike him.
You shake your head. "No. I just...I did not wish to be an impediment, My Lord—Cregan. So I stayed here."
He frowns. You think yourself a burden, clearly. He wishes desperately to see what you are like amongst those you are more comfortable with. Wishes to hear your laugh, to see your smile.
"You do not intend to stay hidden all the while you are here, do you, Y/N?"
You nervously clasp your hands in your lap. "No. I'm sure I will explore on my own eventually. You needn't worry about me."
He studies you for a moment and you merely blink at him in return, waiting for him to speak next.
"Are you hungry, then?" He asks with a raised brow.
You nod, smiling softly.
He stands, towering over you. "Then let us feast."
You slip the blanket from your lap, flushing fiercely when you notice that your gown has ridden all the way up to your thighs beneath it.
You quickly shove it back down, refusing to meet his eyes as you then pull on your boots and slip on your cloak before standing.
You go to leave, until he takes your hand in his, wrapping it round his arm as he leads you both out, his palm resting atop your own all the while.
Tumblr media
When you sit to dine, Cregan motions for you to seat yourself next to him, to which you silently oblige.
You truly appreciate him trying to be genial toward you, but you know it is all out of lordly hospitality. That it is due to your title, not you.
Never you.
You remain quiet as always as he and Jace discuss their explorations of the day, listening with interest, so as to give yourself ideas of places to see by yourself tomorrow.
Even if Jace's continual looks are beginning to grate on your nerves. Had something set him off today?
You sip your soup, then take a small bite of bread, only then noticing that Jace is glaring at you, yet again, over his meat pie.
“What?” You ask, annoyed.
Cregan glances to you, surprised by your fiery tone.
“You couldn’t have left a note on your bed, or upon mine—”
You roll your eyes, sighing. Gods forbid you explore the library without a royal escort. “I was in the library, not taking a trip to the Wall. I hadn’t even thought a note necessary." A smug smile then crawls onto your face. "How are you to one day be king if you cannot even look after me?”
He kicks you under the table then. 
You swing your leg back, doing the same and he shouts. “Ouch, that hurt!”
You shrug. “I didn’t feel a thing.”
He plants his palms flat atop the trestle table. “Do it again and I’ll feed you to Vermax.”
You raise a brow, ready to swing your leg back yet again, until Cregan begins to laugh lightly to himself. 
You both turn your heads in his direction, and he waves his hand just once. “Forgive me, My Prince.” He nods toward you. “Princess. I just can’t help but think how much you remind me of my late younger brother, Jace.”
You smile softly and Jace’s shoulders relax then. At least he had not been offended by your sudden displays of anger...
“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say quietly. And you truly mean it. You cannot imagine losing any of your brothers. Not a one.
If you did, especially to war...for the first time in all your life, you wish for a dragon of your very own. Then again, if you had one, whomever took them from you would not be safe. No one would, as such terrible grief overtook you.
Cregan looks at you then, his gaze softening as his thigh presses up against your own. “Thank you, Princess. It was a long time ago, now. I’d like to think, if he had been given a chance to grow into a man, he would be much like your older brother," he says, nodding toward Jace.
Jacaerys smiles at that. “Will you tell us about him, then?”
Cregan nods and throws himself into tales of brotherly love and camaraderie, which you listen to with a warm smile.
Tumblr media
Once you have supped, you and Jace head off to bed, even if you do not feel tired—you blame your midday nap (perhaps a bit longer than a nap) for your lack of exhaustion. At least tonight you did not nearly fall over face-first into a bowl of desert.
You bid your brother goodnight after he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
You refrain from stomping on one of his feet in return after his comment at dinner about making you dinner for his dragon, only because you know Lord Cregan is watching.
When you turn round, you give him a small smile and a slight bow of your head. "Goodnight, Lord—"
"Will you join me in the crypts on the morrow, after breaking our fast?"
You blink in surprise. "I—yes, I can. Are...are you certain?" You imagine it a private and sacred place where outsiders are not entirely welcome.
He nods. "I am."
"I will see you, then, in the morn," you say quietly.
He steps closer to you, forcing you to lean your head back to meet his eyes.
He seems to consider you for a moment, as if debating something internally, before he brushes a soft kiss over your forehead. "I shall see you then."
You watch as he steps into his room, softly shutting the door behind him, while your heart pounds in your chest, and blood rushes to your cheeks, warming them.
That had been most...unexpected.
You enter your own room then, pressing your back against the door, knowing sleep will not find you anytime soon this evening.
1K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 10 months
Note
NURSE GETO? NURSE GETO? GETO NURSE? NURSE GETO? BARKEKKAKAJEVRLKA BARKBARKBARK pls. n u r s e g e t o
𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦
ft. Fem!Nurse!Geto x Reader x Doctor!Gojo
contains: fem reader, bisexual reader, pwp, sexual tension, threesome, oral (all three of them), unprotected sex, pullout method, cum eating, face sitting, rough sex, making out, soooo much dirty talk, teasing, masturbation, age gap (reader is 20, satosugu are 30ish), finger sucking, squirting, tag teaming
wc: 14.9k… this took 3 days to write
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
You had recently moved states, meaning you had to break up with your doctor of however many years. It was a sad goodbye, and now you were left with the burden of finding a new doctor. You had recently turned twenty, just having moved out of your parent's house a couple months ago, and you had no idea where to start in looking for a new doctor.
You decided you were going to use your newfound freedom to stay out late and sleep with whoever you wanted! Typical first-time adult free from their parent's reins behavior; but you werent stupid, you knew if you were going to do this, you would need to get on some form of contraceptives.
This led you to look up some highly-rated doctors in your area that was currently talking new patients. You scrolled past dozens upon dozens of old wrinkled faces, before you landed on the perfect candidate; Gojo Satoru. His hair was frosted white, his face looked like it had been chiseled by the gods, and his eyes? You felt like they had come to life on the screen in front of you and were looking through your soul.
Yeah, you had chosen your primary care physician based on his looks, so what? You dug into his portfolio and watched the countless interviews he had done on various websites of course! Definitely not because his outrageous looks and deep voice made your stomach turn over, and absolutely to learn more about your soon-to-be doctor.
After one unnecessarily long phone call to the hospital and speaking to some woman who sounded too senile to still be working; you had the appointment set.
One week later, on the day awaited day, you sat in the waiting room and twirled your thumbs in your lap, you couldn't help but notice that every other patient around you was four times your age. You had dressed yourself up in some sexy, but formal enough-looking clothes, you didn't want to make it too obvious that you had dressed up for this—but your styled hair and extra makeup you added might have given that away.
Your eyes never left the clock as you watched the arms tick by, signaling the time as it got closer and closer to your appointment. You constantly had to remind yourself to take deep breaths as you wiped your sweaty palms off on your knees. You didn't feel this nervous when you were ogling him on the internet, but now that you were here, all the nerves came crashing down. Each time the door to the appointment rooms creaked open, and some different nurse walked into the waiting area, you held your breath before they ultimately called a name that wasn't yours.
After about fifteen minutes past your scheduled time, your nerves had gone down significantly from all of the waiting. You were just about to pull out your phone for the first time that day and play some mobile game to pass the time when the awaited door opened once more, and a tall nurse with long black hair and dark eyes stepped into the room.
She was wearing a tightly fitted mid-thigh length white dress, the sleeves reached to her wrists, but she had rolled them up to her elbows. Her long black hair was pulled half up in a bun, and her side bangs were pulled out from the bun to fall around her face. The rest of her dark strands ran down her back, some cascaded off of her shoulders and rested deliciously against her chest. The low neck of the dress allowed you to get an eyeful of her cleavage that seemed to glow under the yellow lights; you gazed at her collarbones and her slender neck as her dark hair contrasted beautifully against her pale skin.
You could stare at her forever, your gaze dropped down to legs, her thighs were lined in dark tights that made her skin look like silk, your eyes continued in their path down her body until you reached her feet, which stood in delicate-looking black heels—not too too tall— and they made her ankles look so delicious. Her gaze was down on the clipboard she held it against her arm, reading the patient's name mentally before she looked up from under her lashes and scanned around the room and called out your name.
You swore you were the universe's favorite child. First, you had found the hottest man you've ever seen in your life to be your doctor, and his nurse just happened to be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. She called your name again, snapping you out of your stupor and making you slap yourself mentally as you rose to your feet, throwing your bag over your shoulder as you started towards her.
Up close you could see her slanted eyes more clearly, they looked so seductive as she gave you a quick one-over, before she held the door open for you, "Hi sweetheart, we're gonna go to the left." She instructed, to which you just nodded and blushed. She let the door fall shut behind the both of you when you entered, walking past countless diagnosis rooms as she led you to get your measurements. "I haven't seen you here before, is this your first time seeing Dr. Satoru?" She asked, holding her hand out to you to take your bag as she set up the scale for you.
"Oh, y-yeah," You stuttered, trying and failing to meet her sultry eyes as you took off your shoes and placed them to the side of the scale, "I moved here pretty recently so I had to get a new physician." Explained. "I see~" She cooed, mumbling for you to stand straight against the wall so she could get the proper measurements of you before she continued, "Well I'm positive you will love the doctor, He is a very thorough and knowledgeable man." You tensed when you felt her hands graze the top of your head as she brought the leveler down against you to get your height.
"Go ahead and step up here for me." She said, to which you complied, stepping on the scale. "Have you been working for him long?" You asked, making her giggle; the sound was music to your ears. "Ah, funny you ask." She said, jotting down the numbers on the screen in front of her before you stepped down and started pulling your shoes back on. "We have actually been friends since high school." She smiled, tilting her head at you and making her hair drape across her pale face.
You didn't know who you were more jealous of—Dr. Gojo, for being around this woman for god knows how many years of his life, or This woman in front of you, for being around Gojo for all the years of her life. You knew Gojo was about 10 years your senior, so you guessed it must've been the same for her. Not like you would've been able to tell, her skin was almost completely void of any wrinkles or blemishes, she looked like she could be your age if not for her more mature demeanor.
"Wow! That's so cool that you ended up working together! It must be fun." You exclaimed, taking your bag from her as you started for the more private room she would take you to meet the doctor. "It can be." She said, shaking her head with a smile, "He is.. a character for sure." Her subtle insult of him made you laugh. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable wherever, i'm just going to ask you a couple questions and perform some basic tests on you before I go get him." She explained, "Oh, you can call me Geto by the way, seeing your fresh new face caught me off guard earlier, forgive me." She said, smiling sweetly at you.
That made you gulp, hard. You had caught her off guard? Your head was spinning. She had no idea what she just did to your ego. Geto.. you repeated her name in your head a couple times, loving the way it rolled off your mental tongue. She giggled, "That's my name~" Your jaw dropped. You swore you had said it in your head, but obviously not as she glanced at you briefly with a smile before going back to pull up your records. You pulled your lip between your teeth in embarrassment before you spoke. "S-sorry, it's- you have a pretty name." You stuttered.
She gazed up from her screen and looked over your form as you looked around the room, she couldn't help but think of how cute you looked when you were embarrassed. "Well thank you," she said, finally succeeding in pulling up your records. "You know, it's so nice to have a patient that isn't geriatric, not that I don't love all the old geezers out there." She giggled, "It's just refreshing, I'm glad you chose Satoru." She said honestly, making you blush as you connected your eyes with hers. "Glad I could help," you responded, the both of you keeping your eyes on the other while you spoke.
After a couple beats of silence, she broke eye contact and manipulated the large computer so it was in front of her, "Alright~ It seems you're pretty healthy by looking at your records, just gonna ask you to confirm your date of birth for me before we continue." She asked, looking at you once more and smiling in approval when you answered quickly, "Good girl." Her smooth voice echoed her words in your head, making you clench your thighs together on the too-hard chair you sat on.
After she asked you a couple more standard questions she started gathering the blood pressure and heartrate tools to finish up your standard check-in details. She stood up from her chair and waltzed over to where you sat, her hips swaying as she walked, stopping right in front of you. "Is it alright if I roll up your sleeve?" She asked, waiting for your consent before she wrapped the hard plastic around your arm. "Thank you, sweetheart, relax your legs for me as well, and stick out your finger, please." She asked as she clamped the heartrate monitor on your finger.
She took a step back and put her hand on her hips, watching the numbers appear on the little screens of the tools. A smile appeared on her face before she removed the clamp from your finger, "Do I make you nervous?" She asked, catching you off guard and making your eyes shoot up to meet hers. "Uh," you laughed nervously, "I'm only kidding~" She said, removing the plastic from your arm, the back of her hand grazing against your breast as she did so, leaving your skin feeling like it was buzzing where she touched you. "Your heart rate is just a little high~" Geto explained.
"Oh, I guess I am a little nervous." You admitted shyly, rubbing your sweaty hands against your knees once more. "Aww~ Don't be nervous sweet thing, me and the doctor have your best interests at heart trust me~" She cooed, succeeding in easing your nerves slightly. "So, last question for the doctor, what brings you in today? Standart check-up stuff, or something else?" She asked, tipping her head at you as she waited for you to respond.
At this point, you were semi-regretting your choice to pick a hot doctor with a coincidental hot nurse at the embarrassment you felt from just thinking about telling them you wanted to go on birth control. Maybe you should've chosen one of those old-looking doctors. What if you had hemorrhoids one day? Or had a nasty rash you needed to get looked at? You didn't want these beautiful people to know about that!
You took a deep breath before you spoke, "I uh, was wanting to go on birth control." You said. "Ohh~ smart girl." She perked up, "Did you want to get STI or STD tested while you were here? It's super quick." She offered. "Oh! nono, I uh, I'm not currently.. sexually active." You responded. You were too busy looking at the floor mortified to notice how her eyes lit up upon the revelation that you currently had no sexual partner.
"Oh I see, we can skip the test then~" She said, jotting down the final notes into your chart before she stood, smoothing her dress down her thighs as she rose to her feet. "Alright sweetheart, Ill be right back with the doctor." She winked, making your mouth run dry as you nodded shortly at her. You couldnt stop your eyes from dropping to her ass, watching her hips move as she walked out of the room and gently shut the door behind her.
The second you were alone, you dropped your head into your hands and sighed, your face turning an impossibly darker shade of crimson. You should not be as aroused as you were but she was definitely flirting, right? You had a horrible radar for this kind of thing. Her flirty personality might be just that, her personality, but it seemed more than that. You heaved out a louder sigh, repeating your interactions with her over and over in your head a thousand times as you waited for the doctor.
"Satoruuu, patient time." Geto knocked on his office, making the white-haired man groan and drop his legs onto the floor from where they were splayed out on his desk. "I love my job, but I don't know how many more old geezers with cholesterol problems I can take." He sighed, throwing on his white coat to give him an air of professionalism before he started for the door. The man was halted in his tracks when Geto gave him a squinted look, "Just a second, Satoru." She said, pushing his chest back into his office and shutting the door behind him.
"Oh, Suguru look, I'm flattered~ Truly~" Gojo started, placing the back of his hand over his forehead dramatically. "Ew, no, it's about the patient," Geto said, rolling her eyes at her obnoxious best friend's antics. He dropped his hand to his hips, tilting his head at her as he waited for her to speak, "I think you're really going to like this one, shes new," Geto said, raising her eyebrows. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you, but I'm not into women who are 50-plus years older than me." He sighed, his face tuning into a scowel as he dismissed Geto.
"You're impossible," She sighed, rubbing her temples. Gojo never listened to a thing anyone says, trying to talk to him was like communicating with a brick wall. "She's young, Gojo; twenty; and she wants your help to get her on birth control." She said, watching the color come back to Gojo's face as she spoke. "If you're lying Ill tell the superiors you forged a drug test." He said, all too seriously, making Suguru laugh. "She's a cute one too, just come see for yourself." She giggled, fixing her hair in the mirror on Gojo's door before she opened it and walked into the hallway, Satoru right on her tail, bouncing with excitement.
You lifted your head from your knees and wiped the stray hairs from your face when you heard a knock on your door. Your heart immediately started pounding out of your chest. Good thing you were at a hospital right now because you seriously thought you were going to have a heart attack at any second.
When the door cracked open, the first thing you saw was his white hair peeking through the door, his cruelian eyes next, as they made searing contact with yours. He was so much taller than you imagined, he must've been well over 6 ft tall as he had to duck his head to enter the room. His shirt looked all too small for his chest, the buttons that adorned it were threatening to burst if he moved too suddenly. You could see his bulging muscles through his slacks and his white doctor's jacket alike, making you swallow the saliva that pooled in your mouth, threatening to spill over your lips.
When he was full inside, Geto's familiar face was revealed to you as she slipped in behind him. You couldn't tell if her presence set you more on edge, or comforted you with how fast your heart was racing. "Well hello there." The handsome man said your name and the word has never sounded better when it rolled off his tongue, "Nurse Geto told me this is your first time seeing me," He smiled fondly at you, showing off his impossibly white teeth, "Although I could come to that conclusion myself, I would remember someone like you." He said, making your mouth run dry.
"My name is Dr. Gojo Satoru, its a pleasure to meet you." He said, squinting his eyes as he smiled at you and stuck his large hand out for you to shake. His hand almost entirely covered yours when he shook it, the heat radiating from his hand alone seemed to warm your entire body from the couple of seconds of contact.
"I-its nice to meet you too." You said through a shaky voice, trying your best to keep eye contact with his intimidating gaze. "Nurse Geto will just be here to take notes, is that alright?" He asked, sitting on the chair Geto sat at before, placed in front of the big computer. You shook your head, signaling your approval before you gazed away from him and made eye contact with her comforting face.
"Alright let's get down to business ~" He clapped his hands together before dragging two big fingers over the mousepad and looking briefly over your chart. "You're here to talk about birth control right?" He checked, raising his eyebrow at you as he looked over your body quickly before you looked back at him. "Yes, I've never used any form of contraceptives before, so.. I'm not really sure what all the methods are." This confession made Gojo's eyebrows shoot up.
"Ohhh ballsy~" He said before continuing, "You really should at least use a condom during sex, they protect against many forms of STD's and largely prevent unwanted pregnancies." He explained, interlacing his fingers together in his lap. "Has Nurse Geto already offered the STD screeding today?" He asked. "Oh, no I think you misunderstand, Ive never.." You paused, and he smiled and nodded at your words, encouraging you to continue, "I've never needed contraceptives because I haven't had sex before, but I've recently been attending college for the first time so I thought It might be smart to start now, you never know what might happen." You explained, looking away from his glowing eyes.
"Ah, good girl, that's a very responsible decision." He praised. What was with these people and their flirty personalities? You felt like your face was going to explode with how hot it was. Geto hummed in agreement in the background, making you look between the two of them. "Well, lucky for you my dear, we have manyy~ options available for you." He dragged in his chipper voice. "I'll make sure you leave with some condoms today, Geto will provide those for you at the end of your appointment, so you'll be covered there." He said, making you smile and nod in appreciation.
"But for the big guns, we have the pill, which is most common but typically has the most intense side effects." Your face scrunched up at the sound of side effects, yuck. He explained a couple more options, Nexplanon; an implant that would go in your arm, which made you cringe, A shot you would get once every three months; which sounded annoying, and an IUD, which would essentially get shoved into your cervix via some overworked and mean woman who doesnt care about your general well being and just wants to go home to sleep.
He laughed at your face when you stared at your feet with an expression of disgust. "You don't seem very thrilled with any of the options." He said, rolling his chair over to yours as he caressed his big hand over your back. This was a lot more to take in than you thought. "Am I supposed to be?" You asked, looking up at your lashes at his face that was far too close for comfort, yet you wouldn't dare tell him to move. Geto laughed at your response, "Absolutely not, being a woman is hell, and they aren't going to make it any easier by giving us some nice, painless out of getting pregnant." She said, making your sigh.
As intimidating as these two were, you felt strangely comfortable talking to them about this, especially with how real they were being. Geto was clearly not afraid to give you the cold hard truth and not sugar coat anything. "Are you on birth control?" You aked Geto, quickly putting your arms out in front of you as your face heated up, "I am so sorry! You don't have to answer that!" You panicked, making the both of them giggle.
"It's alright sweetie, Id be more than happy to tell you. Talking to another woman about their own experience with certain forms of birth control can help you make your own informed decision." She smiled. You don't think you've ever wanted to fuck a woman so bad in your life. You mentally slapped yourself from getting aroused at her explaining birth control to you, but the way she was being so supportive made your stomach do flips.
"And you definitely don't need to make a decision today," Gojo added, removing his hand from your back as he sat back into his chair, spreading his legs out wide. "Doctor Gojo is right," Geto added, before she rose to her feet and walked over to where you sat before sitting down next to you herself and placing her hand on your knee.
"As for your question, I used to be on the pill, but taking it every day at the same time got tedious, so I got an IUD and it was the best decision I ever made." She said, rubbing her hand over your knee in a way that you assume was supposed to be comforting but it just heightened your arousal if anything. She leaned in till her mouth was right against your ear and whispered, "The best part is your partner can come inside and you don't even have to think about it." She giggled, pulling back her hand from your leg as she stood up and got back into her place behind Gojo's seat.
