#I don’t mean this to be rude I’m sorry if it comes off that way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saetoru · 9 months

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six.

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard.

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better.

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru.

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you.

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you.

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends.

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted.

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four.

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new.

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome.

scarily handsome, in fact.

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend.

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused.

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it.

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him.

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

#teepods.writings #fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

30K notes · View notes

marcsburnerphone · 4 months

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: none yet

Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

———————

“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.

“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.

“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.

“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.

“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.

“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.

“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.

“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.

“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.

“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.

“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.

“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.

“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.

“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.

“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet

‘of course’.

“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.

“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.

“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.

“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.

—————-

“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.

“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.

‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.

“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.

—————————-

“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.

“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.

“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.

“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.

“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.

“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.

“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.

“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.

“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.

————————

“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.

“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.

“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.

“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.

“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.

“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.

“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.

“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.

“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.

“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.

But what if?

——————-

“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.

“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.

“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.

“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.

“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.

“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.

“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.

He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.

“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.

“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.

“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.

“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.

“No worries love.” He nods to you.

“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.

He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.

—————————————-

I’m ready for a new story.

Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3

If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.

#captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare

2K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

I really hope you mean here 🤭

Request: "Remus is being rude to the reader due to the upcoming full moon.. make it as angsty as you can"

Thanks for requesting babe <3

cw: migraine, Rem is mean :(

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

When you come home from work, the apartment is dark and there’s evidence of Remus’ shit day everywhere.

The curtains are drawn closed against the sunlight, and there’s a discarded blanket on the couch and several snack containers half-emptied on the coffee table. One of them has tipped onto the floor, a mess of crisps your boyfriend was likely feeling too unwell to tidy. He’s spilled tea on the table, too. These kinds of things are more common in the days before the full moon, but you think he must really be having a rough one. Even a few unwashed dishes in the sink is usually enough to stress Remus out, so he has to have been in a state to leave things like this.

You brew a fresh cup of tea, grabbing some chocolates from the cabinet in case he didn’t bring any with him, and broach the bedroom. A shape moves under the sheets when the door creaks open.

“Hi,” you say softly. You kneel by the bed, lightly touching the ends of Remus’ hair. “How are you, love?”

“Bad,” he mutters from beneath the covers. You wince. He must be, if he won’t even lower the sheets beneath his eyes.

You do your best to keep the pity from your voice, knowing he’d hate it. “I brought you some tea,” you murmur, “if you want it.”

“Can’t right now.”

“It’s chamomile,” you coax. “It might help—”

“I can’t.” The low rumble of his voice takes on a hard edge, and you fall instantly silent. You nod even though he can’t see it, setting the tea and chocolate on his nightstand as quietly as you can.

You don’t tell him you’re going, sure every footstep is agonizingly loud for him. You force down the lump in your throat. Remus is miserable right now; he’s not thinking about how his tone affects you, and that’s not his fault. He doesn’t mean anything by it. You can deal with it, help anyways.

You sweep instead of vacuuming, gathering the little bits of crisps into a dustpan and dumping them in the trash. The half-eaten snacks get reshelved in your cabinets, the puddle of tea cleaned off the coffee table, and candles lit to banish the stale smell in the living room. The cinnamon ones are usually Remus’ favorite, but you trade them out for lavender on the off chance it helps with his headache. You’re washing dishes one at a time so they don’t clatter when the bedroom door creaks open.

“Hey,” you say, relieved. “Feeling better?”

“No.” Remus’ voice is low, and the scratch of it tears at your heartstrings. He trudges to the end of the hall, where he stops, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “I need you to be quiet.”

“Oh, sorry.” You soften your voice, freezing with your hands submerged in the warm dishwater. “I’ve been trying, I didn’t realize you could hear. I’m almost done with this, so—”

“Could you stop?” he asks, tone going harsh again. “Just, be quiet or find somewhere else to be, please. I can’t deal with this.”

You swallow against the intrusion in your throat. Will away the heat from your face. “Okay,” you say, the word barely a whisper.

Remus turns, plodding back to the bedroom. You hear the door shut.

You leave the dishwater to get cold rather than pouring it out and making more noise. You sit down on the couch with a book, eyes skimming over the words as you convince yourself over and over that it’d be stupid to cry about this. Your face heats, then cools. Tears blur your vision and you blink them away. This is ridiculous. Remus is just moody, he didn’t mean it. You know better than to take anything he says to heart right now. You can’t expect your efforts to be properly appreciated, but the important part is to keep making them. When he’s feeling better, he’ll thank you in a million sweet ways, because that’s who he is. He loves you. He didn’t mean it.

It’s dark outside when the bedroom door creaks open again. You hadn’t noticed night falling, even when the light became too dim for you to make out the words on your page. You set your book down; you hadn’t been reading anyway.

Remus sits next to you without a word. He leans the side of his head against the cushion with a sigh.

“Dove?” he murmurs.

You don’t dare do more than hum in response.

A scarred hand finds your leg, the thumb sweeping back and forth over your skin. “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he says quietly. “That was…it was really mean. And undeserved.”

“I’m sorry I was being loud,” you reply, and you can’t help it, your throat clogs all over again. “I was just trying to help.”

Your voice catches on the last word, and Remus makes a pained sound that has you silencing yourself instantly. He makes another at your response.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he rasps. “Do you want a hug?”

You bite down on your lower lip. “Are you okay to hug?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

He meets you in the middle, pressing upon your shoulder blades like he can hold you together by sheer physical force. You try for his sake, swallowing the cries that rise in your throat.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, palm marking a slow path up and down your back. “You weren’t too loud, I’m just fussy. You were only being your kind self. I had no reason to be so horrid.”

“You weren’t horrid,” you warble. “I know you’re having a hard time.”

“That’s no excuse.” His palm makes its way back to your shoulders just in time to feel the first little sob escape you. Remus’ grip tightens. “Aw, dovey. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I spoke to you like that.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he murmurs, kissing the exposed bit of skin where your shirt is slipping down your shoulder. “It’s not, and—” He pauses, looking around the room for the first time. “Did you clean?”

You nod against his front, feeling the pained sigh that leaves him.

“Fuck, I’m awful.”

“You’re not.”

“You were cleaning up my mess, and I yelled at you.” Now Remus’ voice sounds a tad raw too. He gathers you closer, stubble scratching your forehead as he kisses your hairline. “My sweet girl. You should have ripped me a new one.”

“You weren’t yelling,” you point out, teasing a bit now, “and anyway, it seemed like you were already being ripped a new one.”

“Still,” he mumbles into your hair. “You lit the lavender candles and everything. You deserve to put me through hell.”

“You’re already going through hell,” you remind him gently, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “I don’t need to help the process along. Do you want some tea, love?”

Remus hums. “I do, but let me get it. Let me get some for you, too, yeah?” He leans back to look down at you. “You want some nighttime tea, darling?”

You’re alright really, but you tell him you do anyway. He looks nearly happy as he drags himself into the kitchen, and he won’t stop mollycoddling you for the rest of the night.

1K notes · View notes

jamespotterismydaddy · 5 months

Text

Tutor Me

michael gavey x bimbo!reader

A/N: this was a request so i hope you enjoy! thank you to bel for putting michael creaming in his pants in my head.

TW: SMUT!! michael is mean and then he cums in his pants, this is the most filthy thing i've written perhaps

word count: 2,099 words

You knock three times on Michael Gavey’s door and flinch when he opens it just as you lay down the third knock.

Was he waiting at the door for you?

He’s almost annoyed by your presence before he takes in what you’re wearing, a tiny, lacy, pink, babydoll crop-top with a slit from your belly button to just below your breasts and the tiniest little white skirt that falls just below your bum. Oh, and don’t get him started on the godforsaken thigh-highs, the things are practically lethal.

“Um, Earth to Michael?” You wave a hand in front of his face to try and snap him back into reality. The poor man is starstruck at just the sight of you.

“S-Sorry yes… come in.” He stutters and steps back so you can walk in.

You brush it off and strut into his room, sitting down on his bed. Oh god how he loves the sight of you on his bed with your skirt riding up ever so slightly and your plush thighs pressed together. You hold your textbook in your lap as he stares at you once again, clenching his hands into fists in an attempt to get his cock to stop rising.

“Are we going to get started?” You ask, trying to snap him out of it once again.

“Started with what?” He blurts out.

“Trig?”

“Oh yes, of course - sorry.” He mumbles and wipes his hands on his palms before apprehensively sitting next to you.

You open up your book and show him the problems you were struggling with.

“These are the questions you’re struggling to comprehend?” He asks condescendingly. “There aren’t many thoughts in that pretty little head of yours, are there?” He seems to get back to his old self with ease.

“Don’t be cruel.” You say with a huff. “Not everyone is as smart as you.”

“Clearly.”

“You won’t speak to me like this if you’re going to tutor me.” You say firmly.

“You can’t make demands when i’m doing you a favour.” He scoffs.

“You’re actually doing Ms. Jameson a favour and i’m sure she would be very disappointed if you couldn’t follow through.”

Michael grumbles something about how he wouldn’t be the one who wasn’t following through but sighs anyhow and begins to look at your attempts that you’ve written under each question. You cross your arms a bit smugly.

“Nothing else to say?” You taunt him.

“I’m trying to be nice…” He trails off when he glances up at you, noticing how your arms are crossed - noticing the way the action pushes up your tits.

You might be a little ditzy but you’re not that ditzy. “Are you really staring at my tits right now?”

“What? No - are you that full of yourself?” He sputters out, his cheeks turning red.

“You don’t spend much time around women, do you?” You giggle.

“Of course I do!” He protests and then grumbles out, “And i’m the rude one?”

“Michael, have you ever kissed a girl?” You ask a little gently.

“I’ve kissed loads!” He claims but his cheeks get redder.

“Oh well then. I was going to offer to teach you but there’s clearly no need.”

He’s silent for a moment, a long moment.

“Out.” He says finally.

“What?”

“Stop fucking with me like that and get out of my room.” He is clearly embarrassed, thinking you’re playing some cruel prank on him.

“I’m not messing with you.” You say but he’s already getting your things together.

“Like hell you’re not.” He shoves your things into your hands and stands to get the door. You put your stuff back down.

“I’m not leaving,”

“Yes you are. I won’t have you making a fool out of me and then giggling about it with your little friends.” He grabs your wrist to pull you to your feet.

“I don’t think you’re a fool. I like you.” You say earnestly.

“Bullshit.” He says but he isn’t dragging you to the door yet.

“I do, Michael. I think you’re cute.” He searches your eyes for dishonesty but the blush on your cheeks makes him inclined to believe you.

“Y-You do?” His eyes soften.

“I do.”

“And you’re not taking the mickey out of me?” He asks one more time, just to be sure.

You shake your head. “I’m not.”

“You really want to kiss me?’

“Only if you tell me the truth about how many girls you’ve kissed… and if you close that door.” You say sweetly.

Michael practically slams the door with haste and proceeds to lock it. “I haven’t kissed any girls.” He admits.

That was easy.

“Can we kiss now?” He asks eagerly and you giggle.

“Sit down on the bed.”

He does so right away, wiping his palms on the covers. You walk over to him slowly, so you can tease him even more. He gulps as you perch yourself right on his lap, straddling both his legs and oh boy do you feel how hard he is immediately. He’s bigger than you expected and you can tell even through his trousers.