So that was flirting, right? She was 100% flirting right there, there was no doubt in your mind. "No secrets," Gojo whined, pouting at Geto while she stuck her tongue out at him. You couldn't even pay attention to the banter between them as your ear was still tingling from where she whispered into it.
"I-I think the IUD sounds good." You said, making Geto giggle. "Did what I tell you help you come to that conclusion?" She asked, Once again making Gojo beg for her to tell him what she said. "Geeez." She said, shooing Gojo off of her with her hand, "I just let her know that she doesn't have to worry if her partner comes inside her." She said, making a grin plaster itself over Gojo's handsome features.
"Ohh" He cooed, "Yeah that is a nice perk." The white-haired man said, rolling his chair away from Geto's personal space. "Does that sound like something you're interested in?" The handsome doctor asked, making you choke on your saliva. "H-huh, I uh, I don't know, It sounds like it could be nice.." You said under your breath. "A IUD sounds like it could be nice?" He repeated, making you freeze as you realized you misunderstood his question. Of course he wasn't asking you if you wanted to get cream pied, for fuck's sake. You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole right now.
Geto snickered under her breath, a light blush coating her face at your confession. "Well, it is nice, She's not wrong." The dark-haired woman added, making your embarrassment worse as you hid your face in your hands. "Ughhhh.. sorry." Your muffled voice came through your hands, making Gojo laugh softly. "It's okay, no one is judging here." He said, taking the opportunity to once again study your body under his intense gaze as your eyes were obstructed.
You took a deep breath before dropping your hands into your lap, intertwining your fingers as you twiddled with your thumbs. "I'll make a follow-up appointment for a week from now to give you some time to think about it." He said, changing the subject so as to not embarrass you any further. Geto typed some notes down into her laptop from behind him while Gojo scrolled through your chart. He made sure you had no other questions regarding the topic before he continued.
"Alright, so It says here in your chart that your last physical exam was over three years ago, is that right?" He asked you, "Yes, that's right." you replied, noticing how he tsked at your answer. "You really should be making regualr visits to the doctor~" He cooed, wiggling his long finger out in front of him. "When was the last time you had a breast exam? Im not seeing any notes about that in your chart either." He said, scrolling on the computer.
You bit your lip before answering, "I uh, I've never gotten a.. a breast exam." You said, making both Geto and Gojo turn their heads to look at you. "Oh honey, those are so important you know, you should be checking yourself yearly after you turn 18." Geto explained. You knew she was right but it sounded so embarrassing. You remember trying it yourself once, following the guide of som video years ago, but you had no idea what you were feeling for, and the thought of some doctor doing it for you made you even more nervous, so you just abandoned the thought.
"I tried myself after we learned about it in high school but.. I didn't know how to do it, and it seemed so humiliating to ask my doctor to help me." You said, making brief eye contact with the two before you looked around the room, avoiding their eyes. Geto and Gojo simultaneously bit their lip, their faces heating up at your innocent confession before the white-haired man spoke up. "Honey, that's what we're here for, you should never feel embarrassed for keeping yourself healthy." He cooed, standing from his seat as his long legs took him over to the cupboards, where he pulled out a white gown.
"Go ahead and put this on, we'll leave the room to give you some privacy." He explained, putting the white cloth in your hands. "We can do your breast exam today, along with your other physical exam testing." He said, smiling at you warmly before he tipped his head at Geto and signaled for the two of them to leave. You waited until the door clicked shut before you stood. You looked around the room before you started undressing.
You pulled off all of your clothes, save for your panties, which you couldn't help but notice that you had completely soaked through. You hoped they wouldn't somehow notice during the exam, you would be absolutely mortified. You folded your clothes and placed them on the empty chair next to your bag, while you waited with a racing heart for them to re-enter the room.
Gojo and Geto had moved just a couple feet down the hall, leaning against opposite sides of the wall next to the window while they waited. "Good call on bringing up the breast exam," Geto spoke through the silence, which made him sigh in relief as Gojo's body relaxed, dropping his arms by his side. "Oh I'm so glad you said something, I thought it was pretty smart." He giggled mischievously.
"So what do you think of her?" Geto asked, twirling a dark strand of her hair around her manicured fingers. "She's fucking adorable, I just wanna bend her over the exam table and fuck the life outta her." Gojo wined, tipping his head back against the wall. Geto laughed in response, wholeheartedly agreeing with her perverted best friend.
"I'm so glad this ridiculously long coat covers my crotch, I've been so unbelievably hard from the second I laid eyes on her." Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair before he stared down at his crotch. "Wouldn't wanna scare her away now." Geto laughed, following his gaze down to his covered crotch and nodding in approval when she couldn't see the massive tent he was sporting through the cover of it.
The two of them would feel bad about talking about a clueless patient like this, but you were so fun to tease, and you were just too fucking cute that it overwhelmed any rational thinking from them. The two friends truly did share a brain cell when they were around you. "Yeah, I hear you, I wonder if she's into women, I would love to see her doe eyes looking up at me while I sit on her face." She day dreams, huffing out a sigh of her own.
"Oh, are you kidding?" Gojo laughed, "Did you see the way she clenched her thighs when you put your hand on her knee? She definitely swings both ways." The two of them gossiped for a couple minutes like their high school days, before Geto got a glimpse of the time on Gojo's watch. "She's probably done now don't you think?" Geto said, tapping her heel against the floor. "Yeah, it's time." Gojo smiled, giving Geto a sneaky fist bump before they made their way back to your room.
You held the fabric closer to your body when you heard them knock on the door. Once you verbalized that they could come inside, the door squeaked open, and they stepped into your space once more. "Oh my god thank you for folding your clothes so neatly." Geto sighed, holding her hand over her chest while she spoke. "I swear these old babies just leave their clothes all over the floor like children, then ask me to clean it up after." She sighed, referring to the old patients they saw all too often.
Her relief made you laugh, easing your nerves a bit as you waved your hand in front of you, telling her it was no problem. "Alright, go ahead and sit up here for me." Doctor Gojo spoke, patting his hand on the parchment lined exam bed in the middle of the room. You raised to your feet, holding the back of the gown shut behind your ass as you climbed onto the bed and sat down.
Gojo stood inches from his pelvis touching your knees as he gripped the rubber reflex hammer in his massive hand, making it look dwarfed. Geto walked around him and sat in one of the chairs that gave her the best view, bringing her laptop with her to disguise her perverted antics as work. "Is it alright if I touch you?" Gojo asked, looking into your eyes as he waited for his answer.
To your own surprise, you were able to keep contact with them as you nodded shyly, and dropped your gaze to his hand as it started for your knee. You twitched instinctively when his warm hand cradled the underside of your knee before smoothing it around to the front and gently pushing the fabric of the gown up so he could have a better view of what he was doing.
He pressed his palm flat against your thigh, right above your knee, and hit the rubber against your knee, making it kick up reflexively as you kicked against his shin lightly. "Oh- sorry doctor." You apologized. "Don't be, sweetheart." He laughed, "It's not like you can control it." He said. He then instructed you to scoot against the edge of the bed so he could press his stethoscope against various parts of your torso.
"This might be a little cold." He warned before his big hand came to stabilize your lower back as he pressed the cold metal agaisnt the skin on your back, making you tense up at the touch. He apologized and continued pressing the stethescope over specific points on your back as he had you inhale deeply for him. "Thats right, just like that." He praised when you listende obediantly to his instruction, making your face flush, something Geto did not miss as she sat in front of you with a perfect veiw of your entire body.
His warm hand made your skin feel like it was on fire, you pulled your lip between your teeth when his hand moved lower on your back, as did his stethoscope. His body was so close to yours, your knees practically pressed against his waist.
“Your heart is racing~” he teased, pulling away entirely as he spoke some numbers to Geto, making her type them down on her laptop. “It’s been a while..” you laughed awkwardly. “Since someone touched you?” he said, making every hair on your body stand on edge. “S-since I’ve been to the doctor, I mean..” you clarified, cleaning your throat as you avoided his eyes which were staring straight through yours. The white-haired man smiled at your response before he leaned back, removing his touch from your body.
"Right," He said before he hung his stethescope back around his neck. "Are you ready for the breast exam?" He asked, which mad you clench your thighs together at what was to come. "I uh.. I think so, but I have a question." You said, staring up at his face that seemed to be beaming with excitement. "Is there any way that Nurse Geto could um.. do the exam?" You asked, embarrassment laced in your tone. "I don't mean to offend you, its just, she's.." You stuttered.
If you had been paying attention you would've seen the way the light drained from Gojo's face, as he tried his best to maintain his smile. "Absolutely!" Geto perked, standing from her chair as she placed her hand on Gojo's shoulder, pushing him out of the way. "I would be more than happy to take over." She said kindly, giving Gojo a smug look over her shoulder before walking past him.
"Thats. Perfectly. Fine!" Gojo grit through his faux smile, his eye twitching at the fact that Geto got to touch you before him. If it were any other nurse he would've been fine with it. Sure, he still would've been bummed out; but it would've been fine. Only now, because he knew Geto had the same motives as him, it irritated him to no end.
"Do you want me to leave the room too?" He asked, trying to not let the 'sore loser' seep into his tone. He heaved an internal sigh of relief when you shook your head, allowing him to stay in the room. "Alright, I'm going to draw this curtain for some privacy, then we can get to it." She said, making you bite your lip and nod at her, as you held eye contact with her dark eyes. You watched with bated breath as she drew the curtain between the two of you, and the doctor.
Unbeknownst to you, she had sent the man on the other side one last smug look before she closed the curtain. Once she secured it to the hook on the wall, she turned to face you, holding her hands together in front of her. "Alright sweetie, whenever you're ready, you can remove your gown." Her smooth voice echoed into the room. Gojo had made himself comfortable leaning against the wall, his head tipped back against it as he bit his lip and tried to quiet his own pounding heart enough to listen to what was happening just a couple feet from him.
You held the fabric over your chest, getting a hold of your nerves before you slid it down your arms. Geto kept her eyes on your face, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. She did however get a peek of them through her prerephrial vision, which would suffice for now. "Do you prefer to sit or stand for this?" She asks, already looking into your eyes when you look back to her. "I- I think I'll sit, if that's okay." You replied. You seriously didn't know if your legs would hold up if you were to stand right now, they were already trembling and she hadnt even done anythng yet.
She stepped into your space, slotting herself between your knees and up against the hospital bed as she released her fingers from one another, coming to rest on the side of the bed. "I'm going to start now, okay?" She said, smiling when you nodded at her.
You knew you weren't going crazy, something was here, it had to be. The air felt so thick, it felt so hard to breathe with her so close. On top of that, you didn't think you'd ever been so turned on in your life. The throbbing between your legs and the heat that was pooling in your belly was almost unbearable. Your bare chest was out for her eyes; and soon her hands; to feast upon. Your nipples had pebbled from being so exposed, and you could feel the goosebumps that spread along your arms while you held your breath, and watched her reach her hands out to touch you.
When her warm hands made contact with your skin you gasped, quickly pressing your lips together as a crimson blush spread itself darker along your face. "You okay?" She asked, beginning to massage your breasts in her hands. "M-mhm" You answered, looking away from her intimidating gaze and opting to look at the floor while she squished and squeezed your breasts in her hands.
When she made sure she wouldn't be caught looking, she dropped her gaze to your breasts. She felt her cunt pulse around nothing when the view of your completely unobstructed tits registered in her brain. She quickly licked her lips, trying to snap herself out of the trance she was in and focus on the task at hand.
On the other side of the curtain, Gojo had his palm pressed over his mouth, his head still tipped back against the wall as his other was rubbing himself slowly over his slacks. His head was spinning listening to the little gasps and whines you made, he wished so badly that he was the one making you make all those sounds; what he wouldn't give to see your face right now.
His legs threatened to buckle underneath him the longer he stroked himself, he knew he shouldn't be doing this but the only other person who would ever know about this was Geto, and he knew she would take it to the grave.
A loud moan emanating from the other side of the curtain made him freeze. "Sorry honey, did that hurt?" Geto asked in her sultry voice, quickly looking back up to your eyes to avoid being caught ogling your tits. "N-no, didn't.. didn't hurt." You said, looking up at her from underneath your eyelashes. "Mmm.. just sensitive, huh?" She asked, pouting her bottom lip at you as she continued massaging your breasts in her hands.
She resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together, taking a deep breath to calm herself when you nodded. "Mine are the same too, I get it." She admitted, making you rub your thighs together. "They feel quite healthy tho, no lumps or anything feeling concerning." She said, bringing the more professional side of things back into play before she lost her cool and kissed you. Gojo was so close to ripping back the curtain to see what was happening, but now more than ever was a time that he needed to exercise patience.
"A-are you sure?" You said, you really didn't want her to stop touching you, it made your cunt pulse whenever she squished your breasts in her hands. "Well.. I'm not as experienced as the doctor.." She drawled, making Gojo remove his hand from his cock as he perked up. "If you're okay with it, we could get a second opinion." She offered, to which you nodded eagerly. She laughed at your enthusiasm before she replied, "Okay, Ill go ahead and let Doctor Gojo in." She smiled, before turning around to untie the curtain from the wall.
You weren't thinking rationally at this point, your brain was feeling foggy and your body was plagued with the need for release. You were no longer as embarrassed as you were before as you sat patiently on the bed and waited for the doctor.
Gojo straightened his coat in front of himself once more when Geto cracked open the curtain for him. She shook her head when she noticed how flushed and out of it he looked, making a vague gesture to his hair, telling him to fix it before he presented himself to you.
After the man ran his hands through his soft hair a couple of times— and after receiving a nod of approval from Geto— he made peeked his head inside, and let Geto shut the cloth behind him, tying it to the wall once more to block them off from the rest of the room.
Gojo smiled at you, internally screaming as your eyes made contact with his, meaning he couldn’t peek a look at your bare chest that sat right in front of him, practically begging for him to touch it. “Well hello again, I hope you’ve been well~” he said, easing the palpable tension in the space before he made his way in front of you.
“Heard you wanted a second opinion, hm?” He asked, tilting his head while he smiled at you. “Y-yeah, just in case.. yknow,” you said under your breath. The both of them saw through your lie. They were all picking up on the same tension you felt, and Gojo was well aware that Geto was more than familiar with giving breast exams adequately, she had never asked Gojo for a second opinion before.
“Alright, let’s see.” Gojo whispered before he pushed himself in the same position Geto was before him, right between your legs, as she watched him ‘work’ from the side. As much as Geto loved touching your herself, it made it hard to look at your breasts while she did, so now that Gojo was ‘double checking’ her work, she had the perfect excuse to watch.
You bit your lip between your teeth and looked down at his hands when you felt his larger palms make contact with your breasts. You were unable to stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together as subtly as possible, although not quite subtle enough. Geto’s watchful eyes picked up on your shifting, she watched you cross your ankles together and your spine stiffen while Gojo worked his hands on you.
"Mph-" Your muffled moans vibrated agains your lips as you tried your best to hold back. "Hmm~" Gojo hummed, furrowing his eyebrows together. "Something wrong?" Geto asked, uncrossing her arms from where she stood. "Maybe.. feel this spot right here for me." Gojo asked, moving his hand off of your right breast and letting Geto step into your space. Your body jolted when her cold fingers wrapped around your breast and squeezed roughly while Gojo's hand was still at work on your other.
"Mmm feels a little tender," She said, pouting her bottom lip out. "I-is that bad?" You asked, looking up at her while she watched your breast move under the manipulation of her hand. "How often do you venture up here?" She asked, keeping her eyes on yours while she spoke. "N-not often." You asked, making Gojo and Geto shake their heads in unison. "Thats no good~ Its good to keep the blood moving up here every once in a while." Gojo chastised, giving your tit a particularly hard squeeze.
"It's sooo easy too." Geto continued, leaning into your ear, "You can do it when you're all alone.. getting ready for bed.." Her whispers made your breath pick up, your choked breaths were freely flowing into the air as the two of them massaged your chest. This was no longer about a breast exam, and the three of you knew it. "Touching your nipples is soo good for the blood flow too~" She continued her teasing, pinching your hard bud between her index finger and thumb.
"Anyways~" She said suddenly, removing her hand completely and backing up from you after rolling your nipple between her fingers for a few seconds. Gojo copied her, pulling his hand away from your skin and placing it on his hip as he faced his body towards the dark-haired nurse, "I didn't feel anything abnormal, so I think we've checked all our bases." She said, winking at Gojo, signaling for him to go along with it.
"Oh yeah, I think you're right, they felt veeerry healthy to me," Gojo responded, dragging out his words. You started panicking internally, it couldn't be over already, could it? Had this all really just been professional? Including the stuff Geto just said? Your body was on fire, you were feeling drunk already and they had barely touched you, there was no way it stopped here. "W-wait, that was s-so fast, are you sure you checked thoroughly enough?" You asked, trying and failing to keep the need out of your voice.
"I mean, both of us are pretty experienced with this kind of thing.. and we didn't feel anything wrong, you worried we missed something?" Gojo asked, smirking when you nodded a little too quickly. "Are you sure?" He asked, making you tilt your head in confusion, "Sure about what?" You asked, pulling up the cloth to cover your breasts as you waited for him to speak. "Are you sure you're worried we missed something?" He asked, making Geto cover her mouth with a snicker, before she slapped his shoulder.
"I-yes, w-why else.." You bait, swallowing hard as you try to breathe in the heavy air in the room. "Well~" The white-haired doctor started as he slowly turned his body to face you once more, looking you up and down before he started making his way over to you. The two of you kept eye contact with one another up until he was between your legs again, his big hand came up to push your hand that was holding the gown over your chest down into your lap.
"I know getting your chest played with can feel erotic." He said, curling his lips in on themselves before he reached his hand out for your chest once more, and engulfed your tit in his hand. "Could that be why you don't want us to stop?" He said, tilting his head down at you as he tried to make you look at his eyes again. Your jaw dropped open as soft moans slipped from your tongue and out into the small room around you.
Geto came up from behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head against her shoulder as she looked at you, "Dont lie~" She added, giving you a sinister smile disguised as a sweet one. You took a deep breath, looking between the two of them before you nodded. "Fucking knew it~" Geto cooed, her smile becoming toothy as she released her hold around Gojo and slid between the two of you, sliding her hands under the thin gown against your upper thighs.
Gojo could be heard pouting out a "hey.." from behind the two of you. She leaned in close to your face, her sweet perfume clouding your senses. She licked her lips and gripped your thighs in her hands. "You like me?" She asked, pressing her shiny lips together in a smile. You breathed out a needy 'yes' against her lips, looking up between her eyes and her mouth. "Is this okay?" You asked.
You knew this wasn't exactly standard practice in.. well.. anywhere. And they were absolutely breaking every code in the book right now, but between the three of you, not one of you cared. "Is it okay?" She asked, scrunching her eyebrows at you. "Were all adults here." Gojo smiled, sitting against the arm of the chair as he watched the two of you.
When you nodded, Geto's lips were on yours. "Mmm! Mph-" You moaned against her lips when she wasted no time in making her tongue home in your mouth, she slid her hands to your waist and pulled you against her so you were pelvis to pelvis. "Gotta be quiet for me, okay?" She whispered in between kisses.
You nodded, vocalizing an 'uh-huh" aginst her lips before she climbed on top of you, pressing her knee against your cunt while she kissed you hungrily. You squeezed your thighs around hers, your knee simultaneously bumping against her mound, your leg pushing her dress up her thighs as exposing her panties to your hungry eyes.
"Fuck, this is so fucking hot." Gojo groaned, you cracked your eyes open and looked at him out of the corner of your eye, Geto took the opportunity to grip the bottom half of your face in her hand and tilted it to the side, facing Gojo, as she brought her lips down to your neck and started kissing and sucking the skin there. "Keep your eyes on him, sure hes jerking off right about now." She giggled against your neck, her other hand touching freely over your body.
Her intuition was spot on, the white-haired man was groping himself over his pants, and his white doctor's jacket had been discarded on the chair he was leaning against as he watched the show in front of him.
“D-Doctor Gojo,” you whined, squeezing your thighs harder around Geto’s leg as your arousal spiked watching him jerk off. “You like watchin me baby?” he asked, a drunken smile plastering itself on his face. “Y-yes” you replied, making him put his full weight on his feet as he walked towards you.
“Bet you’ll like touchin me even more.” The white haired man came up on the side of you and held your head in his hand as he pressed his thighs against the bed the two of you were on. Gojo reached for your hand and made you palm him over his pants while Geto turned your head back to her and kissed you once more.
The man’s big hand groped over yours and aided you in touching his cock through his slacks while Geto moaned into your mouth. He felt absolutely massive under your hand, you doubted even Gojo himself could wrap his hand completely around his cock. “Oh good fucking girl.” He praised, biting his lip while he watched the two of you go at it like animals.
Geto dropped her hand from your face and used it to massage your tit once more, paying more attention to your nipple now that she could stop disguising her shameless groping as a breast exam. "You're so sensitive here I don't know how you held out for so long." She teased, pulling her mouth back with a wet sound as she watched your face contort under her hands ministrations against your chest.
Your other hand came up to press her hand against hers, silently telling her not to stop. "Oh yeah? You like that?" She moaned, smiling at your silent plea. "Don't worry baby, Ill make you feel even better." She promised, using the tip of her middle finger to rub around the areola of your nipple, making your hips push up against her knee.
"We" Gojo corrected the dark-haired woman. "We will make you feel even better." The woman laughed, moving her eyes to focus on Gojo's while she leaned down against your chest and sucked the little bud into her mouth. She chose not to respond and instead oped to close her eyes as she hummed around your warm nipple, rolling and sucking it into her mouth, making sure to spend extra attention to the tip of your nipple with her tongue.
Gojo watched your body jerk and squirm against the bed while she alternated between your sensitive nipples; she used her other hand to grope the tit her mouth wasn't on, making sure it didn't feel lonely. Your hand went slack against his crotch, giving Gojo the time to pull away before he was unzipping his pants and pulling his cock through the hole in his boxers.
You moaned sharply when you felt him press your hand around something warm and hard. You instinctively wrapped your hand around it, making him coo at you as you looked over to watch what you were doing. "Yesss, stroke my dick, pretty girl." He smiled, using his big hand to run his fingers through your hair while you slowly and unsurely gave the handsome doctor a handjob.
Geto popped off of your tits after a while, staring down at her work as she admired the light purple hickeys that decorated your breasts along with your swollen nipples from all her sucking. "So fucking pretty," She praised, making Gojo hum in agreement. "I would looove to suck your tits all day, but your cunt has been pulsing against my knee for so fucking long I cant take it anymore." She said, crawling off from on top of you and sliding your panties down your thighs with her.
"Fuck yess." Gojo moaned, biting his lip. He really had no romantic interest in Geto, but you were both undeniably hot, and the thought of watching her eating you out and her making you cum on her tongue in front of him made his dick throb in your grip. "Pervert." Geto smiled smugly, rolling her eyes. "I'm only a man." He said, making her giggle as she pulled your body once more, to the edge of the bed. "W-what are you gonna do." You asked, looking down at the woman between your legs before looking over to the white-haired man on your side.
"Im gonna eat your pussy while you suck Doctor Gojo off, that sound okay to you guys?" She asked, smiling sweetly between the two of you. Both you and Gojo nodded quickly at her proposition, "I can't think of a better idea myself." He responded, dropping his other hand down to caress the head of his best friend. She rolled her eyes at his dramatics before she slung your thighs around her head, kneeling on the steps below the bed.
"You ever squirted before?" She asked you, making you sit up slightly to look at her, "N-no." You answered, making her smile mischievously before she bit your thigh hard, pulling the skin back before releasing it, "You will." She responded confidently. You had no doubt in your mind that she wouldn't. You turned your head back to the doctor, watching your hand stroke his cock while Geto had her way with your thighs.
"You ever sucked a cock before?" He asked, caressing your head comfortingly. His brain short-circled when he watched you look up at him from under your lashes, your doe eyes looking glassy, "Not one as big as yours." You said, dropping your eyes back down to his length. You thought dicks like his only existed in porn. You swallowed hard thinking about how you were going to fit him in your mouth. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." He assured, his abs clenchedwhen you rubbed your thumb over his tip, spreading the wetness down the length of his cock.
He brought himself as close as he could, cradling your head while you stroked his dick right in front of your face, just inches from your mouth. Geto was having the time of her life between your thighs, she was suckinng and biting every last bit of your skin to make sure that every time you looked in the mirror for weeks afterward, you would be reminded of what happened that day.
She brought her mouth closer and closer to where you needed her the most; her teasing making you squeeze your hand around Gojo's cock harder. "Fuck, such a pretty pussy." She mumbled to no one in particular. "If its so pretty, maybe you should eat it already~" Gojo teased, dying to see you squirm on her tongue and feel you moan around his cock while she ate you out.
Geto was constantly bragging to Gojo about her skilled tongue in bed, having seemingly endless stories about how she made guys and girls alike squirt like a fountain in record-breaking times, he was excited to finally see it in person. "Don't tell me what to do Satoru." She chastized--but listened to him anyways.
She leaned her head down between your legs and gave a precise kitten lick to your little clit, making you jolt. You wished you could watch her, but you had work to do yourself, the feeling of her hands wrapping around your thighs while she ate you out would have to do. You brought your own head closer to Gojo's cock and mimicked her actions on you, against him, kitten licking the tip of his dick.
"Yesss," Gojo groaned with a smile, not knowing where he wanted to look more as his eyes darted between your lips that were slowly but surely wrapping themselves around his cock, or in between your legs, where his best friend shook her head back and forth against your wetness, making your body jerk at the intense pleasure. "Holy shit, you're so fucking sweet." She whined against your cunt, sucking the little neglected bud into her mouth.
Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at her ministrations, the vibrations from her voice around your clit sent pleasant chills down your spine. Gojo watched with a slack jaw as you bobbed your head further down his dick, using your small hand to smear the spit you were creating down the length of his cock and jerk off what couldn't fit in your mouth from this angle.
You were grateful to have something plugging you up, because Geto's expert tongue was doing wonders for you, and you weren't sure how quiet you could've been without having Gojo's cock in your throat. This all felt like a fuzzy dream to you, because there was absolutely no way you were getting tag-teamed by your new physician and his hot nurse on top of this this hard hospital bed on a Thursday.
Geto's tongue quickly brought you back down to reality when she started drawing quick circles against your clit with her thumb, as she buried her face as deep as possible against you, tongue fucking your cunt and moaning against you shamelessly. "I don't think you're the one we have to worry about staying quiet." Gojo giggled down at you.
She pulled her mouth back from you, heaving air into her lungs as she spoke, "You're saying that without having tasted her." She said, before dropping her tongue back on you. Gojo wasn't sure how long she had been doing it, but at some point, her hand come down to play with her own needy cunt between your legs while she ate you out. He couldn't see exactly what she was doing because of his blocked vision by the table, but he could see her arm was moving rapidly underneath you.
"Must taste r-real good if she has you fingering yourself." Gojo teased, his words coming out in stutters when you tried to take his cock deeper in your throat, resulting in a gag that made your throat constrict around him. She just moaned in response, keeping up the delicious circles on your clit while she drank up every drop of your arousal that you gave her.
You brought your head away from Gojo's cock, popping your lips back with a lewd wet sound. "Y-you're so big D-doctor." You pouted, staring up at the man. He knew it was so wrong, so absolutely twisted, but when he heard you call him 'doctor' in this situation, it made a heavy drop of pre drip onto your hand. "Oh, you're fucking naughty." He giggled, starting to hump his cock in your hand, making obscene 'schlick' sounds emanate around the room.
You let yourself moan freely for a couple of seconds before your mouth was back on him. You made quick circles around the tip of his cock, rotating your tongue against him while making sure to pay special attention to the vein that ran on the underside of his cock. "What a fucking mouth~" He said, letting his jaw fall open as his head tipped back in a moan, trying his hardest not to release his load over your pretty face so soon.
His brain short-circuited when your other hand joined the mix, massaging his balls in the palm of your hand. "Oh fuck- just like that, don't fucking stopp." He moaned, gripping his nails harder against your scalp while you bobbed your head around his cock and played with his heavy balls in your hands with a delicious rhythm.
The truth was, Geto was rapidly bringing you towards what you knew would be a mindblowing orgasm, and you wanted to make Gojo cum before that, so you put all of your brainpower onto pleasuring him while the dark-haired woman between your thighs alternated between sucking your cit and finger fucking you, curling her fingers against your sweet spot; and tongue fucking you while she spelled her name on your clit with her fingers.
"Think she's gonna cum." Geto mumbled against your pussy, making Gojo groan in acknowledgment. "Fuck, I am too." He responded. "So fucking t-tight." She whimpered into your pussy, quickening the speed of the thrusts inside herself as she used the palm of her hand to grind her clit against it. "You gonna let me cum all over your pretty face? Huh?" Gojo asked, scratching his nails over your head.
You looked up at him through your lashes, your watery eyes trying their best not to roll back in your head as you nodded around him, giving your consent. "You're so fucking." thrust "Perfect." He grinned, giggling when you gagged particularly hard against his mean hips.
The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter, you so desperately needed to see Geto’s face before you came; you knew it would push you over the edge. “Oh- S-shit-“ Gojo groaned, “C-can I fuck your throat? I’m so close, promise I’ll be fast.” The thought of him losing control and humping hi cock into your warm mouth sounded like just what you needed right now.
You shook your head to the best of your ability, dropping both hands from his cock as he grabbed your cheek with his other hand, getting a better leverage on you before he started fucking hi cock down your throat. You brought your hands down to the woman’s hair between your legs and dug your nails into her scalp, making her whine into your clit. “Mhm-mhm-“ she hummed against you while you used her head to hump your own hips against her face.
You fought back gag after gag as gojo used your mouth like his own personal flesh light, biting his lip and gritting his teeth while he focused his gaze intently on your lips that were swallowing up his cock. The tears that had welled up in your eyes began to fall down your cheeks at his rough treatment on your throat.
“Good girl, good fucking girl- almost- fuck-“ Gojo groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as his pace grew sloppy on your throat. The lack of oxygen was bringing you closer to your orgasm, but you so desperately wanted to watch him cum before Geto made you cum first.
Gojo fucked the entirety of his cock down your throat, pressing jus balls against your chin while he grit his teeth, feeling himself twitch in your warm mouth. “Fuuuuuck-“ The white haired man groaned, pulling his hips quickly back from your mouth and letting you cough freely as you swallowed air into your lungs.
Your hips pace against Geto’s mouth was sloppy, your body stuttering as you moved while her lips suction cupped around your clit and teased it with her wet tongue. You turned your head to look down at her, making contact with her glassy eyes and her furrowed brows as she nodded at you, moaning against your wetness.
The sight sent you over the edge, you gripped her hair tightly between your fingers, your nails digging into her scalp in unison as you squirted all over her face. She pulled her mouth and hand she was working on herself back as she fucked her fingers directly into your sweet spot while rubbing quickly back and forth over your sensitive clit, making your juices spray on her.
Gojo stroked his cock next to your face furiously, looking down at your pussy as you squirted all over his best friends face. “Fuckk,” he groaned, grabbing your face in his hand he turned your head to look up at him.
Your eyes were foggy and all out of focus from how hard you came, your body still shaking and twitching from the orgasm as Geto’s fingers fucked you through the aftershocks. “Tongue out.” Gojo grit through his teeth, biting his lip when you quickly obeyed.
“S-shit-“ The doctor tipped his head back as his jaw fell slack. He tapped his cockhead on your tongue, laying it flat on it before he stilled his hand. His hot ropes of cum spurted into your mouth as he groaned freely, fucking his hips into his hand as some streaks of his cum landed on your cheeks and hair. “How pretty.” Geto whined from under you; referring to the painting gojo was creating on your face.
Gojo’s body jerked and jolted as he came all over your face, his head tipping forward towards the end of his orgasm as he squeezed his cock up to the tip, making sure he gave you every last drop of his cum. “Shiiiit” the man giggled, watching you lean your head up and suck his tip clean before you pulled back, letting your head fall against the hard bed as you licked his cum off your lips. “Could she be any more perfect?” he said to Geto.
You were too fucked out to notice that Gojo was still hard, even though he just came. Geto stood up from between your legs, sliding her tights and panties off in the process as she kicked them to some corner of the room. “Well let’s find out.” She answered, giving Gojo a quick smirk before she straddled your limp body.
Without so much as saying a word, she grabbed your cum covered face in her hands and licked Gojo’s cum off your cheeks, making you blush. “Cum hungry slut.” Gojo laughed at his best friend's shameless display of lust. “It’s not for me, freak.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Want this cutie to taste herself, and you when I kiss her.” She said, giving you no room to talk as she pressed her lips against yours.
“fuck yeahh~” Gojo laughed, a drunken smile spreading itself over his face while he watched Geto suck your tongue, making you taste yourself mixed with Gojo’s cum. She pulled back after a while, a string of saliva connecting the two of you as you stared at her with a fucked out expression, “How does that taste?” she asked, keeping her strong grip on your chin as she awaited your answer.
“‘S fucking good, t-thank you.” you slurred, your own aroused smile spreading across your face. She smiled at you, pressing her lips to yours once more in a sweeter kiss before she pulled back, humming when your hands came to rest on top of her thighs. "I know thats fucking right~" Gojo added, beginning to stroke himself again, shamelessly walking over to the bottom half of your body so he could stare at your soaked pussy and the wetness that was smeared all over your thighs.
"It's missing something though.." You continued, watching your hands stroke along her soft pale thighs. She tilted her head at you, waiting for you to continue. "I didn't taste you." You said. Your sudden bold words made her feel like a dozen butterflies had just been hatched and were bouncing inside her stomach. "Yeah? You wanna taste me?" She said, sitting up straight as she rubbed her fingers over your wet lips.
You opened her mouth for her and she slipped her fingers inside the warmth as you did so, her jaw dropping and a crimson blush spreading across her face at how eagerly you sucked down her fingers. "That's a good idea!" Gojo exclaimed, spreading your thighs apart as he pushed them over his shoulders, making himself home between your legs.
You couldn't see him very well because of Geto straddling you, but you felt his plush lips leave soft kisses and bites against your calf and ankle before you felt something else. His dripping cock head was tapping against your folds as he used one hand to slowly rub his cock back and forth across your wetness. "Wanna eat the pretty nurse out while I fuck your cunt? Huh?" Gojo said, making you hum in approval around Geto's fingers.
You would be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous. You had barely been able to take Gojo's cock in your mouth, how on earth would you fit him inside your pussy? "Pretty nurse?" Geto laughed, twisting her body to give Gojo a look of incredulousness. He reached out and squished her soft cheeks in between his hands, shaking her head back and forth a little as he did so, making her face go deadpan. "Yes~ You're such a pretty nurse~" He said, scrunching his nose at her childishly while he did so.
She used her free hand to smack his wrist away before her hand came to rub her own jaw and soothe it from his harsh grip. "I can't stand you," Geto said, rolling her eyes before she flipped her hair in his face, turning her body back to you to watch you suck on her fingers some more. Their banter eased some of the anxiety you were feeling, you were glad they weren't so serious. "And yet you're about to fuck this pretty girl with me~" Gojo cooed, gripping his large hand on the back of her neck as he rubbed his thumb against the skin there.
"I'm separating myself from you at this moment." She said, biting her lip in irritation as she let Gojo massage her neck, unwilling to tell him to stop as the sensation actually felt pleasant. She brought her full attention back down to you, popping her fingers out of her mouth before she crossed her arms over her body and pulled the long sleeve white dress off of her body, discarding it on the floor.
Her breasts bounced animatedly when she removed the fabric, her tits practically spilling out of her bra when she shimmied further up your body, now hovering over your collarbones in nothing but the white bra. You bit your lip as Gojo had begun pressing his cock against your clit and rubbed it in circles, sending pleasure to the both of you.
"Geto please." You wined, your mouth practically drooling with the sight of her cunt being so close to your mouth. "What do you need?" She asked, bringing her fingers wet with your saliva down to rub her clit above you. Gojo shook his head at the scene, stroking himself harder as he continued pressing his cockhead against your little bud. You clenched around nothing at the need to feel him inside you combined with the need to have Geto sit on your face already.
"Wanna eat you out, please." You moaned, wrapping your arms under her thighs as you tried to pull her down on your face. She smiled down at you, feeling herself grow wetter at your words. Gojo wasn't helping in the slightest, he used his thumb to spread your pussy apart and had started to press his tip against your hole, almost letting it slip in before he pulled back. "She sounds so good when she begs," Gojo said, keeping his eyes glued to where the two of you were about to be connected.
"I think so too~" Geto agreed, sliding her fingers down her pussy as she pressed her fingers against her opening, letting them slide inside herself as she tipped her head back. You watched with a slack jaw as she fingered herself on top of you, your mouth watered every time she pulled her fingers out and saw how they were coated with her wetness. "Gojo- Geto- please," You begged, needing to feel some sort of stimulation from someone.
"Gojo p-please fuck me- c-cant take it." you continued, looking between Geto's eyes and her dripping cunt as soft moans fell from her lips and flooded your ears. "Watching her get off is makin' you all horny huh?" He teased, watching your lower body squirm as you tried to press yourself against Gojo and slip his cock inside of you. "Y-yes" You felt the tears start to well up in your eyes with how bad you needed them, the sight made Geto furrow he brows and coo above you.
"Aww, Gojo, she's crying." She said, giggling. The man behind you let out a loud groan as he gripped his cock harder in his hold. "Fuck, really?" He said, his arousal very evident in his tone. "Maybe we should stop teasing her then." He said, pressing his tip harder against your entrance and making you think he was really going to give it to you that time. "Yesyesyes" You slurred, rolling your hips against Gojo as he finally let his tip slide inside you.
You accidentally let out a too-loud moan at the stimulation, making Geto 'tsk' down at you. "Shut her up Suguru, she's gonna get even louder in a minute." Gojo grit through his teeth, holding the base of his cock tightly to prevent him from cumming prematurely as he slid his cock deeper into your walls. Your chest rose and fell quickly the deeper he gave it to you, the ache in your pelvis slowly subsiding.
"Yeah yeah." She said, rolling her eyes before she removed her fingers from herself and licked them clean, moving her body up to straddle your mouth while she pressed her hands next to your head to steady herself. "Just so you know, if it were up to me, I would be teasing you for hours." She said smugly, before finally, finally dropping her weight and pressing her cunt against your mouth.
She did so a the perfect timing too, right when Gojo bottomed out. Meaning you moaned long and loudly against her cunt, making her shiver at the intensity of the vibrations. "Oh fuc-kk, so fucking tight." Gojo moaned, tipping his head back and shutting his eyes as he let the both of you adjust to the feeling and girth of him stretching out your walls.
You tried to squeeze your thighs together but to no avail, as Gojo held them apart, gripping your thighs that hung over his shoulders. Geto wasted no time in rocking her hips against your mouth, moving one of her hands to grip itself in your hair as your lips came to suck on her neglected clit. Her taste was just what you were missing, you wanted to keep your eyes on hers but the attention from the both of them was too much, making you roll your eyes back in your head.
"Oh s-shit." She wined, biting her lip as you ate her out with vigor. "Gonna move now," Gojo warned before he started up a brutal pace on your cunt. Loud squelches and slaps echoed through the small room with the intensity of his thrusts, making Geto chastise him, "G-gojo too f-fucking loud."
"I don't give a fuck," He groaned, dropping his chin as he stared down at your cunt, watching a ring of your cum form around the base of his thick cock. "I dare someone to say shit to me." The doctor added, dropping one of his hands down to where the two of you were connected as he started rubbing his thumb in delicious circles against your clit, making you wine and moan into Geto's pussy.
She was leaking so much into your mouth, so much so that you had no more doubts in your mind or anxieties about not being able to make her feel good. She was gasping and moaning on top of you, all of her snarky comments flooding from her brain at the way your tongue was fucking her stupid. She rocked her clit against the tip of her nose, making her stomach clench and her body jerk over you every time her hips humped forward.
"Fucking hypocrite." Gojo huffed out a short laugh, reaching his other hand around Geto's mouth as he covered it, quieting her moans as they became muffled against his palm. "Some noisy fucking ladies you are~" He cooed. The squelching between your legs increased as he fucked into you with more vigor. "You like bein' used like this? Huh?" Gojo asked, rubbing your clit with pinpoint precision and making your eyes roll back in your head. "Squeezin' me so tight down here feels like you're tryna milk me." The doctor laughed, his jaw-dropping in a small o when your cunt squeezed around him particularly hard.
"Too bad you're not on birth control now or id fill this pretty cunt up." He said, shaking his head in disbelief at how good you felt around him. Geto's moans increased when your tongue fucked into her deeper, Gojo's words heightening your arousal. "Bet you'd like that huh?" His filthy mouth continued. "Your doctor cumming inside your perfect little cunt while Nurse Geto fucks your face." His own eyes rolled back at his words, he felt his cock twitch with how badly he wished he could fill you up.
Geto's other hand that was stabilizing herself by your head came up to grip Gojo's wrists, the volume of her moans getting louder against the palm of his hand; simultaneously her hips started losing their rhythm on your face. "Shit" Gojo laughed, "Think you're gonna make her cum." He said, which made you increase your antic on her cunt, opting to suck her clit back into your mouth so she didn't have to strain her thighs by humping against your face.
That was the right call, her body stopped being able to grind against you the closer she got to her orgasm, her hips jolted and jerked against your mouth as she gripped harder onto Gojo's wrist. "Yeah yeah give it to her, cum in her fucking mouth." Gojo groaned, talking her through it while you encouraged her from below, moaning "mhm-mhm." Into her wetness.