“Are you ready?” You ask as you rub your hands up and down his chest and he nods swiftly in response. “Okay…” You whisper out before leaning in slowly to brush your lips gently against his. It’s definitely more than a peck but doesn’t leave him anywhere near satisfied. “How was that?”

“Good but I think we should do it again to be sure.” He says, clearly flustered.

“I think so too, but this time, you’ll open your mouth a bit.”

“O-Okay.” He breathes out and you press your lips against his once again, kissing him with more pressure this time. He opens his mouth and you slip your tongue past his lips to touch his tongue for a moment before pulling it back. He whimpers into your mouth and the two of you begin to properly makeout at this point as Michael grows his confidence. He is an… aggressive kisser so to say but it’s clearly because of how excited he is. You’ve never seen someone act so excited to just kiss you before. You lift his hands as you kiss him and place them on your waist. He immediately begins to squeeze at the soft flesh and he groans at the feeling. He then begins to subconsciously rock you back and forth over his crotch so he can gain some friction. The poor boy is so close to creaming in his pants that he actually whines when you pull away. His lips try to chase yours as you do but you push at his chest to stop him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks nervously as his hands continue to knead at your skin, never straying from your waist.

“No.” You say, finding his concern sweet.

“Then why’d you stop?” He asks and you find it cute at how such an egotistic man is reduced to using puppy-dog eyes.

“Well, you’re always staring at my tits. I thought you’d like to see them for real.” His eyes light up.

“That would um… be nice.” He tries to say casually and you giggle at his response.

You take off your babydoll top and you’ve never felt more flattered. He looks at you like a kid on christmas, as if your tits came gift-wrapped with a bow.

“Oh god.” He groans out, looking mesmerised.

“You can touch them if you want.” You say and you could imagine that his face would be the same as a man who has just won the lottery.

He is almost apprehensive at first as if you’ll slap him and storm off the moment he touches them but he lifts his hands anyhow and places them gently on your chest.

“They’re so soft… and plush.” You can feel his hips moving from under you and when he gives your tits a good squeeze, he also moans, bucking his hips up hard.

Then you realize.

He just came in his pants.

When you glance down, he realizes that you know what just happened.

“Oh god, i’m so fucking sorry. Fuck.” He lifts you off his lap with surprising ease so he can cover his crotch with his hands. He stands up, with his back facing you so he doesn’t have to look at what he expects to be, a disappointed look on your face.

“Michael-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just look at me-”

“That’s so bloody humiliating.”

He is clearly in some sort of a state so you roll your eyes, but then an idea pops into your head. You pull your lacy, wet panties off and throw them right over his shoulder. They land right on the desk in front of him. Michael freezes. He knows right away what they are and reaches to pick them up, getting rock hard again when he feels how wet they are. Without a second thought, he brings them up to his nose and inhales. He’ll for sure have those wrapped around his cock when you’re not around.

You’re laying back on his bed when he turns back around, your thigh-highs still on and your skirt hiked up around your waist. His eyes then fall to your glistening cunt.

“I still need to be fucked, Michael.”

He’s on you in a second, kissing you ravenously as he unbuckles his belt. When his cock is finally out, he pauses.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He’s embarrassed but he’s never had a need for them before.

“I’m on the pill. Do what feels good.” You say, wanting him as much as he wants you.

He does exactly as you advise and does as he pleases, slamming himself in, all the way to the hilt and relishing the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“Jesus - fuck.” You curse.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern as you hold his hips to keep him still.

“Usually when a man - how do I put this lightly… has a massive horse cock, they enter a bit slower.”

“I’ll pull out then.” He says, trying to find a solution as he gets halfway out, dragging a whimper out of you.

“No, no!” You whine, your eyes rolling back in your head from this pleasure of having him inside you.

“No?” He grins a little.

“I just needed to adjust.”

“To my huge dick?”

Great, another thing for him to be cocky about.

“Fuck you.” You murmur.

“I think i’ll be doing the fucking.” He says playfully as he gives an experimental thrust back into you. When he sees your pleased expression, he begins to fuck you harder, loving the way his cock looks slipping in and out of your dripping cunt.

“Mmm, Michael.” You moan when he hits your sweet-spot so he continues to bully the head of his cock against it.

“Getting all dumb again? Think if I asked you a trig question, you’d be able to answer?” He teases as he bruises your cervix.

You squeeze around him in retaliation. “Would you?”

His hips stutter a bit and he gets more sloppy. You remember now that he’s a virgin and you’re impressed that he didn’t just cum right away.

“F-Fuck.”

He begins to truly realize what he’s actually doing. The hottest girl in school is almost fully naked on his bed with his cock balls deep inside of her. He’s going to take full advantage of the situation.

“You’re so pretty.” He says and looks down at your breasts. “Your tits are so pretty too.” He leans down to kiss them, sucking on your nipple. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this. Please let me do it again.”

He isn’t even finished and he’s already begging for more. His pace begins to slow as he keeps sucking on your tits and you know he’s close so you squeeze around him. This time, the action makes him orgasm and thick, hot spurts of cum spill inside you. He lays down on you, happily using your chest as a pillow.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says in a very tired voice. “Did you like it?” He asks.

“Very much.” You say truthfully as you run your fingers through his hair.

He then lifts his head to look at you. “Did you um… cum?”

“Well… no.” His face drops and he feels like he’s failed. He’s also nervous that you won’t like him anymore. “It’s okay though. I never taught you how.”

He thinks on that for a moment and then the sad look leaves his face.

“Let me eat your pussy then.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #saltburn smut #saltburn #ewanverse #ewan mitchell

2K notes · View notes

p3terparker · 8 months

Text

𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!

“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.

you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.

“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”

“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”

“and?”

“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”

“your point?”

“that’s more than half of your paycheck”

“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.

“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”

he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.

you were so wrong.

before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.

“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.

“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.

you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.

“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.

“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.

suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.

“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.

he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.

“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.

before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.

you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.

the police.

“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”

you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.

2K notes · View notes

xfgpng · 1 year

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 -

— : [ nsfw ] yakuza boss toji, arranged marriage, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, pet names, fluff (he’s very ooc with reader, sue me) + breeding kink and mentions of pregnancy

— : wc : 1.9k

when you were first introduced to the zenin clan, you were shy. your father and the head of the zenin family were close, the alliance going as far back to the early 1920’s.

you didn’t ask any questions and like the good and dutiful daughter you were, accepted from the age of 16 that you would be married into their family. you didn’t have any complaints, your parents and older brothers and sisters were always good to you and you felt honoured that your father had chosen you and not one of your sisters.

now, at 23, you were to be married to one of the sons who would rightfully take over the family business as soon as his grandfather passed on.

toji zenin

just looking at him made you squirm. he was big and intimidating and his smile made you feel like he was in on a joke that you didn’t get. still, he was beyond handsome so you had no complaints.

he was always soft with you, different from how aggressive you’ve seen him be to just about anyone else.

“come sit with me baby” he chuckles, watching you leaning awkwardly against the door to his private home office.

“are you busy?” you ask, walking around the large desk to stand next to his chair.

“never too busy for my wife” he smirks, pulling you to sit on his lap. he kisses your temple and then your cheek as he wraps his arm around you.

you can tell that he is actually busy. he has his laptop open and there are stacks of money packed in neat piles on the floor next to his desk.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asks, rubbing your arms softly. it wasn’t necessarily cold in his office but it was cold in the house and the big bed felt empty without your husband.

“not without you” you admit and he laughs. it’s not to mock you, he never makes you feel stupid for your feelings despite everyone telling you how mean and rude he was. you didn’t care, he treated you just fine.

“i’m sorry sweetheart” he sighs, “i’m almost done here”

“toji…” you say, trailing off. you’ve been thinking about this for a month now and you weren’t sure if he was just being nice or if he was just keeping you around to save face.

“what is it?” he asks, turning his laptop off to give you his full attention. he did feel bad for not sleeping with you but he was a busy man and he was still a newlywed. he wasn’t sure how to handle these things all at once.

“i just… do you not want me?” you ask, frowning slightly. you don’t mean to sound so desperate but you were married after all and he hadn’t even…

“what, where is this coming from?” he asks and he seems confused. he turns you in his lap so he can see your face. you really were so cute when you looked so shy.

“you haven’t tried to touch me” you pout, “i know you’re far more experienced than i am but i thought you’d —”

“y/n” he cuts you off, cupping your face gently, “i’ve wanted to fuck you since we were teens”

“hey!”

he laughs, kissing you. you really were the sweetest thing.

“i know you’re a virgin, i would never want to force you into anything unless you’re ready” he says, “and besides”

you look into his eyes and he’s smirking again.

“i’m big, i don’t wanna hurt you” he’s so smug and you’d slap him if you weren’t interested in finding out just how big.

you squirm in his lap, moving your hips against him and he grabs your waist.

“watch it” he narrows his eyes, “i’ll take that as an invitation”

“take me to bed toji-san” you flatter your pretty lashes at him and his jaw clenches. he really couldn’t give a fuck about finishing any work tonight.

“mark your words baby” he warns, scooping you up and heading towards your bedroom.

you kiss his neck, sucking marks into it. you weren’t always like this but you’ve seen the way people look at him and even though he was all yours, you had no problem reminding them that toji was a married man. he was off the market. he was yours.

he grins, titling his head to the side to give you more access and you moan, biting down. he grunts, slapping your ass before laying you down gently on your expensive silk sheets.

“i didn’t know my wife was so slutty” he scoffs, pulling his sweater off in one swift motion. the way he looks standing over you, big and bulky has you squeezing your thighs together.

he licks his lips, pulling your legs apart and leaning down to kiss the inside of your thighs.

“let me get you nice and ready for me yeah?” he bites your thigh in retaliation from your own marking and you gasp, legs falling open wider.

your pretty silk panties are damp and he looks up at you with a smirk.

“that excited for me already baby?” he teases, just to see you try to cover your pretty face with your pillow.

he kisses the inside of your thighs, watching as goosebumps arise. you were so sensitive and he liked that a lot about you. he reaches up to pull your panties down, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy glistening with your arousal.

you knew you were pretty, you’ve never doubted that but the way he looks at you, makes you feel so beautiful. you think your parents made the right choice when it came to toji.

he kisses your clit, earning a soft whimper from you. flattening his tongue against your pussy, he licks a long stripe from your slit to your clit, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud as he slips a wet finger into your tight pussy.

his thick finger feels different from your own but it’s still so good, so much better than you even imagined and you find yourself moaning louder for him, grinding your pussy against his face.

he grins, adding another finger before scissoring you open. it hurts just a little but you don’t want him to stop, the pain doing nothing to stop the tingling sensation you’re feeling all over your body.

“feels good baby?” he asks, licking his lips as he watches you fall apart beneath him. it’s so sexy, the way you squeeze and pinch your nipples.

you look so disheveled and fucked out and it’s all for him. he feels his cock throb and twitch knowing he will be the only person to ever see you like this.

“i’m ready for you” you whine, “please, i want it”

he’s too weak to deny you anything and it should scare him but he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his mouth. a sweet thing like you had him wrapped around your finger and you probably didn’t even know that yet.

he strokes his cock a little, watching your eyes widen when you see just how big he is. you’ve never had sex before but you weren’t exactly innocent. you’ve seen porn and his dick was a lot bigger than the ones you used to see on your screen.

it has you unconsciously closing your legs.