Gojo pressed his balls as hard as he could against your ass as he fucked his cock to the hilt inside of you and stilled there, waiting for Geto's orgasm to finish. The woman could be heard moaning profanities mixed with your name into Gojo's palm as you sucked the orgasm out of her, her body curled in on itself as her high rippled through her. Every time she jerked forward, a bit of her cum spurted itself into your mouth. You slowed your tongue against her as her body's jerking got less and less frequent, until her shaking stopped altogether.
Gojo removed his hand from her mouth as she collapsed down on the side of you, breathing heavily. "Holy fuck, no one ever made me cum that hard." She confessed, clenching her thighs together in the aftershocks as you smiled at her drunkenly. "You're so pretty." She said, sliding her body down so she was laying the side of you, one knee thrown over your body as she caressed your cheek in her hand and combined your lips together in a kiss.
"Aww, so sweet." Gojo cooed, biting his lip and smiling before he resumed his pace on your cunt, making you pull back from the kiss as you moaned loudly. "Asshole, we were having a moment." Geto chastized, rolling her eyes at his childish behavior. "I was feeling left out." He whined, rolling his hips against yours and creating delicious friction against your sweet spot inside you. "That feel good?" He asked, finally being able to see your pretty, fucked out face.
"Y-yes, so good Doctor G-gojo." Once again, the inappropriate use of his title made his cock throb unreasonably hard; he wouldn't look too hard into it. "Fuck, you really are so pretty." He said, shaking his head at how gorgeous you looked with your pace covered in Geto's cum, your eyes all out of focus, and your hair going in every direction from the face fucking. "Geto," Gojo started, making the dark-haired woman lay her face against the crook of your neck while she looked down at him.
"Keep her quiet." He instructed once more. She did not need to be told twice. Lifting her head, she once again pressed your lips together and slotted your lips together slowly, tasting herself on your tongue. "S-so sweet." You whined, making her giggle against your lips. "Thank you, baby." She replied, swallowing up your moans as Gojo fucked you with more vigor.
"Shiiit, wish I was fucking recording this right now." Gojo wined, pulling his lip between his teeth, "You guys making out is so fucking hot." He said, rubbing his thumb on your clit harder and faster as he brought the both of you to your impending orgasms. The way your cunt pulsed rhythmically was the first clue that you were about to make a mess on his cock.
"S-shit, gonna squirt again? Huh? Gonna squirt all over my cock this time?" Gojo questioned, his teasing tone making the coil in your tummy tighten. You pulled back from Geto's lips, making eye contact with him. "Y-yes sir." You wined. The new name caught him off guard, but he was in no universe complaining. "Yeah? Good fucking girl let me see it then, wanna feel you cum all over my cock." He moaned, his hips stuttering as his pace lost its rhythm.
Geto cupper her hand over your mouth and stared her dark eyes into yours, "You can do it baby, cum all over him, just like you did on my mouth." You blushed at their words, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening before Geto was dropping her head down to your nipple, and sucking, and thats all it took.
"Fuck yeahhh~" Gojo moaned, rubbing his fingers back and forth over your clit as you came around his cock, your squirt wetting his abdomen and slacks alike with the intensity of your orgasm. Geto moaned around your nipple, her other hand coming to pinch the other between her fingers as the two of them worked you through it.
About halfway through your orgasm, Gojo pulled out. The doctor kept up his fingers against your clit, his movements getting sloppy as he jerked himself off over your tummy, "fuck- fuck cumming, cumming-" He warned before he released his hot seed on your tummy. His body jerked forward and his abs clenched as he spurted long ropes of his cum onto your skin, his eyes rolling back in his head as he pictured behind his eyelids that he was filling you up with his cum and not wasting it like this.
Despite that fact, he just had one of the most intense and satisfying orgasms he has ever had. "Holy fuck." The man groaned, his eyes rolling back into place from the back of his head as he came down from his high. He let your legs drop from his shoulders and onto the bed as his hands chased them, squeezing the fat of your thighs to stabilize himself.
The both of you breathed heavily into the small room, and the three of you stayed silent as you let your souls find their way back into your body, Geto popped off of your nipples after a couple seconds and rested her head against your collarbones while she waited for the two of you to calm down.
"Wow." Your voice could be heard throughout the room, breaking the silence, and making the two of them laugh. "Couldn't have said it better myself." Gojo snorted. "Oh shit, what about the other patients." You said panicked, sitting up on your forearms as the woman lying on your chest was pushed up with you. "Shhh, it's okay," Gojo cooed, rubbing your thighs as he ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "You were my last patient." He said, making you sigh in relief. "I think." He finished, making both you and Geto drop your jaws simultaneously.
"Youre so irrisponsibale." Geto said, shaking her head as she caressed your tummy. "Say that when you're not lying on the hospital bed naked and covered in cum with a patient." He said, tilting his head to the side as he let his eyes fall shut and smiled. She just narrowed her eyes at him as he tucked his softening cock back into his pants before he started to make himself look presentable again.
Once he was finished he gathered Geto's and your clothes from the floor and leaned over you, placing his hand on your thigh as he leaned his face just inches from yours, "You did so fucking well." He said before he leaned in and gave you a soft kiss before pulling away and staring into your eyes intimately, "Just in case you were having any doubts." He added before leaning away completely and turning to untie the curtain that blocked the three of you off from the rest of the room.
Geto made herself comfortable behind you as she watched Gojo tidy up the room, laying her head on your shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your naked body. "Are you guys gonna stay there forever or?" He asked once he had made the room look like three people didn't just fuck in it. Geto looked up at the ceiling, contemplating her answer before she answered, "Mmm, I think so, yeah." She finally said, kissing your shoulder and making you giggle before she slid out from behind you and started dressing herself again; making you follow her lead.
After you had gotten dressed again; and fixed Geto's hair per her request; Gojo cleared his throat before speaking, "I'll put in a good request for a transfer so you can follow up with a good friend of mine about that IUD." He said too formally, making you panic slightly. Of course, he didn't want you to be his patient anymore, it would be inappropriate, but damn did it hurt. "Did.. did I do something wrong?" You asked insecurely, making the two of them tilt their heads at you.
"Well, I don't know about Geto.." He started, making you hold your breath at the impending rejection, "But I like where this relationship is headed, so I don't think it appropriate for us to stay Doctor/Nurse and patient if want to see where this goes," He said, making Geto smile and nod in agreement, "If, that's something you want." He finished.
"You could've led with that." You said, heaving out a sigh that made the both of them laugh. "Yeah, that's my fault~" Gojo laughed, rubbing his large hand on the back of his neck. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm rushing I just.." He scrunches up his face before speaking, "I guess I've been getting paged for the last half hour about another patient I allegedly had after you." He said, a nervous smile plastering itself over his face, making Geto facepalm.
"Scram, I'll take over from here and meet you in a second," Geto said, to which Gojo placed his hand on her shoulder and thanked her dramatically. The tall man walked up to you, grabbing your hips in his large hands before he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, using his thumb to pull down your bottom lip when he pulled away. "Text me when you get that IUD and ill show you how good gettin' your pussy filled with cum can feel~" He said confidently, leaving a peck on your lips before he spoke one last thanks to Geto, and was out the door.
"I'll take good care of you, let's get our digits in that phone of yours and we can start on the transfer resuest~" Geto cooed, holding her hand out for you to place your phone in.
You might have left the building with one less doctor than you had when you came in, but you left with two potential partners, and that was more than fine with you.
3K notes · View notes
theodore-sallis · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“The Old Die Young,” Man-Thing (Vol. 1/1974), #7.
Writer: Steve Gerber; Penciler and Inker: Mike Ploog; Colorist: Glynis Wein; Letterer: John Costanza
1 note · View note
earlysunshines · 5 months
Text
killshot
im nayeon x fem!reader ; smut!! 
synopsis: your roommate is aware that you hate her and she likes irritating you but oh no she just now realizes you’re hot and wants you so bad
warnings: kinda porn w no plot ; smut!!! ; mentions of alcohol ; hate fucking(???) ; degradation kinda ; insulting each other as they fuck yesss ; face riding ; comp sci major!reader *shivers and shakes* ; fwb-ish but not really ; nayeon is umm lowk manipulative but only if you squint , maybe? ; not proofread as always
wc: 5.1k
a/n: computer science major slander (i'm jealous) and also i don’t like the pacing but oh well maybe u guys will (i'd be such a great writer if i weren’t lazy af... )
Tumblr media
with a groan, you lift yourself off the bed after hearing a loud thud. tiredly, you blindly reach for your phone and check for the time with squinted eyes: 1:04am. 
a low “fuck” leaves your lips while you struggle to sit up, still hearing the impact of bodies crashing against the walls and the faint sounds of a woman and man groaning through the bedroom door.  
nayeon is home. 
this is a bi-weekly occurrence; your roommate nayeon stumbles into the apartment all hot and heavy from the alcohol that was in her system, and then you can hear her getting all intimate—against your will—with some random person she’s found at the various clubs she cycles through. to be completely honest, you don’t care for her midnight rendezvous, just as long as they don’t bother you. 
however, this night she’s bothered you greatly; you’re fucking irritated. 
just when you had finally sought solace in the arms of sleep after hours of laboring over a project, your few minutes of rest are abruptly shattered by the intrusion of nayeon. —all drunk and insatiable—who’s barging into your room whilst some average guy latches onto her neck. he doesn’t look like he knows what he’s doing, but it doesn’t matter because nayeon’s senses are too fucked to really pay attention to that. 
“get the hell out of my room.” you yell angrily towards the two. to say you were annoyed would be an overwhelming understatement, you were furious. 
“ah—fuck, sorry y/n,” she responds, voice all airy and light whilst the man’s hand slides down to play with the edge of her dress. “wrong room baby, let’s go.” she says whilst pushing the man off her a bit, much to his dismay. 
they both leave the room, still attached to each other with their hands roaming and gripping at anything. to make matters even worse; they didn’t close the door behind them. 
“fucking whore.” you scoff, falling back down on your bed and groaning.  
im nayeon is an indescribable pain in your ass and unfortunately, she also happens to be your roommate. 
for the most part, you generally pride yourself on your composure and tolerance, but living with nayeon has truly put your patience to the test. she's irresponsible and unreliable, which regularly pushes you to your limits. you find yourself frustrated sharing an apartment with someone who’s always falling hort of your expectations. she's falling far from them, really, and it’s almost impressive. 
she has a knack for disappearing into the lurking in the apartment while you're away, often entertaining friends and leaving behind a mess in her wake. the audacity she possesses to neglect simple chores like doing the dishes or tidying up after herself borders on infuriating, you’re fighting the urge to bodyslam her into the mattress sometimes. it's as though she expects the cleaning fairy to magically swoop in and restore order while you're left to pick up the pieces of her irresponsibility, maybe she thinks you’re the fucking cleaning fairy. 
living with her was hell, you don’t even know how she managed to keep up with her courses and stay sane with how she lived her life. she was a pretentious, sassy little thorn stuck in your skin. 
but still, there are two things that keep you tethered to the apartment, even if it's a bit embarrassing to admit on factor. one: the rent is cheaper, and your shared living space is nice. two: nayeon’s fucking hot. 
the truth is: nayeon is the epitome of physical allure, the hottest person you've ever laid eyes on. as much as you resent her for her shortcomings, you find yourself unable to ignore the pull of her undeniable visuals, which whispers against the urge to pack your bags and leave.  
you despised the stupid allure of her face, the way her figure teased and tempted, and the fact that she held the power to have you on your knees if she poked you in the right ways. it grated on your nerves to know that you weren't the only one drawn to her; half the campus seemed to be either enamored with her, aspiring to be her, or eager to get into her pants. and she wielded her beauty like a weapon, using her "pretty privilege" to her advantage.  
the feeling you had towards her was bitter, but the attraction you had made things complicated. 
it was easy to mask your little attraction for your pretentious roommate with annoyed comments and irritated glares, but deep inside you wanted her in ways that you could never admit out loud. countless daydreams and very questionable thoughts about her invaded your mind at the worst times possible, espeically when she was near. 
your irritation mixed with attraction was mutual. nayeon felt the same way about you; what a match. 
at first, nayeon found herself irritated by your stuck-up demeanor and seemingly perfect self. your involvement in various extracurricular activities, dedication to your studies, and honestly majoring in computer science major as a whole contributed to her initial impression of you as someone who had it all together. it was a stark contrast to her own carefree attitude and laid-back approach to everything, which built friction between the two of you. 
(nayeon could never do all of that, study for hours and keep her shit together. and god, especially watching you type for two hours straight already made her head swirl. how does someone do that without losing their shit? she wonders if you’re okay) 
from nayeon's perspective, you were nothing more than a stuck-up bitch in her shared home, always fussing over cleanliness like a relentless clean freak. it striked a nerve every time you scolded her for leaving behind a couple of dishes or a few stray bottles of alcohol. if it bothered you so much, why not just pick up after yourself instead of constantly complaining? 
despite the irritation you stirred within her, nayeon couldn't deny the undeniable truth: you were actually pretty cute for a nerdy, uptight roommate. in fact, she'd even go as far as to admit that you were pretty hot. 
nayeon has seen the people in the computer science department, most of them are men who look like they’ve never spoken to a woman or gone outside for more than thirty minutes a day. you on the other hand were quite the sight, someone nayeon would describe as “eye candy.” 
and yeah, she kind of overlooked the fact that you were her type after you had yelled at her so much, but then there was this one little moment that changed her mind. maybe she could tolerate you more. 
(maybe nayeon had to put looks first in this case.) 
-- 
-- 
some thursday afternoon, while you typically would be found either buried in books at the library or enjoying the afternoon at a café, nayeon found herself in a predicament—she couldn't find one of her favorite t-shirts. with frustration growing, she decided to take matters into her own hands and went into your room to see if it had somehow ended up there, given that you were supposed to be out.  
to her surprise, she discovered that you were most definitely home, a fact that caught her completely off guard—especially when you’re home in your room, in the middle of taking your pants off. 
she barges into your room to see you with your shirt off and the fly of your pants down, revealing some of the logo of your victoria’s secret underwear. your cheeks flush a dark hue of red when you realize she’s invaded your privacy, and you quickly cover your chest—which, is already covered since you have a bra on, but god is this whole situation embarrassing.  
after you literally push her out the door—slamming it shut with embarrassment—nayeon stands outside the door with a newfound interest.  
nayeon couldn't fathom that someone who dedicated their sanity to lines of numbers and letters on a screen could look so good. there was something mesmerizing about the subtle groove tracing down your stomach, hinting at the definition of your abs, or the glimpse of your bicep as you hastily covered yourself and scolded her for intruding, maybe even the hint of muscle on your shoulders. whatever it was—all nayeon knew was that the little mishap of you not locking the door and giving her the chance see you like that piqued her interest without doubt. 
and after seeing you half naked? the image of you, with your shirt off and the hint of your physique tantalizingly on display? holy shit you had her fantasizing a little (a lot) more than she already had been; she needed some of her fantasies to come true.  
your roommate had already been attentive to your quick—and evident—glances on her body and her lips. she also noted the subtle bite of your lips when she swayed by, your eyes barely caught her, but she noticed it all. getting her fantasies to become a reality seemed easy enough—probably—and she was determined to make it all happen.  
she knew she already had you starting to wrap around her finger, just by those observations, so it should be easy enough to get you hot and heavy, right? 
“oh look who’s finally fucking awake.” you mutter, turning around to see the hungover, marked up woman emerging from the hall.  
nayeon rolls her eyes at you like always and simply responds, “oh shut up, don’t be a drag.” 
“i’m a drag? i’m not the one barging in at one in the morning the same night my roommate stays up to actually do their school shit. not only that, but that fucking guy—” 
“was a terrible kisser,” nayeon cuts you off, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i kicked him out so can you please just—” 
“no!” you scoff, surprising nayeon with this burst of anger. you’re much more irritated than usual, which is weird. nayeon suspects that it’s because she’s never accidentally stumbled into your room, and to be fair; this was kind of intentional.  
you see, nayeon thought that if she could make you a little jealous, it’d increase the chances of you intervening. just what she wanted. 
“i couldn’t fucking sleep and i have a really important assessment today.” 
“yeah yeah, move over i need some tea.” nayeon says tiredly. upon hearing her response, you clench your jaw tightly and lean against the marble counter, gripping it with one hand tightly to suppress your annoyance. 
your roommate looks at you and a laugh slips out accidentally. after hearing that, there's probably a vein visible on your forehead, maybe your neck—somewhere. 
that was your last straw. 
angrily, you lift yourself off the counter and swiftly advance towards nayeon, pinning her against the fridge with force. the impact reverberates through her as her back meets the cold surface, while you lean in closer, your eyes narrowing with intensity.  
now, this should not be turning nayeon on—she’s going to blame it on her hangover and whatnot, and maybe the fact that whoever that guy was and whatever he did didn’t really satitate her—but it does.  
with barely an inch of space separating you, your height advantage allows you to tilt your head down, locking eyes with nayeon with a glare. the tension crackles between you like a firework, it’s thick and palpable, your look shows restrained anger. despite how furious you look, there's an unexpected allure to you, drawing nayeon in even as she senses the little reprimanding you’ll give her. 
“don’t give me that fucking attitude nayeon. you’re fucking unbelievable, you’re a fucking slut, you know?” 
“yeah?” she says, a smirk tugging at her pretty, plump lips.  
you feel your body tense as soon as you start to take in the proximity of the two of you. gulping lightly, you move yourself away just an inch, but nayeon pauses you, pinching your collar. 
“oh don’t get so timid now, you were just fuming earlier pretty.” she laughs. “keep going. this is cute, i like this. what did you call me again?” 
as nayeon's eyes flicker from yours to your lips and back again, the tension between you is like pushing down on a spring, and it’s about to pop back up any moment. sensing an opportunity, nayeon skillfully navigates her way out of the looming scolding, her allure becoming a potent weapon against your mood. she begins to weave her charm, coaxing a reluctant softening in your expression. despite your initial anger, you find yourself drawn to her, you can’t let yourself slip up, not now, not when she’s the reason you might fail your assessment. 
“you’re— you’re so... fucking irritating…” you mumble the last part of your sentence, voice getting smaller. you push yourself away from her and shake your head, trying to conceal your blush. nayeon giggles before going back to making her tea, the tension in the air like an invisible weight pressing down on you, and this whole morning might just completely flatten you down from how distracting it’ll be the whole day. 
nayeon’s relieved, at least you’re not scolding her while she dips her chamomile bag in and out her little mug of hot water. 
the day is filled with the events of the morning, with you struggling to finish various lines of code because the feeling of nayeon toying with your collar lingers, and nayeon trying to force the thought of you finally snapping in her head. 
seems like the two of you are trying to avoid the same thought, despite how badly you two want it. 
it's palpable that there’s something in the air that needs to be swatted away, and nayeon knows you’re too much of a coward to really do anything about it, so she’ll figure somethign out.  
one thing about im nayeon: she always gets her way, no questions asked, no matter what it takes. 
nayeon finds you on the couch typing away later that night, probably doing some homework. 
nayeon plops down next to you, intending to tease and push you over the edge. you turn your head after feeling the cushions under you shift, immediately grimacing once you see your roommate. 
“what do you want?” 
“what, i can’t sit next to my roommate?” nayeon questions, “i’m just going to watch tv, if you don’t like it you can leave.”  
“whore.” you mutter under your breath, quiet enough so she doesn’t catch what you say.  
your roommate lounges lazily on the couch and rests her head against the armrest. as she reclined, her hair spilled over, framing her face like a halo. nayeon's gaze wandered lazily around the room before settling on the tv, and with a languid movement, she turned to lay fully, bending her legs so they didn't intrude into your personal space. 
your jaw tensed, a visceral reaction to the sight before you. the light from the tv in the dimmed room accentuated the allure of nayeon's figure. you couldn't help but steal a glance, your attention momentarily torn away from your screen by the annoyingly captivating vision in your periphery. 
casual sweatpants adorned her figure, the looseness of the bottoms from brandy allowing for comfort yet teasingly hinting at the eye-catching curves of her terribly alluring figure beneath. the fit of her tank top—cropped just enough to expose a sliver of her toned midriff—effortlessly made your gaze linger. the fabric clung to her silhouette in all the right places, revealing the subtle contours that sent a subtle jolt through the room and your veins. you completely forgot about pretending to be irritated in that brief trance. 
the tank top, snug against her skin, revealed a gentle dip of her collarbone, an enticing invitation that you took note of. the image staying in your head even as your attention returned to your screen. a flush settled on your cheeks as you tried to focus again. the ambiance of the room, however, remained penetrated with the downplayed sensuality that lingered in the air. you huff lowly. she's winning whatever game this is without even trying. 
after typing at your laptop for a bit, you hear the faint sound of people talking in the background. you look up from the screen and see some show playing, then turn to see nayeon’s head turned toward the tv.  
shaking your head, you redirect your attention back to the assignment in front of you; the task is quite easy, but it’s insanely tedious and for some strange reason nayeon’s presence isn’t helping you. 
nayeon shifts on the couch and sits upright against the cushion, you don’t bat an eye. your roommate is sick of you being academic, she’s bored and wants your attention. needs it, maybe. 