“don’t hide from me sweetheart” he grins, “it’s all yours you know?”

he’s teasing you but he wasn’t wrong. all of toji belonged to you in the same way you were his.

he’s careful when he rubs his thick and veiny cock through your folds. you’re so wet and it helps ease the tension he felt. he would never hurt you unless you asked him to. he would do whatever you wanted.

“ready?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he leans down to kiss you softly.

“yeah” you gasp, “want you”

you’ve wanted him since you learned what it was like to please yourself. a silly teenager who didn’t know the first thing about sex aside from what you were taught.

he takes his time, pressing into you. the stretch shocks you and it’s almost enough to distract you from the pain but it does hurt. when his tip pops through, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

he kisses you gently, whispering praises as he slowly bottoms out. his eyes widen when he looks down and sees the blood. he’s about to pull out when you wrap around legs around him.

he can see you crying but you’re also smiling. he knows it must feel uncomfortable for you but he mirrors your sweet smile.

“you’re so big” you moan, moving your hips on your own and he bites the inside of his mouth. you’re so wet and tight and your velvety walls welcome him home like he belongs.

“don’t” he groans, “please baby, i need a moment”

he slides out slowly, watching your face for any discomfort. he knows how big he is, he’s always taken pride in his body and he can’t help but feel smug about your moans and whines.

he moans, thrusting back into you. he knew it would feel good but this is nothing like he could ever imagine. he doesn’t want to think about the women he’s been with before you.

he was arrogant when he was younger, refusing to get married to you or waiting. he feels like a piece of shit whenever he thinks about you and how loyal you’ve been, despite his reluctance in the beginning.

“more” you beg, gripping his bicep with the hand that wasn’t gripping the sheets below you. your nails make crescent moons in his skin and he knows it’ll leave marks. he hopes it bleeds too, he wants to feel you all over.

he picks up his pace, enjoying the way your moans get louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin is loud and he wonders if everyone in the house can hear you. he hopes so. you sounded so pretty, he would never get enough of you.

“i love you” he gasps, leaning down to kiss you. he feels you smile against his lips before you wrap your arms around his neck.

he slows down and he almost regrets it. he’s so close to busting his load when he hears you whine and then, “put a baby in me” you say, “fuck me full of your cum toji-san”

he bites your shoulder. he really needs to calm the fuck down. everything is so overwhelming and you’re just so perfect it makes him nervous.

he would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. he’s fucked his fist to the idea of breeding you, stuffing your pussy with his cum until it leaks out but he wouldn’t stop, he’d keep going until you passed out.

“y/n” he warns, feeling your clench around him. you were playing a dangerous game and you clearly knew that. perhaps you did know the power you had over him.

“i want your cum” you plead, kissing his jaw and then his cheek, whispering right into his ear, “i wanna feel you for days, please”

he’ll make you regret messing with him like this.

“safe word” he whispers and he’s not sure why he’s even surprised when you don’t look confused or surprised. you smile so sweetly and oh so innocently up at him when you say,

“sōko”

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #yakuza toji #toji smut #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk toji x reader #jjk toji x you #jjk toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #jjk toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji x y/n

4K notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 6 months

Text

SWEET LIKE SUGAR | (05)

summary; azriel is away on a mission, and you get an unexpected visitor. when he returns, you also get an unexpected surprise.

word count; 5988

notes; fun fact!! I got confused about which part I was on because I actually forgot all about the events of this part and started writing for part six before realising!! also the way this is months late... my bad, y’all.

Slumping a little further in the plush seat, your eyes scanned across the page before you for the fourth time. Finally, you’d settled on a book, after procrastinating it all morning. Then, you’d put it off with the excuse of cooking breakfast and eating, making a cup of tea… and then another.

The house felt too big, too quiet, too light without shadows crawling in every corner.

Azriel had been gone since yesterday morning, your first overnight alone without him as he did Cauldron knew what, Cauldron knows where, out in the world. He’d left early yesterday morning while you had still been asleep, waking you with a hand shaking your shoulder gently before the sun had even risen. Dressed in those same dark leathers, strapped head-to-toe with weapons, he’d mumbled about some sudden work from Rhys, and that explanation, along with a delicate kiss on your forehead, had been all you’d gotten.

It had half felt like some kind of odd dream, until you’d woken up, and the house had been far too still without his presence.

He was due back tonight, and you were holding onto that, attempting to focus back on your book. Three hours. Only forty pages in.

You’d hardly made it two more pages, before there were footsteps on the creaky porch, your heart rate shooting through the roof, and a knock. A knock. Azriel wouldn't knock on his own front door. Matter of fact, Azriel would have likely just winnowed right to the door, not walked up the porch.

On light steps, hoping whoever was on the other side couldn't hear you, you peeked up through the hole in the door, noting Elain standing on the other side. You barely knew her, recognising her only from the first dinner you’d shared with Azriel’s family, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of her.

Clicking the door open after only a second or two of hesitation, she offered a beaming smile when your eyes met.

“Hello, Elain.”

“You remember my name!” Her smile somehow only stretched wider, and it was like the sun itself seemed to get brighter as she did. You wanted to scoff. Did it just do that, or was Lucien out there somewhere, glowing every time she smiled?

“Uh… Azriel isn’t here.”

“I know.” She waved a hand, as though that was supposed to be obvious in some way, following it up with a giggle. You wracked your brain, stumbling over every piece of information Azriel had given you on them all over the last couple of weeks. Seer. Elain was a seer. Had she seen Azriel leave and chosen this moment to approach you? “I’m here to see you.”

Apparently so. “Why?”

“I was thinking we could go for a walk in the public gardens together.”

“Why?” The word spilt out again, and she laughed, cocking her head to the side. “I’m, sorry, I don’t— I don’t mean to sound so rude. This situation is just unexpected, that’s all.”

“I know. I would have come sooner, but I was waiting for Azriel to be gone because he’s been playing defence about who gets to see you and when. He growled at Rhysand last week for asking how things were going.” Your stomach flipped at that, flopping in on itself and you rubbed a hand over your ribs slowly, hoping to steady the beating of your heart. “I’m not here for Rhysand, just to be clear. I’m not here for anyone, not even Az. I’m here for me, because I’d like to get to know you.”

“You want to get to know me?”

“Of course. You’re going to be around for a while—”

“I am?” She merely hummed, brows raising a little as humour shone in those doe-eyes, and your cheeks heated. “Seer, right. Of course. Do you want to come in for lunch or something, then?”

“I was thinking we could go for a picnic.” Nudging one delicately slippered foot out from under the hem of her dress, she nudged a picnic basket at her feet with her toes, and you shifted nervously from foot to foot. “It’s a nice day, and the Velaris Gardens are just beautiful. I volunteer sometimes, and I must say, the flowers this year are breathtaking.”

“Alright,” She was like a puppy, someone you just couldn't say no to when she stared at you with those big brown eyes, only seeming to light up more when you finally agreed. Leaving her standing on the porch for no more than a few minutes, you marked the page in your book, swapped out your loungewear for a summer dress and some sandals, and grabbed your keys.

She had been right, the two of you were barely more than a few steps down the sidewalks before the golden rays of the sun truly began to soak into your skin, warming you. It was a lovely day. Hopefully, the sun was shining on Azriel too, wherever he was.

The streets of Velaris were crowded as the pair of you ventured closer to the busier parts of the city, your workplace was packed full, the tables outside almost overflowing, and one of the waitresses you’d come to know waved as you passed by, flustered and carrying a tray of drinks.

Children were playing in the streets, darting from one side to another. Adults were wandering, lovers arm in arms, and friends gossiping. Here you were, wandering alongside Elain, who was humming a tune gently to herself under her breath. Only once you had entered the gardens, the kind old man at the front gate greeting Elain with a smile and a hug, did she speak up once again.

Her tune came to an end as the two of you were walking down the main pathway, weeping willows curtaining on either side, birds chirping overhead and fluttering between branches in the trees.

“I'm happy Azriel has you, you know.”

“You might be the only one.” Your words were bitter, harsh, and you wanted to bite them back in, still not entirely sure where you stood with Elain or to what extent you could trust her, but she only laughed again. “Apologies, that was…”

“Don’t worry.” That casual hand wave again, the metal bracelets on her wrist clinking as she did. One held a sun, another with a moon, a third gold band with an orange gem, and a fourth with a metal tag on a leather band, an engraving too small to make out. “Although, it’s not true. Nesta talks very fondly of you, and while Feyre might not speak up as often, she does not approve of the way Rhysand treats you.”

“Nesta is great. I shouldn’t have said that. And of course, I was out of turn to imply anything at all about the High Lord and Lady. I do—”

“Please, none of those formalities.” She stopped suddenly at the end of the pathway, aiming to turn neither left nor right, but instead stepping out onto the large field before you both, wildflowers cropping up, wandering across the soft ground and leaving you to trail through the grass behind her. “Rhysand can be a stubborn arse when he chooses to be, and Cassian is merely being bull-headed. Mor could be a swaying hand if she chose to, but she’s actively staying out of it, to let things play out on their own. Amren is… well, Amren.”

She had managed to coax a laugh from you, despite your wary mood, and she seemed to stand a little taller at the triumph. Finally finding a spot she liked and placing the basket down, Elain opened it up to pull out a blanket, flapping it out into the light breeze and laying it on the ground slowly. She sat on it, patting the space beside her for you to sit on, and opening the basket only when you had.

“I brought several sandwiches, because I wasn’t sure which you’d enjoy.” She began to unstack each labelled and wrapped meal portion, laying them out around you both until the blanket was covered in food and treats, a wine glass in your hand as Elain filled it with bubbling grape juice. “I try not to drink as much these days.”

It seemed the two of you had moved on from whatever conversation you’d been having, and no matter how much you wanted to circle back around to it, it felt rude to do so when she was clearly leading the chat. She was rubbing a hand over her stomach with contemplation, and you swirled the bubbly drink in your glass. “Are you… are you trying for a baby?”

Her hair glinted in the sun as she tipped her head back, eyes closed and smiling at the sky. “We’re thinking about it. Nothing concrete yet, but, I know Lucien desires children. I do too. We aren’t putting any kind of timeframes on anything, but we’re getting into some good habits and lifestyle changes now.”

“I wish you both the best of luck,”

She only hummed, again, a contemplative sound that seemed so wrapped up in mysterious and knowledge that it made your skin itch. To distract yourself, you took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning over the food options before you as she sighed and pulled herself back from whatever thoughts she had lost herself in. “My happiness with my mate now is so much due to Azriel.”

It was like a ball, bouncing back and forth between the walls, getting faster and faster as she whipped from the topic of Azriel to anything else, like she couldn't decide between acknowledging the elephant in the room or ignoring it.

“I’m happy he has you.”

“So you’ve said.” You smirk, settling on a sandwich at last and unwrapping it.