“when’s that due?”  
without turning your head, you respond, “next week.” 
“why do it now?” 
“why do you care?” your tone is impatient. “and besides, it’s better to get things done earlier.” 
“nerd.” nayeon sighs. she scoots over and peers at your screen, putting her hand down beside you to prop herself up and when she leans over, her boob smushes against your arm a little.  
you glare at her. “aren’t you usually out? it’s a friday night.” 
she shrugs. “didn’t feel like it.” and after she scans the screen one more time, she leans away (to your dismay) and continues on with whatever drama she had been watching.  
the thought of her boob being smushed against you lingers, embarassingly it’s almost tattooed in your mind for the next half an hour. 
when you finish your assignment, that’s when you let out a big, hefty breath and close your laptop.  
nayeon's annoyingly melodic giggle dances in the air as you sink into the plush couch, surrendering to its embrace that eases the pain in your shoulders. after savoring your few seconds of tranquility, your thoughts drift to the comfort awaiting you in your bedroom, your bed, peace and quiet, being enveloped by the blanket.  
as you start to stand up, a delicate yet firm grip clings to your forearm, delaying your departure. nayeon's touch, like a sirens call, invites you to linger, gently coaxing you to stay a little longer. 
she bats her eyelashes at you. “stay here.”  
you brows knit. “why would i stay with you?”  
“watching shows alone is boring, and i know your ass isn’t going anywhere tonight.” 
you groan in response and decide to give in—you might as well lounge on the couch for a bit—earning a smug smile from your roommate. she unpauses her show and you allow yourself to ease into the cushion, then watch with her (against your will), only to immediately tense up at the scene that unravels before your eyes. 
two girls appear on screen, and they’re kissing each other.  
they’re close, kissing, and then fifteen seconds pass and boom—they’re eating each other’s mouths sloppily, groaning and everything, tongue and all. you shift in your seat when you feel a weird pulse down at your core. 
“y/n,” nayeon starts, “have you ever even kissed someone?” 
“of course i have.” you respond, crossing your arms.  
nayeon turns her head in surprise and tilts her head. “seriously?” 
“yes, is it that surprising?” 
“well, you’re always cooped up in the house and whatnot… didn’t think you had any game.” 
“i hooked up with someone last month for your information. i'm not a homebody.” 
“yeah? sure, you did.” she laughs, shaking her head. you roll your eyes at her. 
“fuck you.” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the tv and watching the two girls undress each other. “do you always watch shit like this?” 
“why, does it turn you on or something?” nayeon asks, shifting closer to you. a lump forms in your throat. 
you shoot a quick glare at her and lie, “no.” 
nayeon laughs in amusement after pink dusts your cheeks. “you seem pretty flustered baby.” 
what the fuck? 
as you meet her gaze, a wave of surprise washes over you, mirroring the hunger that burns in her eyes. nayeon's laughter tumbles from her lips, enchanting and playful, as she places her hand delicately on the couch. leaning towards you, she ignites a spark that makes your heart skip a beat. feeling a sudden urge to be closer, you subtly shift in your seat, captivated by the exhilarating simplicity of the moment and giving into nayeon’s intentions. 
“i don’t believe you.” she says. 
“what?” 
“you’ve never kissed someone, hell, like you could even fuck someone.” 
“excuse me?” 
she just laughs at the mix of emotions coming from you; your cheeks are dusted pink, but your tone and expression displays that regular irritated look of yours. 
then she bites the corner of her lip, finally easing into the reason she even bothered you in the first place. she leans a little closer, lips hovering near your ear lobe, and giggles again. 
“how about you prove that you’ve fucked someone, hm?” nayeon suggests, raising her brows. “that you even can.” 
your breath trembles slightly, you’re stiff in your place. 
“if it’ll shut you up then... fine.” 
she clicks her tongue, then pulls away from your ear. now she’s looking at you with a shit eating grin, you want to wipe it off her face. 
the air stilled, your breath shook, and nayeon’s hand inches to your forearm. her other hand grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you in and your lips meet in the middle. 
she tastes like cherry, well, her lip gloss does. 
your hand finds its way to the back of her neck, pushing her deeper into you so your lips can hungrily slide and suck and gosh, everything, all of the above, both a and c, you name it. 
the last thing you had on your mind for the friday night was kissing your roommate aggressively. initially, you were just going to finish the assignment and take a nap or something, but this? it’s much better than what you had planned originally. 
nayeon practically takes your breath away after simply kissing you, just the way your lips lock makes you greedy. you groan accidentally, embarassed until you have nayeon groaning into you too, even louder for that matter. 
you pull away for a brief moment, voice a little shaky and out of breath. “is this why you bothered me? are you that horny that you wanted me to fuck you?” 
“oh shut up, it’s not like you’re against it.” nayeon’s right, you’re not. not in the slightest. 
“fuck you” is uttered from your lips before you crash your lips against her again, taking the air from her lungs again. 
the kissing quickly escalates and your tongues are in each other’s mouths. you’re both unashamedly moaning and groaning into each other carelessly, it’s funny how quickly everything escalated within seconds, the boundaries between whatever you two had dissolved like sugar in boiling water. you shift yourselves over so that nayeon is under you, both your knees on either side of her legs. you reach over for the remote to pause the two girls who were mirroring the two of you—well, the two of you started going at it after they did so maybe it was the two of you mirroring them. 
each subsequent kiss felt as electrifying as the crackle of sparks dancing in a bonfire. the more nayeon deepened the kiss the more it drove you crazy, irrationally enough to continue kissing her and slip your hands under her shirt. 
nayeon sighs blissfully as you kiss down her neck, her fingers tangle with your hair while she claws at it aggressively, and still, the pain from her grabbing your hair only turns you on more. 
“fuck,” she groans when you suck on her neck, sinking her nails into your tricep. 
“slut.” you mutter, smirking against her. “so easy to rile up.” 
unashamedly, nayeon begs and begs for you until you’re biting down on her skin, repeatedly uttering your name until you’re leaving marks that’ll have her friends wondering who ruined her this time—and this time, it’s not some person she’s run into at the bar while tipsy. 
still, she could get drunk just off of you. 
you start to undress her, starting with her top and taking a moment to gaze at her undeniably alluring figure. strands of hair just barely stick to her forehead as she gazes at you breathlessly with eyes full of lust. she moves her slender fingers to work at the edge of your shirt, urging you to take that stupid t-shirt you have on off so she can get a sight of your surprisingly exciting figure. maybe she’ll get a better, longer view of what she had seen that night she walked in on you changing. 
“fuck, why have you been hiding this?” she mutters, sliding her hand down your side. “god you fucking bitch.” 
“if i didn’t you’d be all over me, you fucking horny mess.” you spit back harshly, but the way you moan when nayeon latches her lips onto your neck completely rids of that fake, irritated tone of yours.  
nayeon ends up on top of you in a matter of seconds, thenyou’re groping her ass shamelessly as you two devour each other’s mouths again. hands tug at whatever else covers your bodies until it’s just the two of you skin to skin. everything that had just happened in the span of ten minutes was for sure ten times better than whatever else had been going on in the movie. 
you can feel her grinding desperately against your thigh as you kiss her, feeling the moisture from her needy cunt that dampens your once-dry upper leg. you palm her breasts blindly and feel her gasp against you, and then nayeon forgets how to breath when you press your thigh up and against her, adding more stimulus. 
she moans frustratedly, the feeling of just your thigh against her throbbing pussy is far from what she needs. so, she’s putting her hand on the middle of your chest and pushing you down to lay flat on your back. she bites her lip blatantly before lifting her hips away from your skin. 
you furrow your brows in confusion and begin, “what are you—” 
“shut up,” she grunts, shoving one hand in your head and gripping your hair so rough that you whimper. she shifts over so that her pussy is directly above your mouth and orders: “just eat, bitch.” 
this is something you can’t argue with her about, and fuck you’re hungry.  
there’s a meal waiting for you that you’ve been craving, you can’t just lay there and starve. 
eagerly, you lift your head up a bit to meet the aching in between her legs; she’s so wet and you’re definitely teasing her about this later—but who knows how long it will take until it’s later. 
she moans louder than ever and it surprises the both of you, it only leaves you wanting more of her, wanting to hear her when she’s at her limit. your nails sink into the flesh of her thigh as you devour ravenously, taking note of what makes her twitch more and what earns lewder noises. what earns noises that turn you on more than ever. 
it doesn’t surprise you how shameless she is during sex—clearly, she isn’t ashamed of seducing her roommate—the way she rides your face so desperately gives you enough to know how she is. 
nayeon likes when you suck on her clit, she grips your hair tighter with each “pop” sound that’s made after you release the suction. she’s easy to read, her cunt is easy to adjust to. 
“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” nayeon moans, leaning back little while she continues to ride, head tilted back and face almost parallel to the ceiling. “god-- fuck, oh my—shit, keep going,” 
you can see her tits from your view, nipples all perked up while you grip onto her thighs tighter, feeling her shake in your grasp.  
nayeon's like an alarm clock, ticking and ticking away until the alarm rings, her cry echoing through the room, hand gripping at your hair tighter than ever as her head falls back. you continue to savor her arousal even after she came, earning little whines and whispers of your name. 
“oh, y/n, just like that...”  
you're doing all the work now, which only helps with your aversion towards her, but still, you’ve made her moan, cry—all of the above, so at least there’s something to use against her. 
and then she lifts herself off of you, letting your head rest back against the seat of the couch so you can catch your breath.  
when she looks down, all she can make out through fuzzy vision and overwhelmed senses is the puff of your lips, hooded eyes, and fucked up hair; everything about the sight of you is a product of her desires, a fantasy that’s been lingering in her mind now come true. 
“slut,” you mutter, almost breathlessly. “you’re really loud, you know.”  
“fuck you.” 
“already did.” you retort, giggling. “let’s go for another.” 
“oh so now look who’s a horny mess.” nayeon responds, moving over to sit on your lap. 
you sit up, holding yourself up with your hands placed behind you. “you just never shut up, do you?” 
nayeon smiles before tracing her finger along your skin. “do you me want to?” 
you look at her amusingly before shifting positions so she’s laying down flat on her back, with you hovering above. the two of you kiss again, nayeon savoring a the traces of arousal off you, a muffled hum of delight vibrating against your locked lips. 
she pulls away, thumbing your nipple and making you groan surprisingly. you pull away to glare at her. 
nayeon laughs, “wow, you’re so--” 
you cut her off by shoving your ring and middle finger in her mouth, she almost gags, but the way she sucks obediently is enough to tell you that she’s enjoying this. 
“you just never shut up,”  
in response, she moans with your fingers still in your mouth, right before you pull them out, skin coated with her saliva. 
you bring your fingers down to her cunt, teasing her folds. 
“let’s change that.” 
802 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 1 month
Note
It is I, person who asked about the bad car crash one. I have read the one you said! And while yes I think the car crash you described is bad I was wondering if you could do one that's... Worse-? Idk 😅 if not I totally understand lmao.
No I think I get you, thanks for requesting and hope you like it!
cw: car accident, concussion, mention of blood, I already know this is not very accurate, but I did not have it in me to do all the research when I wrote this. Sorry and hope it doesn’t hinder your reading experience </3
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
Your own breaths are the loudest sound, which can’t be right. Surely there should be alarms, or screaming, or something. Up until a second ago, the screeching of tires and metal was loud enough to deafen you. 
Your car door squeaks brokenly, a sad echo of the racket from before. The air around you shifts as it comes open, and a moment later there are cold fingers pressing into your jaw. 
You make a low whining sound. “Hey,” you complain. Your lips move oddly, murmuring where you mean to speak. 
“Hi,” a voice behind you replies smoothly. “I’m Sirius, I’m with NHS. Is your neck or back hurting at all, gorgeous?” 
“No. You’re cold.” 
“Lovely. This is my friend Remus, he’s going to push on your hands.” 
A head appears in front of you, upside down and shooting an exasperated look towards the disembodied voice. You don’t understand how these people are moving around so quickly, without you noticing them coming. 
“Hello.” The other man’s—Remus’—gaze softens as he meets your eyes. “Can you tell me if you feel this?” He prods at your hand. 
“Yeah,” you breathe. Your heart is starting to move in your chest, thudding against your ribs like it wants to hurt you. 
“Alright. Can you try pushing up on my hands, please?”
You do. He nods approvingly, giving you a little smile. 
“Good girl. We’re good, Sirius.” 
The cold hands release your face, and you breathe a sigh of relief. It makes your chest ache dully. 
“Beautiful. We ready to move?” 
“Yup.” That’s a third voice, distinct from the others and somewhere you can’t see it. “We’re all set.” 
“Let me just—” Remus’ hands come up around your waist and back, his grip firm, near to bruising. “Okay, I’ve got her. We’re going to unbuckle you and lift you out, okay? Just stay nice and still for us.” 
You’re confused as to what he means, but apparently your silence is consent enough. You feel the buckle of your seatbelt click, and then you’re falling up, Remus’ hold tightening further as he stops your ascent to lift you sideways. 
It’s not until you’re out of the car that you realize you were upside down. Your head feels better, though not by much, and the sun glares at you like it’s punishing you for a wrong you don’t remember having committed. Your arm, suddenly and to your horrified surprise, is in agony. 
A pitchy scraping sound tears from your throat, what would have been a scream if you had the air for one. 
“Here we go, just—yeah—” the third voice speaks as something comes up under your back. “There we are. It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re fine.” 
“We’ll get you on pain meds in just a second, doll,” Sirius promises. Someone adjusts your legs so they’re both on the cot, careful of your searing arm, and then you’re moving, the sky shifting above you until you’re looking up at a gray ceiling instead. Time is an odd, fluid thing, marked only by actions and various pains. 
“When did you get here?” you mutter, to no one in particular. 
The third voice is the one to answer you. It’s accompanied by a thick pair of glasses and a sweet face, eyes flickering between you and some equipment he’s messing with. “Just a few minutes ago.” 
“I don’t…I didn’t hear the sirens.” 
He smiles like you’re funny. “Yeah, I think you might’ve been unconscious for that part.” 
You wrack your brain. You don’t remember falling asleep. Only the screeching on the road and then being in your car. Then again, you feel half as though you could be dreaming right now. 
Something sharp bites into your hand. You whimper, the pain small but only adding to every other hurt that’s already far over your threshold. 
“I know,” Sirius shushes you, sticking something to your hand. “I know, babe, but this is going to help soon. You’ll see.” 
“So far I’ve got a concussion, open fracture of the wrist, several lacerations to the face and chest, and bruising around the knees.” Remus’ voice is an odd combination of soft and businesslike. You have a creeping sensation he’s talking about you. “Am I missing anything?” 
“Possible bruising around the chest,” Sirius says. “She was breathing funny earlier.” 
“Right. Hey, love,” Remus voice gentles as he addresses you, “I’m going to move your shirt down to see if your chest is hurt, alright? I’ll be careful, it won’t take long.” 
“Okay,” you manage weakly. 
“Thank you.” He uses both hands to stretch the collar of your shirt, tutting quietly to himself at whatever he sees. He lifts a stethoscope from around his neck, rubbing the metal on his hand for a moment before setting it to your chest. 
You don’t know what he’s listening for, but you’re distracted when the third paramedic—the one with the glasses—starts running what feels like a wet wipe over your forehead. 
“Just cleaning you up a bit,” he says brightly. “Figure we ought to have you looking your best for whoever ends up stitching you up, yeah?” 
“James.” Sirius’ tone is somewhere between chiding and joking and fond, an entanglement of meanings you quite can’t wrap your pounding head around. “Don’t talk like she’s not already stunning. You can hardly improve upon perfection.” 
“Too true,” the other boy agrees readily. 
“Take a breath in for me, please,” says Remus, seemingly ignoring the other two and seemingly also used to doing so. “Just as deep as you can.” 
You try. You do your best, and as your lungs expand the dull ache worsens and worsens until a sharp pain pierces your middle. The air whooshes out of you in a dry sob. 
The stethoscope leaves your skin, and Remus fixes your shirt collar, putting it back in place. Your chest radiates a terrible, throbbing hurt. 
“It’s okay,” James says. His finger brushes your cheek, swiping at wetness you didn’t realize was there. “Oh, honey, it’s okay.” 
“At least a couple of broken ribs,” you hear Remus mutter to the others. Somehow, impossibly, it makes the pain worsen. 
“What’s happening?” you choke out. 
“You’re in an ambulance,” James tells you kindly. “You were in a car accident, and I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but we’re here to take care of you. We’re going to make sure you’re okay, and then get you to the hospital so they can finish fixing you up. You’ll be alright.” 
The explanation takes you a while to process, but even then your tears don’t seem to want to slow. Your chest pangs with each hitch in your breathing. Eventually Sirius starts talking you through taking slower breaths, trying to calm you down. 
Someone wipes at your face with a small square. It stings, and it comes away light red with your blood and tears. 
“I know it’s scary,” Remus murmurs, “but you’ve already done so, so well. We only have to splint your arm so it doesn’t move and clean some of your bigger cuts, and then we can go to the hospital. Can you let us do that, please? Will you be okay?” 
You take in a ragged breath. “Yeah,” you reply. 
“There we are.” James takes your head between his hands. Something about his grip reassures you. He touches his lips to your forehead, like it’s natural, like it’s nothing. “You’ve got this, sweetheart. Just need you to be brave for us a little while longer.”
842 notes · View notes
mickyschumacher · 9 months
Text
𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒  .ೃ࿐
Tumblr media
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they say you should learn something new every day. in oscar's case, he learns he should really read the fine prints. or in which oscar's secret santa gift comes into use. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), protected sex (for the 1st time ever here) childhood lovers (bc oscar IS this trope), face sitting/riding + consent, p in v, teasing, oral sex, mutual orgasms, (over)consumption of aphrodisiacs, mentions of spiders :(
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: as usual, proofread-ish. for the majority who thought aphrodisiacs and oscar sounded good... hope you like it! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Summer cleaning. You did it every January with Oscar when he came back home to Australia. The reasons you did it? Well, it gave you some peace and the pure free time you had with Oscar was limited. It didn't sound that fun but every year, you managed to make the most of it by reminiscing all the old memories you made, the past year or long ago. The bonus side: you kept things clean!
Last January you had both found an old scrapbook of Oscar and you that you had poorly made with the glue sticks that bare stuck no matter how much you slathered onto the paper, various croppings of coloured paper, loose glitter that hung on by a thread, and the cheapest driest markers you had found (you both thought you took them from primary school).
As horrifically it was made, it was sweet, sending you back down memory lane. The part that made the best was the secret confession in the back of it Oscar had written down with his god-awful six-year-old handwriting. Upon seeing 'really' spelt 'rallllly' and 'pretty' as 'pritty', it was safe to say, Oscar rushed to put the book back as quickly as you found it.
"Babe... what happen to cleaning?" Oscar queried, hand resting on the top of step ladder with raised brows as he looked down at you on the floor. He was moving around the books you stored at the top shelf of
You were sprawled on the floor, relishing the cool breeze the fan brought you. "It's 30 degrees, bro. What do you want me to do? I'm tired. The air outside is warm. It's gross," You complained, feeling your skin stick to the floorboards.
Oscar narrowed his eyes at your words, taking careful steps down the ladder now. "First of all, don't ever call me 'bro' again. Because that's fucking gross," He told you, taking your hand and pulling you up from the floor. "Secondly, you are sugar crashing. We probably should've had lunch an hour or so ago."
You pouted at the sound of sugar, slumping against Oscar's shoulder. "Why are we doing this?" You groaned.
Oscar chuckled, holding you tighter against him. "We're doing this so you don't call me in a few weeks and scream about spiders popping up everywhere."
You curled your lip in annoyance, pushing yourself off of him. "You suck," You retorted, walking over to your fridge. You took a moment to savour the cold air radiating from it as you opened the door before searching for something cold to eat. Your heart deflated at the mostly empty fridge. You hadn't been able to go shopping because everyone was either closed or had close early. You didn't even have any ice cream! The sheer audacity...
Your eyes flickered over your options before a red box caught your eye. You gasped, taking out the container and dangling it in front of Oscar. "We still need to finish these!"
Oscar turned his head towards you, recognising the red box quickly. It was part of the pack of sweets Daniel had given him for Secret Santa last year. To be honest, Oscar didn't have that much of sweet tooth. At least, he had nothing on you. He knew the moment he got it, it was going into his suitcase with prayers that it didn't melt in the Oceanic heat during transit.
While spending Christmas with your families, you, his sisters, and Oscar (mostly you) had taken the liberty to consume most of the candy. By the time you had eaten all the candy canes and small bits, the sight of the mere red box of chocolates made all of you feel sick. So you put it inside your fridge, saving it for some other desperate time. And said desperate time had soon come around in early January during your summer cleaning.
While Oscar would've preferred actual food to eat, he too was at his wits ends. When he nodded, he watched you excitedly come towards him as if you were preparing for your sugar rush.
You sat next to him, knee-to-knee. Opening the box without thinking too much, you both began eating the variety of chocolates. They were in various shades of brown and white, topped of with edible glitter or other candy. You were more than halfway through the box before you wondered what the different flavours were. You popped another into your mouth before closing the box to turn to it's back.
Raspberry... hazelnut... cinnamon.... maca root... epimedium?
Wait what?
"Oh fuck." You heard Oscar whisper.
You raised a brow, lowering the box, still finishing the piece in your mouth. "What's wrong?"
Oscar winced, sucking in a sharp breath before turning the front of the box to you, index finger pointing at the fine print underneath the brand's name.
APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES.
Effects dependent on the amount eaten and the person. Eat at your own risk.
Your eyes widened, hand almost dropping the box. "Oscar... there's like three left."
Oscar's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. He pondered the gift. No wonder Daniel was smiling so weirdly at him after he received his gift. That plus his incessant texting, asking whether he had finished all the candy. Shit...
A nervous laugh fell from Oscar's lips as his ears turned red. "I mean... it won't work, right? Surely... this is a scam... a gimmick?"
Your mouth was dry. "Let's check online, hmm?" You told him, taking out your phone. Oscar shuffled closer next you, eyeing the screen cautiously. Typing the product name into the search bar, you felt your cheeks become hot once the results came pouring in.
The best chocolates for sex in 2023!
Horny chocolates for horny lovers. See our favourites!
Viral aphrodisiac chocolates reviewed to be really good.
You pressed your lips, clicking on the last link. Your eyes skimmed the page. You could hear Oscar read the reviews, voice getting louder with every passing second. "Was unsure but no regrets... Bedroom was on fire.. more than... t-three rounds?! Be careful how many you consume... effects stronger with more consumption.... lasts up to three hours?!"
You laughed awkwardly. "S-Surely not. I'm mean not that it's terrible but we still have cleaning to do. I'm sure these are fake reviews... you know like to disguise drop shipping." It was a poor excuse slipping from the likes of your mouth but it was an excuse nonetheless.
Oscar nodded slowly. "Right... cleaning! Yes, that's... that's it! We should probably do that," He told you taking the box out of your hands and putting it to the side.
You and Oscar weren't necessarily awkward or shy about sex. You communicated perfectly well. But the concept of eating aphrodisiac chocolates that were given by his co-worker much less a fellow Australian definitely sent the both of you down the lane of uncertainty.
To be honest, you weren't feeling anything anyways... yet.
Together, the both of you had managed to get all the cleaning done. The thought of the chocolates were long gone after you had multiple Daddy Long Legs come out of the attic, half scaring you to death and sending Oscar into a fit of laughter (although he wouldn't admit he was terrified for a brief second).
Having enough and thrilled you were finished, you were both down to take a nap in your bedroom with all the doors closed and the aircon on blast.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Your nap was going great. It was so good you were sure the red lines of your sheets were embedded into your skin. You were dreaming... it was hot and sticky, it was in the shower for a second and the beach the next and Oscar's hands were all over you.
But all goods things must come to an end.
Especially if it means waking up in Oscar's arms, ass pressed against his hard cock and his hips rutting against you.
With sleepy eyes, you tilted your head to capture a glimpse of Oscar who looked wide awake with a sheen of sweat covering his face. His arms around you tightened when he met your eyes. You furrowed your brows. "Os.. did you not sleep?"
A strained sigh fell from his lips, releasing his hot breath onto your shoulder. "How could I? You were moaning my name and these fucking chocolates are killing me here. God, you sounded so good, baby," Oscar whispered, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.
Your eyes closed naturally at his touch. You were sure you were already wet from the dream but the tingling between your thighs was intensifying. "Oscar," You softly whined.
His hips jerked against you, making you both moan quietly. "I need you, sweetheart. Let me eat you out... please," He pleaded, feeling his cock impossibly tighten.
Clenching your thighs together, you nodded frantically. At your notion, you watched Oscar peel himself away from you. You couldn't hide the shock on your face when you discovered he had already removed his pants long ago. He had been grinding into your ass naked. His cock stood straight, skimming the surface of his lower stomach. It looked different. Angrier... harder... not necessarily bigger but it stood as if it was ready to ruin you.
Oscar eagerly spread your legs with both of his hands, cursing when he saw the patch of wet darkness on your shorts. Carefully, he took away your short, leaving in your panties which were fully damp and clinging to every possible fold of yours. "Shit," He muttered, fingers gingerly pulling the front of your underwear so it was tightly pressed against your pussy.
In his peripheral, he could see your legs squirm, getting antsy for his touch. If he was being honest, Oscar could barely think straight. All this aphrodisiac in his system had sent him overdrive. He couldn't tell what he wanted to do first. Whether he should rub his cock against you so the both of you came like two virgin teenagers going at it for the first time... if he should just fuck you to oblivion or whether he should eat you and find every crevice till you were shaking against him and begging for more..
"Ride my face," Oscar simply stated, peeling away your underwear to reveal your bare pussy. He clenched his jaw, restraining himself from taking you right then and there.
You gasped at the intrusion of cold air on your hot folds. Oscar had said something... what was it again? "R...Ride your face?" You shakily whispered. "A-Are you sure? I... don't you need to breathe?"
In any other moment, Oscar would've laughed lightly. But his need for you was far too strong. He nodded, moving to the side so he laid on his back. "Baby, I've never been so sure of something in my life. Trust me. I've got you," He assured, lust thick with his promise.
You sucked in a sharp breath, unable to mull over the proposition because your answer was already clear by the way your pussy was clenching around nothing and your arousal had increased ten-fold. You moved over Oscar's body, hovering over his face. His hot breath sent a shudder up your spine while his hands naturally placed themselves on your hips, slowly pulling you down, legs on either side of his face.
A groan slipped out of his lips. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating Oscar. He could've sworn that he was fucking pussy-drunk.
Your mouth fell open upon feeling his nose against your clit and his warm tongue flat against your folds. "Oh, fuck," You moaned, thighs tensing around Oscar's face.
Oscar lapped at your juices, slurping all he could while he explored every crevice of your folds. His head jutted against your legs, nose sloppily knocking against your throbbing clit.
Your hands flew to his brown locks, tugging at the sheer pleasure running through your body right now. Any tension or worries you had about suffocating Oscar had melted away, hips already leaning in to put as much of your weight on his face as one could humanely allow, rocking your hips to get even more friction.
His tongue dragged up your folds, finding your swollen bundle of nerves as he came up for air. Oscar just couldn't help it. The urge to get a taste of you shuddering against him was overwhelming. But as he sucked your clit gently, his brown eyes of his flickered up to your face and what a sight it was.
You had completely lost yourself.
Eyes clamped shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, sweat littering the surface of your skin, nipples hard against your shirt... fuck. If he knew you would feel and look this good, he would've made you ride his face ages ago.
Despite losing your senses, your body still was restraining from putting your full weight on him. Oscar could feel it as you tried to lift yourself in the attempt of self-control, making him chase for your pussy. But the rise of your hips came one too many times and Oscar had enough, fingers tightening around your thighs with an ironclad grip, holding you close to him.
You squirmed against his hold. All those chocolates... you had both eaten them because you were hungry. But Oscar had only become more starved and thirsty as he drank you as though he was dehydrated. You were so wet that his tongue was practically swimming between each fold.
Hips rutting against his face, your head fell back as his lips moved back to your clit, suctioning the bundle of nerves while stars began to invade your vision. You had barely said anything, so lost in the pleasure, forgetting to praise his art. It was like your brain was so dazed that it wouldn't sync up to your mouth, only allowing for your whimpers and moans to join the lewd slurping of Oscar's.
You couldn't care anymore. The stars were so close... you let your full weight rest on Oscar, making him grin against your heated cunt. Your grip on his hair tightened, the coil in your stomach snapping as his movements became sloppy, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth.
Your body is trembling against his face, convulsing around his tongue while the only thing you can manage to let out is a series of broken moans and obscenities under your breath.
Oscar feels you fall limp, muscles tired from tensing and exerting more energy than usual. He slowly lifted you off of him, shifting you next to him as both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. His head fell against the pillow. "I could do that till I die."
You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth, nestling into the pillow. You let out a soft laugh but it slowly died down once the seriousness of Oscar's tone finally registered. Your eyes travelled down his cock, standing angrier than ever, leaking with pre-cum. From what you were seeing, Oscar must've been in pain.
You shifted closer to Oscar, sweaty skin sticking to his own. You peeled off your shirt, sighing at the cold air skimming your breasts. Without a second thought, Oscar's hands were on them, groping and fondling them. Back arching, you fell closer to his touch, pushing yourself into him.
He was distracting you.
"Oscar," You whimpered at the squeeze of your nipple in response. "Fuck me."
Oscar's hands paused, eyes flickering to you. His breathing had gotten quiet all of a sudden while his eyes darkened. "How?" He asked. "H-How do you want me to fuck you?" His voice cracked slightly with the heavy strain of lust–well, partly the aphrodisiacs-weighing it down.
You pulled yourself away from him, sprawling yourself comfortably on the bed. "However you want."
"Fuck," Oscar groaned, eyes closing at your words before pushing himself up to remove his shirt. He moved to hover his body over you. His hooded eyes flickered over you, full with admiration. You looked like a hot mess. His mess... that he made. You were going to kill him.
His brain must of been short circuiting, however. He blinked blankly at you. "Shit, I don't have a–"
You interrupted him by reaching under your pillow, dangling the foil-wrapped packet in his face. Oscar slowly took what he was looking for from your hands, eyeing you with furrowed brows. "You just keep condoms under your pillow now?"
The sudden comment made you break into laughter, making Oscar's struggling to keep his heart at bay. You nodded your head, quietening down. "Yes, specifically for this occasion."
"When a friend gives me sex chocolates?" Oscar raised a brow, voice full of ridicule.
"Yep! Precisely."
Oscar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. You were bad at joking but to him, you were the world's best comedian. He tore the wrapping, hissing at the sudden contact as he rolled the condom onto his shaft. He blew a deep breath from his lips, sweat-ridden hair doing little to move out of his face.
His eyes fell to your still swollen pussy... so enticing... "I don't think I'll last long," Oscar admitted with a grave mumble, a flush of red scattering across his neck.
You smiled softly. "It's okay. You already gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life... you can fuck me till you can't cum anymore."
Oscar's cock twitched against his stomach. He sure liked the sound of that.
His hands darted out to roam your body, embracing the feel of every curve or bump he could get his hands on. He heard your sharp inhale as his fingers danced around your v-line. Me too, he thought to himself.
Oscar couldn't take it anymore. He was practically blue-balling himself at this point. He lowered himself over you, feeling your hot breath envelope him. His cock slowly pressed against your folds, making both of you pause at the warm feeling tingling up your spines. "Shit," he groaned, watching your engorged folds try to grip any bit of his cock. "You're seriously going to kill me."
"A girl's gotta try," You teased, breaking into a small whimper as Oscar dragged the tip of his throbbing cock to your hole, skimming your clit along the way.
Your mouth fell open upon feeling Oscar pushing his hips into you. His cock entered your warm folds, stretching the tight walls of your soaked cunt. Your head lolled back into the softness of the pillows while a high-pitched whimper slipped past your lips.
Oscar grunted as he fully unsheathed his cock, bottoming out as much as he could. The feel of your pussy clenching around him with a vice-like grip was sending over him already. He could feel every part of you, hips flushed with yours while the tip of his cock nudged your cervix.
He began with shallow thrusts, rocking his hips against yours. "Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Oscar swore, eyes fluttering shut momentarily.
You moaned in response, savouring every inch of his cock that came in and out of you. "You fill up so well," You praised, hand travelling to his own to give him an affirming squeeze.
Oscar missed your lips. It felt like he hadn't touched them in a long time even though he had probably spent over half the morning with them today. Sloppily, his lips travelled across your jaw and met your soft pillowy ones. He could hear your muffled moans in the kiss as he rutted into you. Shit...
"Oscar," You whispered with a high mewl upon feeling his fingers roll your nipple in between them. You were going to kill him? More like he was going to kill you.
But you weren't lying. His cock was indeed filling you so well, having you clench around him like there was no tomorrow. You felt so... full... those fucking chocolates...
Speaking of which... Oscar was over these 'aphrodisiac chocolates' or whatever the hell they were. They were making him insane. Every moment he ever spent with you, whether it was on a date or in bed, he always felt like he was being driven insane (in the nicest possible way, of course). But these chocolates... it felt like he was aware of everything. Every reaction... every part of him was on fire... everything was amplified... ten-fold, no, a hundred.
You were both on the crest of your climaxes. Oscar could tell by the way you were gripping him, the sudden reduction of your words, and the dazed look in your eyes. And you could tell by the stutter of his hips and the twitch of his cock.
Oscar bent his head down towards your legs, spitting directly onto your bundle of nerves. Fuck, now your hips were stuttering as well, the familiar feeling of the coil in your lower abdomen unravelling. "Oscar, fuck, I'm going to–"
Oscar doesn't even have the decency to let you finish your sentence, hand rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, hips increasing it's pace, sending you flying into your second orgasm.
"Oh, shit, shit, that's it, baby," Oscar encouraged, fighting to keep his eyes open as the waves of pleasure began drowning him. You were just squeezing his cock so much. Your mouth is wide open as Oscar's hips faltered against yours. He rushed to take his cock out, hand jerking off the engorged shaft to spill every single drop of his hot white cum onto your stomach.
For a moment, it felt like the effects of the chocolates had worn off as Oscar collapsed on top of you without a single thought going through his mind. His chest heavily rose up and down, your chin nuzzling into his collarbone while he soothingly patted your head.
You both laid like that for over ten minutes, saying nothing, just revelling in each other's presence, naked.
"I think we're going to have to thank Daniel," You joked, finally regaining your words.
"Later," Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. "Like three hours later."
You furrowed your brows, looking up at Oscar, only for him to be looking down. Following his gaze, your eyes honed in on the object capturing both of your attention.
"Oh..."
𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
3K notes · View notes
angelbwrry · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐼𝒩𝒦𝐸𝒟—toji z.
in which your tattoo artist asks for your number.
mature content ahead,18+
word count:5k
•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•
You had to be utterly deranged. You’d come to the conclusion that you’d finally lost your marbles. Here you were, on some random strip in the heart of bustling New Orleans, letting your best friend, Min, cajole you into getting a tattoo. You’re deathly afraid of needles, and the mere thought of one poking and prodding into your skin sends a wave of nausea crashing over you like a golden tidal wave.
Yet, the persistent voice in the recesses of your mind urged you on. You blamed it on those damnably colorful cocktails you’d imbibed at the bar.But how could you forgo alcohol tonight? The semester had just ended, and after countless nights of crying and tearing at your hair over medical terms you couldn’t pronounce, while guzzling energy drinks like they were lifelines, you were finally done.
Back to the point, tattoos. You always thought tattoos were hot on other people but could never muster the courage to get one yourself. But tonight, you felt brave, daring even. Before your mind even realized what you were doing, you were nodding your head, an excited squeal filling the chilly air as Min did a happy dance.
Sucking in a deep breath, you pushed open the large wooden door and stepped inside. The sound of the bell above the door signaled your entrance. The interior of the shop was cozy and inviting, walls adorned with various tattoo designs and artwork. The scent of antiseptic mixed with a hint of incense created an oddly comforting atmosphere.
“Welcome, ladies! I’m Toji. Welcome to Ink and Needle.” A deep voice greeted, and you averted your eyes from the wall to the man. He was undeniably cute. Long raven hair touched his shoulders, giving him a rugged but clean look. His smile was bright and wide, a subtle dimple indenting his cheek, and your stomach flipped.There was a jagged cut on his lips and you pondered its backstory.
His eyes were a mesmerizing grey, holding your gaze intensely. You could feel your neck warming in embarrassment as you realized you were staring like a creep. His olive skin was extremely clear,he wore a long-sleeved black compression shirt that hugged his muscles just right, paired with dark denim jeans and a pair of scuffed-up red Converses.
The combination was effortlessly stylish and made him even more attractive to you. He was so close that his scent was practically smothering, a hint of spice and sweet.
He was talking, but you were completely zoned out, fascinated by the way his sharp jaw tensed with each word. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to how good his head game probably was. You shook your head.
Perv much.
“Hi,” you sheepishly mustered out.
Min grabbed your shoulders, a grin plastered on her face. "Yeah, hi Toji, my friend here is looking to get her first tattoo. The sign outside says you take walk-ins?"
Toji smiled, scratching at his eyebrow piercing before folding his arms over his chest. "Yeah, what were you contemplating getting?" He steps closer as you fish your phone from your pocket. You can't help but hitch a breath at this; the height difference between him and you is stark.
"I was thinking about this, but a bit smaller," you say, biting the inside of your cheek as he examines the picture. He nods, "Where were you thinking about getting it?" he questions.
"Oh, my hip."
"Awesome, I'll just need you to sign a consent form and provide some form of ID."
You nod, rummaging through your purse and pulling out your ID. He takes your ID and hands you a clipboard. You skim over the rules and aftercare steps before initialing the bottom. He steps behind the counter and types something on the desktop before he's back at your side. He collects the clipboard and hands back your ID, a nervous "thanks" leaving your lips.
"You can have a seat over there; I'll get my things and we can get started," Toji motions over to a tattoo station.
"Good luck!" Min giggles. You turn and quirk an eyebrow at her.
"You're not staying?"
"I'm gonna go grab some pizza from that parlor down the street. Want me to bring you back something?" she asks. You frown and cross your arms over your chest. Your first ever tattoo that she had convinced you to get, and she wouldn't even be here to witness it. So much for squeezing her hand.
“Slice of pepperoni topped with extra cheese. Please hurry back," you huff out, watching her nod before spinning on her heels. The chime of the doorbell sounding like your own undoing.
Fuck, why did you let her convince you to do this.
You sink into the plush black chair, your heart thundering against your chest in fervent anticipation. God, you prayed you wouldn't vomit on this man. Toji's busy gathering his equipment, and your heart skips a beat as the hum of the tattoo machine reverberates through the air.
"So, you're a uni student?" Toji inquires, noticing your palpable anxiety. You're sweating, despite the tattoo shop being a cool seventy degrees, your leg bouncing with nervous energy.
"Yeah, I'm a sophomore," you respond, casting a glance his way. "What about you? How did you get into tattooing?"
A smile tugs at his pink lips as he scoots his seat closer to you. You try not to let the awkwardness seep in as you lie there on the chair, your backside practically in his face. Regret starts to creep in about your Y2K fashion choice—low-rise jeans with a thong and a cropped pink shirt. You try not to dwell on it too much, lest you melt into a puddle of embarrassment.
“Well,” Toji begins, his eyes catching a glimpse of your pink lace underwear. He'd be lying if he said his dick didn't twitch in his pants. He couldn’t help but notice how incredibly soft your brown skin looked, and he had to constantly remind himself to keep his touch professional.
It was a struggle, especially when he noticed the gentle curves of your body and the way you smelled—sweet, warm, and utterly intoxicating. Every time he leaned in to sketch a different part of the design, your scent filled his senses, making it hard to concentrate.
“I’ve always loved art, and tattooing seemed like a natural extension of that. Plus, I enjoy the idea of creating something permanent and meaningful to someone.”
You flinch slightly when the needle makes contact with your flesh. As it works on your brown skin, you relax; it’s not as bad as you imagined, kind of like an intense mosquito bite. As Toji works, you can feel yourself relaxing more and more, actually enjoying the banter and the needle on your skin.
“May I ask as to why you selected a semicolon tattoo? If it’s too personal, I completely understand.”
“No, no, it’s fine. A semicolon is utilized when an author could have concluded a sentence but chose to continue. For me, it represents my struggle with mental health. There were instances when I thought I couldn't go on, but I chose to persevere. This little mark serves as a reminder that my journey isn't over, and I have the power to keep writing my own story."
A moment of silence ensues before Toji speaks up, “Wow. That’s incredibly powerful,” he replies, admiration evident in his voice. "I had no idea a simple punctuation mark could carry such profound meaning. It’s truly inspiring to see how you've transformed your struggles into something so positive and empowering."
You can’t help but let a small smile form on your face, relieved that he can’t see it.
“So,” you say, attempting to lighten the mood, “do you have any tattoos?”
“A few,” he smirks, “maybe you’ll get to see them one day.”
“Maybe.” You're full-on smiling now, heart fluttering. Was he flirting? He was definitely flirting. You found him attractive, and clearly, he thought the same about you. Before you knew it, Toji had finished the tattoo. He was now carefully cleaning the area and applying a bandage. His cold fingertips pressing into your skin sent shivers down your back. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly turned on; his touch was so caring and gentle.