“There was a while when I thought I might be his happy ending, and he might be mine.” Your chewing slowed, and your focus fixed on her. You weren’t sure why she was saying these things, revealing things about his past or her own, whether it was some kind of game or not. She seemed to read all of this on your face, sitting up more fully to face you, legs crossing before her. “He never fought for me the same way he fights for you, though. Like he can’t help himself. What we had was hidden away and sneaking around in the dark. It was wrong for us both, I see that in hindsight, but with you, he doesn’t hide you. It’s like he wants the whole world to know you’re at his side.”

The food was like trying to swallow a mouthful of cottonwool, choking it down dry and wincing. “I don’t think what we have is the same. What you had must’ve been… well, like a real relationship. You do understand what me and Az have is more like an agreement, right?”

“Are all relationships not just agreements to be together, monogamously?”

You sipped at your drink, buying time to find a reply as she tucked into her own food, surely knowing she’d won this round. “Relationships are different.”

“In what way?”

“In every way!” You said, and she still only managed to look mildly amused, waiting for you to go on. “Relationships shouldn’t start the way ours did, for the intent of mutual benefit and gain. They’re supposed to be about passion and feelings and connection.”

“And do you not have passion, or feelings, for Azriel? Is there no connection?”

“What we have is complicated.” You didn’t know how to define it at all, everything that was shifting and changing so thoroughly was enough to make your head spin, and her mumble only confirmed that she knew she had the upper hand here. “How did Azriel help you to find Lucien if you were… together?”

“Oh, no, we were never together. We snuck around at night and shared heated looks across the dining room table. I wanted to choose my own path for once, not the one everyone was telling me I should be on. The one that led to Lucien. And Azriel, well, he just wanted someone. I wasn’t the right someone, I was just there.” That didn’t answer your question, not at all, but it seemed that if you were going to get the reply you wanted, it was in return for listening to the whole story. “We had stolen moments in dark corners, and Rhysand warned us off one another, put a stop to what likely would have ended in tragedy.”

“Seems like the High Lord is fond of telling Azriel who he can and cannot be with.”

“He had a sister once, you know.” The words struck cold, and you stiffened. Of course, you knew. Everyone in Prythian knew. Had heard of the tragedy before the first war, when the Lord of Night had lost his wife and daughter, leaving only the Prince who would soon take the throne. “She fell in love with someone who she shouldn’t have, someone who betrayed her in the end,”

“Should you be telling me this?”

“—and it broke him for so long. I had no idea about any of this until Feyre told me. He watched his sister get her heart broken before she lost her life, and watched his mate fall for Tamlin and get hurt. He watched Mor hide such an important part of herself and get hurt for centuries. He even watched Lucien pine for me while I was too blind to see him. He has watched love break and harm over the years, watched people abuse those feelings and use them for their own gain. He knows that need for touch more than anyone, and knows the price companionship can cost.”

“Elain,” The food was beginning to taste like ash, this was becoming more of a petition than a chat. “I understand that. I know he’s suffered too, I know he’s felt pain, and I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t excuse him for his cruelty. It doesn’t excuse him for stopping Azriel from finding happiness. He cannot control everyone around him, no matter whether his intentions are good or not. Other people’s happiness is not his responsibility, and not his right. What, only mates are allowed to be together? Do you know how rare it is to find your mate? Azriel has waited five hundred years, he may never find his mate, but does that mean he should never be allowed to know happiness because Rhysand decrees it?”

She stared at you, lips pursed for a long moment, considering all that you had said. And then, instead of getting angry, or yelling, or defending them further, she smiled. She nodded her head and something passed over her face that you couldn't possibly decipher. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Azriel would have fought for me, if I had asked him to. I’m sure I could have put up a fuss about it, but when he was told to stop, he did. That rejection…”

“Led you to Lucien?”

“Gods, no. It made me so angry. Azriel just rolled over and showed his belly because Rhysand snarled. I was mad, beyond words!” Your laughter broke free, surprising you both, until you were laughing together amongst the flowers. “He would barely look at me, wouldn't talk to me at all if not for polite dinner conversation. I’d gone from someone he’d feel up in dark corners to acting like I had a disease!”

“That’s awful!”

“I know! So, I wanted out. I was so stifled. I managed to persuade Rhysand to send me to the Human Lands for a while, to track down some information. Except, of course, I couldn't go alone. I needed an escort, and who better than the Emissary to the Human Lands?”

“This was Lucien?”

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes, slipping away into her memories, a smile forming on her face. “Gods, he drove me insane. He was there all the time when I’d just been pulled from the Cauldron, like a lost puppy. So full of adoration and love. I was expecting that, but that’s not the Lucien who showed up. The one who showed up was so… nonchalant. Like the bond between us didn’t exist, we were friends, more like mere partners on a task. I even made a drunken move on him one night in a gross tavern far from The Wall, and he turned me down! Put me to bed and left a glass of water on the nightstand for me. Acted like it never happened in the morning.”

“Oh, Gods…” Your snicker bought you a mock glare from the flowery female beside you.

“I was even angrier, then. It was like nobody wanted me! So, when I returned, I gave Azriel a piece of my mind. And he let me yell at him for twenty minutes. And then awkwardly held me while I cried for another twenty.”

“Does this story have a happy ending? Well, I guess I know it does,” You offered her stomach a pointed look, “But when do we get there?”

“Fine, fine,” She rolled her own eyes now, “To keep it short, Azriel then offered to help me with Lucien. Managed to trick Lucien into going on our first date, a blind-date set-up, and wouldn't let him leave when he tried to. He then continued to help me sneak around with Lucien behind everybody’s backs, until we were ready to come out with it.”

“When was that?”

“Two weeks before we got married.” You fell to your back, laughter like light spilling from you at that, and she continued to share the details of everyone’s reactions through giggles of her own. “I’d seen all their responses, and I wanted to avoid them as long as possible! That was the last time I ignored my visions to try and put them off. What I see will happen, it's only a matter of time. I can’t avoid it.”