Damn, were you this touch-deprived?
“All done, wanna take a look?” Toji questions, flipping off the humming machine. You’d been laying down for so long your legs had fallen asleep. You took a minute to stretch your sore limbs before sauntering over to the mirror. It was perfect, the lines were clean, and it was the perfect size.
This man had the hands of a perfectionist.
“I love it!” you smile, looking at your hip in the mirror.
“I’m glad. It looks perfect on you,” Toji compliments, and you can’t help but turn your eyes away from the mirror to look at him. He’s already staring at you, a glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read. He knows it’s inappropriate to be staring at you like this, but he can’t resist. He finds you absolutely intoxicating.
The way your coiled hair cascaded down your back and framed your round face so perfectly. Your lips, coated in a glossy sheen, pulled into a sheepish smile, making his heart race. He’d been hard the entire time he was working on your tattoo, and he was grateful your back was turned to him. It gave him a moment to compose himself before he finished, though it was torture not being able to see your face.
“So, how much is it?”
Your sweet voice breaks his train of thought. “It’s on the house,” Toji smiles at you, standing to his feet and pulling his gloves off. You raise an eyebrow at him but decide not to press the matter. If it’s free, that’s more money in your pockets.
“Thanks so much, Toji. You did a great job. I’ll definitely be recommending you to all my friends,” you beam, admiring the way the tattoo clashed with your brown skin. He can’t help but let his eyes falter to your ass before he meets your gaze.
“I know this might sound weird, but do you think I could get your number?”
You’re taken aback. This fine-ass man had given you a free tattoo, and he wanted your number. Could your night get any better?
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You giggle, feeling like a schoolgirl once again. Your hand digs into your purse, and you hand him your phone, watching as his large hands hold your phone, making it look like a toy. He types his number in and hands it back.
“Text me, okay? I’ll be looking forward to it.” He smiles, and you can’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach.
“Of course. Guess I’ll see you around?”
He nods, watching you exit the shop.
Now that you were back on the streets, you remembered Min. She’d been gone for an hour now. Your stomach grumbled in dissatisfaction. Where the hell was your pizza with extra cheese? You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest before you began making your way to the parlor.
“Oh my god! He gave you a free tat and asked for your number? Lucky bitch!” Min exclaims loudly, catching a couple of gazes from people eating around you. You giggled and pushed her shoulder.
“He was cute, right? Like DILF material.” You crack a smile before munching on your pizza. The cheese melts in your mouth, and you can’t help but moan at the greasy masterpiece, your stomach grumbling in agreement.
“I wonder if he has any cute DILF friends.” Min pouts.
“Oh yeah, I’ll text him, ‘Hey mister, got any DILF friends for my friend?’”
“Really?” Min perks up.
“I’m being sarcastic.”
She pouts.
“Boo, you whore.”
You both laugh, and Min leans in closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “But seriously, he was so into you. Did you see the way he looked at you?”
You smirk, feeling your face get hot.
“Yeah, I noticed. His eyes were like, piercing through my soul or something.”
Min sighs dreamily. “Ugh, why can’t guys like that ever notice me? I swear, I’d be the perfect girlfriend for a tattoo artist.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Maybe you should get a tattoo next time. Who knows, you might get lucky too.”
Min giggles. “I just might. But for now, I’ll live vicariously through you and your hot tattoo guy.”
It’d been about a month now, and you and Toji talked almost every single day. You've learned so much about him. He grew up in New Orleans, and he's 29. Not only is he incredibly smart, but he also has a degree in psychology. You were relieved when you asked if he had kids, and he said no.
That would've been a huge turnoff for you, but lucky for you, he's waiting for the right person. His messages are always funny and flirty, often leaving you swinging and kicking your feet like an excited child. Still, you’re kinda bummed that you two haven’t hung out yet. It seems like every time he’s free, you’re busy, and when you’re free, he’s busy.
You think back to all the late-night conversations where he made you laugh so hard your sides hurt. The way he talks about his favorite jazz spots in New Orleans makes you want to visit the city just to see it through his eyes. You can almost hear his deep, soothing voice in your head when you read his texts, and it sends a shiver down your spine every time.
Despite the scheduling conflicts, you’re hopeful. You imagine the day you finally get to meet him in person, feeling the butterflies in your stomach just thinking about it. You know it’ll be worth the wait, and until then, his sweet and playful messages are enough to keep you smiling.
You're perched on the couch with a glass of wine, feet tucked underneath you as you watch "The Hills Have Eyes." You're a sucker for scary movies, and it’s only right to watch one when it’s pouring outside. Your kitten, Midnight, prowls around the living room before finally cuddling into your lap. “Hi Middy,” you coo, stroking her soft fur. You're distracted when your phone vibrates against the sofa.
Toji🤍: Hi pretty, sorry I haven’t been able to text much. Had appointments back to back.
It’s okay :) I missed talking to you.
Toji🤍: Can I come over? I’m dying to see that pretty face again.
You can’t help but let out an excited squeal as you type in the address. You’re not one to get so easily worked up over a man, but Toji is different. He makes you feel special, and he’s way more mature than those stupid college boys you’re used to dealing with.
“Sorry, Midnight,” you laugh, watching your kitty jump off your lap at the sudden movement. You’re currently wearing your ugly PJs; you can’t possibly see Toji in this.
You practically break your ankle running upstairs to your room, trying to get changed. Your heart races with excitement, but frustration builds as you can’t find the item you’re looking for. Where is it?
You yank open your closet and start shuffling through the hangers, tossing clothes aside until you finally find your v-necked silk nightgown. It cuts off just below your ass, and you know Toji will love it. You strip off your old t-shirt and sweat pants, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation, before slipping into the gown.
It hugs your curves perfectly and cups your breasts beautifully. You ruffle up your hair a bit, adding a touch of wildness, before giving yourself one more look in the mirror.
Twenty minutes rolled around, and you heard a knock on the door. You didn’t know why, but suddenly you were nervous, your heart beating rapidly against your chest. Fuck, you’re a grown woman—why’re you scared? You take a deep breath and knock back the rest of your wine.
As soon as you open the door, Toji’s soft lips are on yours, his inked arms wrapping around your waist as he pushes against you. You can't help but let a moan slip from your lips as his tongue slips into your mouth, his foot pressing the door closed.
You’d been longing for this moment for what seemed like forever, and now that it was finally happening, your head was swirling. His kiss was rough but passionate, and it had your stomach burning with desire. You frowned when he suddenly pulled away.
"God, you have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for that," he husks, his dark eyes locked with your brown ones. His hands are still firmly around your waist, his closeness making your entire body ache with desire. He smells so fucking good it makes your mouth water.
"Toji?" you breathe, barely recognizing your own voice.
"Yeah?"
"I need you."
"Lead me to the bedroom, princess."
You nod, grasping his hand in yours before making your way through the cozy apartment. As soon as you enter the room, his lips are back on yours. The way your soft lips move against his has his head spinning; they’re so soft and plump. His hands press into your hips, drawing you deeper into his embrace. The heat between your legs grows, and you fist his shirt desperately.
You can feel his bulge pressing into you eagerly. He pulls away from the kiss, a string of your combined saliva breaking apart. You watch as he lays on the bed, motioning for you to come over. His eyes are low and dark, and you can tell he’s restraining himself as he watches you saunter over to him. His eyes are glued to your body, his breath quickening as he takes in the sight of you. The way you swing your hips, the way your brown skin shimmers, the way your gown accentuates every curve—he fucking loves it.
"Sit on my face," he murmurs. You freeze for a moment; you’ve never actually sat on anyone’s face, and you’re afraid you’ll hurt him. Toji can see the uncertainties on your face, and he chuckles softly before sitting up. "You won’t hurt me, I’m not fragile," he reassures, wrapping his big hands in yours and searching your eyes.
His touch is firm yet gentle, grounding you in the moment. The intensity in his gaze melts your doubts away. Slowly, you climb onto the bed, your heart pounding in anticipation. He lays back, his eyes never leaving yours as you position yourself above him. His hands grip your thighs, guiding you down with a possessive yet tender hold.
As you lower yourself onto his face, you feel his hot breath against your core. His mouth eagerly meets you, his tongue exploring you with a hunger that sends waves of pleasure through your body.
You gasp, your hands finding purchase in his hair as he devours you. The sensation is overwhelming, every flick of his tongue and every groan vibrating against you, driving you closer to the edge.
Toji's hands squeeze your thighs, encouraging you to move. You begin to rock your hips, finding a rhythm that has both of you moaning in unison
“Oh—fuck, feels so g-good,” you whine,attempting to keep your heavy head up.His tongue wildly laps up your juices,darting over your entrance.He moans, the vibration against your quivering pussy eliciting a shaky moan from you.
You’ve never had your pussy eaten like this, and it’s evident to Toji as you greedily buck your hips against his face.His fingertips press into your doughy thighs holding you in place, “D-don’t stop, p-please don’t stop.” you sob.
“Bounce on my face doll,”
You bite your lip hesitantly,Toji nods, silently telling you it’s okay.You squat over his face,almost losing your balance when Toji’s slimy long tongue swipes across your core.
“Ughhh,” you draw out,pussy smacking down on his face with each descent of your hips.The noises you’re making are filthy and desperate, but you can’t help it, this man is a munch.
Each time you lower yourself onto him you can feel his tongue push through your folds.
He can’t help but groan you taste so fucking delicious and it’s hard to ignore the way his cock is pressing against his khaki jeans, threatening to burst at the seams.
Your moans are so damn pretty,they’re the perfect mix of breathy and whiny.You’re putty on top of Toji, he’s eating your pussy like a starved man.Your stomach flips each time you meet his mouth,broken mewls fumbling from your mouth.Your legs are trembling and you find it hard to continue to bounce,”It’s okay pretty.Let me do the work,” Toji mutters, hands latching back around your thighs.
“E-eating my p-pussy so good,” you stutter,Toji’s tongue is swirling inside of you, his pointed nose rubbing against your sensitive clit.Your sweet cries are motivation as he slurps, teeth grazing your clit.
The pleasure builds, your body trembling as you lose yourself in the ecstasy of his touch. You look down, meeting his dark, lust-filled eyes,and the sight pushes you over the edge. With a final, shuddering cry, you come undone, the pleasure washing over you in waves as Toji holds you steady, his mouth still working you through your climax.
"God, Toji," you pant, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. "That was incredible."
He pulls back slightly, his lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Told you, you wouldn't hurt me," he teases, his voice husky. "And you taste fucking amazing."
Toji can’t get enough of you. Every moment with you feels like a drug he can't quit. His lips find their way back to yours, capturing them in a kiss that is both fervent and tender, as if he’s trying to memorize the taste of you. Your fingers, delicate yet determined, dance at the hem of his shirt, teasing the fabric before finally pulling it off.
The sight that greets you is breathtaking. His body, now exposed, is a canvas of muscle and ink. Tattoos, each one telling a story, are scattered across his skin, enhancing his already rugged beauty.
You take a moment to admire him, your eyes tracing the lines and curves of his form. He is even more beautiful unclothed, each tattoo adding to the allure of his physique. Toji, sensing your admiration, smirks slightly before positioning himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable, each breath you take filled with the electricity of the moment.
"God, you’re beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.
As he pushes into you, your jaw goes slack, a soft gasp escaping your lips. The stretching sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and intimacy that leaves you breathless. He feels incredible inside of you, filling you completely and making your stomach turn with every movement.
Your body responds instinctively, slick with sweat as you become a mess underneath him. His deliberate, controlled thrusts send waves of ecstasy through you, each one intensifying the connection between you.
"Toji…," you moan, your voice barely a whisper.
He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I love the way you say my name," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.
Your mind races, thoughts jumbled and incoherent. How does he make me feel this way? Every touch, every movement, it’s like he knows exactly what I need. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against you. Your bodies move in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and desire that neither of you wants to end.
"I need you," you manage to say, your voice trembling with emotion.
"I’m right here," he replies, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with a mix of tenderness and raw desire.Your nails dig into his back, leaving faint red marks against his skin.The sound of your wetness echos through his ears like music, your pussy queefing each time he pushes back inside of you.
He can’t help but groan in pleasure, you’re so fucking tight around him he wants to fill you up.You hook your legs around him, forcing him deeper into your cunt.His mouth waters at your bouncing tittes and he kneads one between his large hands.
Your nipples are and have always been extremely sensitive and you squirm as he massages the bud between his fingers.”This pussy is amazing,fuck,” he grunts,head dropping into the crane of your neck.Instinctively, you run your hands through his sweaty hair.He mewls in pleasure, kissing at your neck as his hands spreads your cheeks apart, plunging into your creamy pussy at a better angle.
“Fucking me so good,” you whine, stomach clenching.His swollen tip is prodding at your cervix and you can only take his relentless thrust.He feels so good inside of you, stretching your poor hole to it’s limit, you’re surprised he hasn’t ripped you.
You can tell he’s getting tired as his thrust become erratic,you’re sure as hell not a pillow princess either, you kiss his face gently swallowing back a whimper at another thrust.
“Let me ride you,”
Instantly, you’re straddling Toji.He looks so damn sexy underneath you, hair swiped to the back with sweat, needy eyes silently begging you to milk his cock.”Easy boy,” you giggle,grabbing the base of his dick.His tip is flushed with pre-cum and your arousal, you can’t resist swiping your thumb across him.
He whines underneath you, body tensing.You line him up with your dripping cunt, sliding your pussy folds against him earning a moan from him.You continue this, letting your folds roll over his tip then back down to his base.You can’t help but moan at the friction against your throbbing clit.
Toji’s a whiny red-faced mess under you, he’s throbbing excitedly in your hand.His hands pressed tightly into your waist, straining to hold himself back from pushing his hips up into you.Finally you sink onto him, your wetness welcoming his twitching cock warmly.
”Fuck…” he growls, he’s deeper than ever inside of you and you grip his shoulders as pain racks your body.He caresses your thighs as you adjust, fighting the urge to once again roll his hips into you.
“So proud of you, taking all of me like a big girl,” he mutters.
Your stomach flips at his words of gratification, hips finally beginning to grind against him.A boost of confidence rushes through you as his head lulls back, face scrunched as you ride him.
His needy gasps and whines are so fucking sexy, “fucking me so good,” he quivers, legs shaking as you sink back onto him.You’re so tight around him it’s got his toes curling,fuck, he could fill you up right now.You’re a shaky mess on top of him, your pussy suckling at him,begging for his cum.
You nearly scream as he starts rolling his hips into you, “r-right there,” you gasp out, fisting the sheets in complete bliss.Your moans mix with his, your neighbors probably hate you.His balls slap against your ass he snaps his hips into you, you look so breedable to him.He resists the urge to nut in you, the thought of your stomach swollen with his seed making his dick throb.
“Toji!” you rasp, he was fucking the shit out of you and it had your head spinning.With each prod of his dick into you, you could feel the knot in your stomach banding tighter.You sobbed as his thumb found your clit, flicking over your bud in hard circular motions.
“So s-sensitive,” you hiss,back arching allowing him to slide into you deeper.The feeling of his cock against your contracting walls making him groan deeply,his thumb still massaging your pink clit.
Tears well in your eyes,you’re so close.
“Kiss me,” Toji moans.
Toji's lips met yours in a wet, hungry kiss that left you both gasping for air. The kiss was desperate and passionate, a clash of teeth and tongues that sent shivers down your spine. You could taste the salty sweat on his lips, mingling with the heat of his breath. Your fingers grip his hair, pulling him closer as if you could merge your bodies into one.
Toji's kiss was relentless, a mixture of need and longing that left you both breathless.”Fuck,I’m cumming!” you whine against his lips,body shivering as your climax hits you.
“Cum on me baby, take what you need. It’s yours.” Toji encourages you, arms wrapping around you as he continues plunging into you.
He bucks his hips into your creamy heat until he feels the knot in his stomach snap, he gently pushes you off to release.His back arches of the bed as you grip him in your hands, deepthroating his cock.You gag as he hits the back of your throat, his seed shooting in your mouth.
”Oh my fucking god,” he whines, legs tense as you suck every drop of cum from him.His eyes snap close, reveling in the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock.
“I could marry your beautiful ass,” he laughs, as you pop him out of your mouth.
“maybe.” you tease.
•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•
this has been sitting in my drafts forever and i’m sick of looking at it! k bye.
467 notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
Note
Fingers crossed for an update of Passion for Fashion 💖❓ sorry for the bother but I've just become addicted to reading that Au lololol I've read it over and over again for like a hundred times now
"Give me a spin," Dan demands, keeping a critical eye on the suit pants as the man did as he was told. He clicks his tongue in sharp disapproval before falling into a crouch and fidgeting with the hem.
Danny thinks the suit came out looking fantastic for a stupid theme like question marks. The client was also a rather exciting guy, randomly spewing riddles at them as Dan worked on his outfit and Danny cooked them lunch.
Edward Nigma had shown up on their doorstep with a cheerful greeting at five a.m. Danny wanted to tell Edward that anything before nine a.m. should be illegal, but Dan was happy to welcome him in.
Dan had forgotten to sleep again and didn't realize the early morning start. Danny was getting rather tired of the ghost rushing about with an insane amount of energy, only to crash when his human body could no longer sustain his habits.
After letting Edward get comfortable on the half-buried couch of clothing, Danny wandered back upstairs to his bedroom. It was the only room—besides the bathroom—where there wasn't a bunch of fabric and sewing instruments thrown about. He crashed on his bed and didn't wake up until two more hours later.
By that point, when he had done his morning routine and wandered downstairs, he found Edward sitting crosslegged in a ring of paper. The paper had multiple sketched designs of various suits.
A little to his right was Dan, whose hand was nothing but a blur as it raced across his sketchbook. Danny could make out that he stopped, ever so often, to switch out the coloring pencils for shades of green and purple, but doing it at such a speed that he doubted regular humans would be able to tell.
It meant his drawings were done at an insanely fast pace. He wondered if his Obsession made it possible not to burn a hole through the paper. Was there a way to test that? Ghosts did have an effect on their environments just as the environments had an effect on their forming.
Edward was comparing two papers in his hands with a critical eye. He looked up as Danny stumbled down the stairs- he had never been a morning person. He held up the designs for Danny to see, asking, " What is the most dangerous thing to give a man in a crowd?"
Half asleep, Danny didn't miss a beat in muttering, "Power."
Edward seemed pleased by his response, putting the left one back into the ring of papers before shifting around to face a new side of the ring. There, he ran his fingers over the designs, muttering, "It needs to be powerful."
Right.
"I'm making breakfast if anyone-"
"No need. Edward ordered us some. Your burrito is over there somewhere," Dan cut him off, turning to the next page without lifting his head. "It's part of my commission."
"Free food?"
"For a week"
"Nice"
Edward glances at them. "I can keep feeding you if you answer more riddles."
Danny takes a big bite out of his bean burrito, savoring the explosion of flavor that dances over before nodding his head. "I promise I'll try to answer as many as I can but I'm not the best at them."
The man frowns, turning away back to this pile of papers. "If you're not going to play my game, you don't need to waste the air you breathe in."
Both Fentons freeze at that, snapping their heads in Edward's direction. Now, correct him if he is wrong, but that sounded a whole lot like a threat to Danny. He made eye contact with Dan, tracing the youthful human face that held the same bloodlust as his adult form.
Was Edward aware he had just issued a Ghost Challenge to the one Fenotn, the least human, thus the one with the least humanity of them all, madness cured or not? Is he aware that Dan was putting down his drawings, his teeth more sharp, and his hands curled into claws?
Danny sprung to his feet, mouth open in a shout just as Dan was about to leap-
Ding Dong.
The front doorbell cuts through the air like a knife through hot butter. Dan's ghost instincts all but vanish as his eyes light up in joy. He goes through with his leap, but it's only to go over Edward's form and roll to a stop on the other side, heading towards the door. "My second client!"
Danny breathes a sigh of relief, flopping back down in his seat. He ignores Edward, savoring his food with a deep hunger. Clockwork had sent them over with enough funds to survive, and there were no bills they needed to cover (if there were, no one had bothered to come collect from the Fentons or cut their services), but that was a limit to how loose they could be with their spending.
Danny thought eating out was a luxury he would miss out on until he returned home. Of course, he got a coffee or something occasionally, but that made this free food all the more tasty.
"I was thinking something more eco-friendly," The redhead woman from the runway told Dan as she scanned the room with a hint of distaste. "Are you aware of the damage to the Earth these fabric stores cause?"
Dan eyed her with equal distance. "Are you aware of how little I care about that?"
Edward snaps his head up with a gasp. "Did he really say that to Ivy?"
"I thought her name was Pamela," Danny asks, which causes the green woman to snap a glare at him. He shrugs helplessly at her rage, reminded of Sam in a heartbreaking moment. "Miss, look around you. Do you honestly think ants like us have any say with the fabric companies?"
"You could stop giving them business!" She hisses as Dan rolls his eyes.
"We bought almost everything from a second-hand store or a discount store. The poor don't get to make eco-friendly decisions. They make ones that help them stay off the streets." Danny explains gently, making sure his voice is not dismissive or condescending. He thinks back to nights when he had to talk Sam down from doing something crazy- like setting a building on fire for them and cutting down the oldest trees in Amity Park. "You have the means to make a change."
Pamela raises a brow. "I do make a change. Permanently."
"Oh, that's great. How many trees have you replanted?" Danny asks, smiling widely. It's odd how she reacts to his question, body still going in surprise.
"What?"
"I mean, I figured you would be focusing on healing the earth instead of causing it more scars by engaging in human wars, right?" Danny tilts his head, aware of Edward's flabbergasted look and Dan's apparent boredom with the conversation. "You're different from the big corporations who don't care who or what they hurt to reach their end goal, right? "
Pamela opens and closes her mouth before she snaps her back straight. "That wouldn't save the Earth! Humans are a plague!"
"Humans can also be a cure if the right ones get started." Danny counters quickly. "I mean, what have you done for the rivers around Gotham? The water that flows through there affects the plant life just as much. Also, plants and green help lower depression, and Gotham needs help. Plant some pretty flowers and gardens, and watch the neighborhoods flock to them. If you can convince the people to love the plants as much as you do, they will join you in keeping them safe."
Pamela's eyes narrow. "Don't you dare lecture me about how to save the Earth."
Danny shrugs, stepping away from her. A sudden strong perfume fills the air, causing his nose to wrinkle. It smells like his grandmother's house and is not welcoming. "Wasn't a lecture, but if you take it as such, there is no point in talking about it anymore."
"You're going to die for me," she suddenly says, popping out her hip and smirking at him.
"That's nothing special, Danny would die for a pizza." Dan cuts in
"I would die for an extra cheese pizza." Danny corrects, pointing his finger at his counterpart. "You would die for less."
"Oh, to be dead. In the arms of the most handsome EverBurning to ever live." Dan sighs dramatically, leaning into three pieces of cloth behind him, one hand on his forehead.
Danny threw his hands in the air. He's sick and tired of hearing about the ghost they knew for only ten minutes. "Killer Croc is never going to give you a chance, Dan. Move on!"
"We could have been forever if it weren't for my age!" Dan hisses right back, "You wouldn't understand! It's not like you or Samantha turned five!"
"Who's fault do you think that was? " Danny yells back, stepping around the wide-eyed Edward to snare into Dan's face. Pamela has taken three steps back, looking confused more than anything, mouthing Killer's name with clear disbelief.
"I wasn't the one that messed up the timeline!" Dan hisses, switching over to Spanish. Sometimes, the fake twins found themselves doing that whenever they got too emotional.
"You destroyed the world!"
"As it was foretold!"
"What does that even mean!?"
Ding Dong.
Once again, the doorbell cuts through the tension, making Danny huff. He pushes past Dan, who punches him in the arm but doesn't stop him from throwing the door open. Outside stands Tim Drake, with a bouquet of flowers and a nervous smile.
"I'm here for the suit," Tim says, holding out the flowers. "I know you said I didn't have to pay you, but I thought it was rude to not offer anything-"
"Buy me pizza." Danny cuts him off with dead-set eyes. "Double crust."
Tim startles. "Oh. Sure?"
Danny can feel his face stretch out into a grin. It lights up his whole face—Sam and Tucker had told him many times before—and he just knows it makes him appear lighter and friendlier. Tim's face goes very red as Danny takes his flowers. "It's a date. Come on in. Dan can get your measurements for the resize, and I can get ready in the meantime."
"Okay." Tim follows after him in a daze, stumbling over the fabric rolls Dan had stacked against the wall. He tries to avoid tipping but tangles himself in the string of cloth examples, still strung up everywhere. Danny quickly reaches out to steady him with a laugh.
"Yeah, this place is a bit of a mess," he tells the other. "It's slightly better today since Dan has some guests."
He leads Tim back into the living room, surprised to find that the awful smell has disappeared, Edward is currently being measured by Dan in his underwear, and Pamela is flipping through Dan's designs with a thought frown.
Huh, maybe Dan managed to calm her down. How? He's unsure, but that ghost always seemed to have the oddest people skills.
Tim gulps loudly when he finally spots everyone. "These are his guests?!"
"It's one of the Waynes." Edward cheers, arms held out to his sides as Dan places the measuring tap from his armpit to his waist. "Tim Drake, right? I had you in one of my riddles three months ago!"
"That's funny. I induced his father with pheromones around the same time." Pamela speaks up, giving Tim a friendly smile. It's the most welcoming expression she's worn since she got here.
Also ew, why would she tell someone she hooked up with their dad to their face like that?
Tim pales dramatically, reaching out to clutch Danny's arm. He pats it gently, hoping to comfort him from such a bizarre comment. "Dan, when you finish with Edward, can you message Tim for his adjustments. We're going on a date."
Dan glances over at him. "Whore"
"Just because I've gone on dates while Killer didn't even give you the time of day doesn't mean you can call me names, Dan."
"Whore but affectionately," Dan says after a long pause, and Danny nods.
"That's better." He pats Tim again on the shoulder- aware of his strange fidgeting with a ring on his finger that imitates a strange faint beeping. "I'll go upstairs to get ready. Who knows, maybe we'll find Batman."
Edward and Pamela laugh as if Danny said a funny joke and Tim's face aging a few more nervous lines. "Maybe"
He leaves Tim to take a seat next to Pamela. She leans over to show Dan's designs for her Leaf theme act and asks for his opinion. Tim fidgets even more with his ring as he answers her, voice shaky and cracking.
She seems highly amused.
His pale face stands out among the sea of handing red glimmering fabric around his head, and Danny is startled for a second by the idea that he is pretending to be scared, much like an actor before a red stage curtains.
It takes a particular skill to pull off an act that good. Almost an inhuman amount. One could even claim it was.... Bat-man-like.
I have a lead, Danny thinks with glee as he quickly climbs the stairs. He is careful not to step on bundles of yarn that Dan has stacked there. I finally have a lead!
He's going to charm the pants off of Tim to get him to tell him everything about Batman.
710 notes · View notes
froggiewrites · 14 days
Text
Bloody Hands
Pairing: Law x Reader
NSFW
Summary: You're struggling with horrible period cramps, and luckily, Law has the perfect solution. Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Period Sex, Fluff Word Count: 2.1k Notes: Did I write this in one sitting instead of just taking ibuprofen for my cramps like a normal person? Maybe. Anyway, this is my first time writing for Law, so I hope I did him justice!
This is going to kill you.
You say that every month, of course, but you really, truly mean it this time. You’re practically immobilized, laying in the fetal position on your bed trying not to let out pitiful moans every time another wave of pain hits. You fail every time.
Several members of the crew had come to check on you, bringing offerings of heating pads, ibuprofen, and various other remedies, but they hardly helped. After the fifth visit (Penguin bringing you more water while anxiously checking you over), you couldn’t even thank your friends, only letting out a sad whimper to acknowledge their presence before once again squeezing your eyes tight and trying desperately to ground yourself.
Your captain had been noticeably absent from these visits, probably burying himself in work as he always does, and you’re torn between being grateful he hasn’t seen you in such a sorry state and hurt tearing through your chest that he didn’t care enough to check on you. You would have gone to him in a heartbeat if he was doing as poorly as you were. He wouldn’t want you to, of course, would lock his door and burrow so deeply into his bed he wouldn’t see a single speck of light until his illness had passed, but you would come anyway. You would at least try.
You regret the thought the moment you hear a familiar hum at the doorway. You should have known he would never leave you alone when you needed him. “I almost didn’t believe everyone when they said how bad it was.” You whine, and you hear a sympathetic chuckle. “I know.” The heels of his shoes click softly against the ground, and suddenly Law’s warm hand has slid under your shirt, warm and gentle as it rubs circles onto your upper back.
“Everything hurts.” You’re so lost in the pain you can't even bring yourself to hate how pathetic you sound. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzle into it, welcoming the affection gratefully.
“I know, sweetheart.” He doesn’t often call you pet names, and it makes your heart flutter when he does. Usually when you hear them it means you’re going to be taken care of, cherished in a more tender way than the quiet and understated (but no less wonderful) way he normally shows his love for you. His lips ghost over your forehead, and you finally open your eyes to see his own staring at you with undisguised concern, bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. “Can you describe it to me? Is it just the cramps, or is there something else?”
“It’s just cramps. And a small headache, I guess.” Another wave crashes over you, and you pull yourself in even tighter. “They’re…they’re not normally this bad.”
“And the pain meds haven’t helped?”
“Not enough.”
“Hm.” You can see the exact moment he flips from lover to doctor, racking his brain for any knowledge he can use to help you, and the moment he finds his answer. The light flickers on behind his eyes, and he carefully looks over you, assessing the situation, before your lover is back, sly grin slowly creeping over his face and a quiet excitement makes its way into his voice. “I think I know something that could help. If you’re willing.”
“I would do anything for this to stop,” you whimper, and his amusement once again fades into fondness as his eyes soften with pity.
“I’ll do my best to help, sweetheart, I promise.” His lips brush against your forehead again before the bed shifts and his warmth has left you. You cry out, but he gently shushes you. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back, really.”
He probably is only gone for a minute, but it feels like hours. You don’t relax for even a second until you hear a quiet, “Shambles!” and find yourself in the familiar dim light of Law’s room. Your back is pressed against something rougher than his usual blankets, and you turn your head to see you’re laid out against a mismatched array of towels, clearly stolen from the shared bathroom the rest of the crew uses. His pair of towels are separated, one lying directly under your lower half while the other sits folded and ready at the end of the bed. Law is staring at you, unblinking, directly next to it.
“Hi.” Your voice is weaker than you want it to be, barely a whisper, but he slightly smiles when he hears it anyway.
“Hi.” He leans forward a bit, eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light, looking almost like a predator stalking his prey. It makes you tense despite yourself, causing another flash of pain in your abdomen. The vulnerable noise you make causes him to grin, showing just a bit of sharp canines through his parted lips. “Are you ready?”
“For what?”
“Your treatment, sweetheart.” He maintains eye contact with you as he slowly pulls latex gloves over his tattooed hands, covering the letters on his fingers. Once they’re fully on, he lets the material go, making a small thwap as it snaps against his skin. He repeats himself. “Are you ready?”
“Yes?”
“I need you to be sure.”
“Yes.” You repeat, more firmly this time.
“Excellent. I promise you’ll feel better soon.” With that, you can feel the cool latex against your skin as he slips off the loose pajama pants you were wearing in a single fluid motion. You then feel his hands against your thighs, forcing them apart and leaning forward. You let out a soft noise of surprise, and he gives you the same predatory smile as before before muttering, “Just relax.”
His gloved fingers slowly trace up your thighs, before he quickly removes your panties, depositing them somewhere nearby. He turns his attention back to you, fingers retracing their path, and you shiver as he runs a single finger down your slit. He lifts his hand closer to his face as though to inspect it, and you can see the blue latex becomes stained with blood. You can see his pupils dilate, black overtaking the normal steely grey of his eyes. You can’t tell if he’s fascinated or aroused. Probably both.
He allows his hand to find its rightful place again, slowly inserting his first finger into you. You gasp quietly, and he laughs under his breath. You feel yourself stretch around him as the slick of your blood makes it easy for him to slide himself knuckle deep into you. You let out a stuttering breath as you get used to the new sensation. Your pain hasn’t subsided, but this is certainly a good distraction.
“Everything alright?” His voice is low, thick with want, but he tries to maintain an even tone.
“Yeah,” you managed to squeak out. “I’m fine.”
“Only fine?” He lets out a displeased hum. “Next time I ask, I want you to be doing better than ‘fine’.”
“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” You regret the words the moment they come out of your mouth. As much as Law loves to pretend he is some even-keeled professional, he’s easily riled up by a challenge, and challenges relating to you are some of his favorites. “I mean–”
“I know what you meant. Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.” With that, he begins pumping, keeping a steady slow pace that isn’t nearly enough for you, before suddenly adding a second finger. He curls them, hitting a sweet spot that makes you sing for him, and he gives you an absolutely shit eating grin. “Sounds like we’re already well on our way, hm?”
He speeds up slightly, his other hand leaving the plush of your thigh and finding your clit. The material feels strange against you, but that thought is quickly shoved out of your head as he slowly begins to rub small circles against it. You let out a whine of, “Law!”
“Yes?” His voice is dripping with smugness. You can do nothing but let out another small cry of his name, and you can see the way his chest slightly puffs out with pride at the sound. There is nothing in the world he loves more than making you come unraveled, and he loves any reminder of that, especially those that remind him that you’re his and that he is the one making you feel this way. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you. We’ll be there soon.” He adds a third finger, reveling in the way you clench around him. You see his eyelids drop slightly as he takes in the sight of you splayed out before him, blood and wetness covering his fingers as they pump in and out of you.
You finally, finally begin to feel something stronger than your pain as the coil in your stomach tightens, making every part of you begin to tense as you approach your precipice. Law leans over you, taking his eyes off of your cunt for the first time since he started  just so he can look you in the eyes and whisper, “Let go. I’ve got you.”
You gush around his fingers, crying out. He doesn’t look away from your face as your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, taking in every inch of your sweet expression. He works you through it, not removing his fingers until he knows for certain that you’ve ridden your high to the end, leaving you spent and relaxed against the towel below you. Once he slides his hands out of you, he quickly removes his gloves, dropping them into a nearby trash can. He grabs the towel at the end of the bed and uses it to wipe up any blood on your thighs, placing a gentle kiss to each thigh once he’s sure they’re clean.
“How are you doing?” His voice carries no challenge like earlier, only a genuine concern for you.
“I’m great.”
“No cramps?”
You close your eyes, taking in your current state. You feel a little sore, and there’s still a small pressure in your skull, but you realize your abdomen doesn’t hurt at all. “No cramps.” You can’t keep the pleased smile off of your face, and when you open your eyes you see his expression mirrors your own, if a touch more smug.
“Good.” He kisses your forehead before gently gathering you into his arms. You let out a soft noise of protest, but he pulls you into his chest anyway. “After a quick shower and some sleep I think your treatment will be over. …For now.”
“For now?”
“You’ll have to come see me if your cramps return, of course.” His eyes shine with a gentle mischief you don’t often get to see.
“Oh, of course, Dr. Trafalgar.” You expect him to roll his eyes at you, but he smirks further at you using his title. Interesting.
For now, he carries you into his personal bathroom, setting you down and beginning to fuss with the shower. Your eyes spy the empty towel rack, and you have a realization. “Law?”
“Yes?”
“Do you have any towels not covered in blood?”
“I–hm.” He leaves for a moment, returning with another clearly stolen towel. The crew is going to have a bad night once showertime rolls around, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much, still caught up in your sudden relaxation after your day of suffering. In the shower, Law pampers you thoroughly, refusing to let you lift a finger to do anything for yourself. His fingers are gentle as he washes your hair, your face, your body. He wraps you tenderly in a towel once all is done, even helping you dress once you’ve dried. He only stops pampering you once he’s tucked you tightly into his bed, heating pad and pain meds ready on his nightstand just in case. And in a very rare treat, instead of rushing off to work, he lays down next to you.
“You aren’t going to leave?” You can’t keep the tentative hope from your voice.
“Not until you’re asleep.” He pulls your head into his chest, and you happily make a home there.
“I’ll have to stay up to keep you here.” Even as you say it your eyes are drooping, and you can feel the rumble of his laugh.
“You can try.” He runs his fingers carefully through your hair.
You lose quickly, falling into an easy sleep, surrounded by warmth and care, and pain far away from your mind.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece
341 notes · View notes
ofstarsandvibranium · 2 months
Text
Wield It
Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte
Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader
Summary: You start your training with Qimir while also fighting the growing attraction you feel towards him.
Qimir Masterlist
Tumblr media
You sit on a hill that overlooks the island. Your eyes are closed and you listen to your surroundings. You hear little critters chirping, waves crashing along the shores, the sound of Qimir breathing.
There's a buzzing sensation that courses through you and you know it's because Qimir draws closer. You feel him reaching out and, with your eyes still closed, you catch his wrist with your hand.
You open your eyes to see him smirking down at you, "Good," he says, staring at you with pride.
You drop his wrist and look away, staring out to the sea, "At the rate I've been going, I'm sure Mae will be much more suited to be your equal than I."
He looks at you curiously, "Does that thought bother you?"
You shrug, "Yes and no," you sigh, "Yes, because it proves to me that I'm not fit for this. No, because I still think Mae would be much more suited to be your equal than me."
"You have the potential. I sense a strong connection to the Force in you. You can have the power, Y/N. You just need to strengthen that connection, let it take over you. Then you can wield and bend it to however you like." He holds out his hand, "Stand up."
You place your hand in yours and he aids you to your feet. You stand there waiting for his next instruction.
"Close your eyes, do the same as before. Deep breaths, listen to your surroundings, but think of a time you were angry. A time that had your blood boiling, to the point you felt like you wanted everything around you to erupt in flames."
Your mind quickly flashes back to various times in your life where you felt angry, but none of them had the feeling that Qimir described. You thought back to your youth and then that's when it came.
You were a teenager. You came back from school to the apothecary your aunt owned. She was the one that took you in, raised you, and taught you how to run her shop. She always greeted you with a loving smile, but this time, she didn't.
You entered the shop to find it in disarray. You called for your aunt, hoping she would respond. But nothing.
Then you saw a pair of feet sticking out from behind the counter. You rushed over to her and she was already dead. You held her crying until the shop owner next door, came to help you.
Bounty hunters that weren't happy with a concoction your aunt gave them. In retaliation, they robbed and killed her.
The anger you felt towards them. The way you wanted to slaughter them after someone pointed them out to you a week later.
Going back to that memory, made your clench your fists and tighten your jaw. Your aunt was the only person who truly cared and loved you. And she was taken from you. Your aunt was taken from you. Rya was taken from you. You've primarily been alone and you were tired of it. You were angry that forces out of your control would take the people you cared about from you.
You wanted to take that control back.
"Amazing," you hear Qimir say and your eyes shoot open. Several rocks and boulders scattered around the hill were all suspended in the air. You feel that buzzing sensation again. It's much stronger this time.
"I told you," Qimir says, now standing behind you, whispering into your ear, "Let it take over you," he grabs your wrist, raising your arm out in front of you, "Wield and bend it."
You punch your fist out and the rocks zoom past you out into a rock pillar standing in the sea. The rocks pummel it, causing it to break and collapse.
You look over your shoulder and become incredibly aware how close Qimir is standing to you. You also feel one of his hands on your hips.
You clear your throat and take a few steps back, "That was...incredible."
"In due time, you'll be able to do much more than lift rocks," he gestures for you to follow him, "Let's eat."
____________________
You're trying to sleep. For the most part, the cave is dark, except for the little corner Qimir sits, working on his helmet.
You toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position to lay in. But nothing. Your body is pleading to rest, but your mind can't seem to get the hint. Thoughts are racing, questions and worries litter your mind.
You roll over, facing the direction where Qimir sits. He looks up, "Something wrong?"
You sigh, forgoing sleep and slipping out of the bed. You walk over to Qimir's little work station, sitting on the ground beside him, "So what is this?"
"A helmet made out of cortosis. Extremely durable. No lightsaber or blaster can get through it."
"I never knew such a thing existed," you say in awe.
"They use helmets similar to these in the Jedi academy. Help us hone in on using the Force and relying on just the Force," he states as he solders his helmet.
You look up at him in surprise, "You were a Jedi?"
"A long time ago. Things didn't work out," he says with a smirk and you can't help but snort.
"Did you just make a joke?"
He shrugs, "I can be funny sometimes."
"Has Mae seen this funny side of you?"
Qimir's smirk falls to a serious expression, "She only knows me as her Master. She doesn't know that the Qimir she knows out there," he gestures vaguely out, "is the same one here."
You bring your knees to closer to you, arms resting on your knees, "So you really think Mae will be your acolyte?"
"We have similar visions, we want to see the downfall of the Jedi. They talk of peace, but peace is a lie. There has never been and never will be peace. And I want to show them that," he reaches out and rests his hand on yours, "Together, we'll be able to show them that."
You nod, "I'm trying, Qimir. I hope you know that."
"I do. I appreciate you, for being here, for allowing this to happen."
You suddenly find yourself yawning and Qimir gives you a playful look, "Am I boring you?"
You shake your head insistently, "No, no. I just-I think my mind has finally caught up to what my body's been telling it."
Qimir rubs your hand and then pats it, "Rest. Your training continues tomorrow."
"Good night, Qimir," you say as you stand and head back to your bedroll.
"Good night," he murmurs, eyes stuck on you as you slip into bed, rolling over to face away from him. There's a pulling in his chest as he continues to watch you from afar.
He rubs at his chest, trying to soothe the ache. He knows nothing but you will soothe the ache in his chest he's still unsure about.
607 notes · View notes