“That must suck for surprise parties and gifts.”

“Maybe, but it was pretty good to see you coming.” She smiled, laying herself down beside you and staring up at the sky overhead. “We will be good friends, you and I. I’ve seen that too.”

You were preparing dinner when you finally heard Azriel arrive. The scuff of his boots on the porch, the rustle of his wings as he entered the house, and then—

Then the slam of the front door. So loud and violent that the house shook a little, trembling the trinkets in the hall that sat on the side unit. You tensed, hearing his loud huff of frustration. Shadows whipped and whirled through the house, a few even making it as far as you were in the kitchen, and you followed them, peeping around the threshold before they were all snapped back in a hurry to their owner.

You saw his retreating back, stomping up the stairs of the house, tense lines and rigid muscles, disappearing in a dark cloud from sight. Another slam made you jump, one of the upstairs doors closing with a bang.

Silence filled the house once again, far heavier and more tense than it previously had been, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth.

It didn't feel like you were welcome, like perhaps this was a moment you shouldn't intrude on. But, was this not part of the reason that Azriel had brought you here in the first place? To comfort him, and be his support?

Minutes ticked by as you contemplated the matter, before deciding that at least checking in on him couldn't hurt. If he wanted alone time, he’d say that, and you’d happily give it to him. The idea of leaving him alone in his suffering created a phantom pain in your chest, spurring you up the stairs and on a search for him.

He wasn’t hard to find, darkness flicking around the doorway of the office, idle shadows striking like dark lightning bolts in the air as you opened the door, only to find Azriel hunched over his desk, wings tense behind his body.

“Hi, Az. It’s good to have you home.”

He only murmured, a vague noise, not even lifting his head from his work as you stood in the doorway. You paced a little further inside, standing by his desk, hoping to catch a glance of those pretty caramel eyes, but he kept his head down. His pen never stopped moving across the paper, his shadows never stopped their stormy swirling.

“I’m going to start making dinner soon, if you want to come down?” He didn’t reply, just a grunt, and you gave up, despite the worry filling you from head to toe. “Alright, well, you know where to find me.”

With that, you left, a pulse of power following you from the room within as soon as you clicked the door shut, back pressed to the wood on the other side. With a couple of deep breaths, you steadied yourself. It was only a matter of time before something came up, everything had been going too smoothly, too perfectly to last. Azriel was bound to snap under all that pressure at some point, and if this was that snap, you could handle it.

Setting a chicken off to roast only took a couple of minutes, basted and seasoned and into the oven, enough of a distraction to pull your thoughts away from the warrior upstairs. It was as you were chopping vegetables that your mind wandered back, the mind-numbing task of slicing peppers and carrots made it easy for your thoughts to trail back to Azriel.

Still, he had not emerged. Not for food, or water, or even some space from that office.

Setting the table didn’t help to distract you either, laying down plates and cutlery and glasses, choosing a bottle of wine and setting it out to air, even going so far as to set down some candles, searching for matches to light them. The house was all but vibrating with power not, steady thumps that occasionally jostled the cutlery on the table with powerful bursts.

Whatever had happened today had Azriel so riled up that his power was all but leaking out, siphons doing little to control the feelings welling inside him now. You’d never known the true strength of his power. Of course, you’d heard of the High Lord’s brothers, the spymaster and the warlord, the three champions of a lethal death-match among young soldiers, who’d come out bonded stronger than ever, with power to match.

Never, though, did you expect to feel the power like this. Feel his emotions ricocheting off of every wall, bouncing through the foundations of the house. Suddenly, it dawned on you just how mighty the ranks of the Night Court truly were, a chill settling into your bones at the thought.

One bad mod, one temper tantrum, and the building could simply crumble to dust. Street lamps would flicker, and animals would scatter. Too many thoughts, too much and all of it became overwhelming as the house continued to tremble to the steady pattern of a heartbeat.

Blowing out the candles as the flames flickered precariously once again, you put them away, not daring to risk them tipping over and creating a far worse problem. You knew the scars on Azriel’s hands, he’d told you the story behind them on one of the many nights the two of you had lay in bed, wrapped in one another’s arms, seeking comfort.

Or perhaps, it had been during stolen moments in the café, when Azriel would come to visit you, sitting and doing his work at one of the tables in the back. He’d take a break only when you’d bring him a fresh pot of tea and a pastry, sit across his lap and talk in hushed whispers during the quieter parts of your shifts before you had to get back to work.

It could even have been one of your late-night walks, or early-morning strolls, while the streets of Velaris were quiet and mist-kissed. Your hands clasped together tightly, his wing shielding around you as you walked together, talking of everything and anything that came to mind.

He’d told you quiet stories of his past, of his present, of his hopes for the future. All about little baby Nyx, Nesta and her journey to finding the Valkyries, what it had been like growing up in the camps, or all the best little villages and towns he’d visited on his worldly travels.

Your heart had been doing crazy things, lately. Crazy, stupid things, like skipping a beat and speeding up and bursting with adoration for a man so new to your life. It did crazy things, like encourage you back up the stairs an hour later, to ignore the tremble in your hands or the wobble in your step, heart calling out to him.

You’d tried to ignore the urge. To sit and read your book, until you’d read the same line over and over while not absorbing a single word, and giving up with a frustrated huff. You re-basted the chicken, and added the vegetables to cook, and even set off some potatoes to boil but all the while, as your body worked, your mind and heart lay with him.

This time, you knocked as you entered, knuckles a soft rap on the door before you pushed it open. Magic thrummed through the air, calling you closer and pushing you away, and you found Azriel, still in the same uncomfortable position, working at his desk. His shoulders were locked and rigid, his head hung, hair messy from constant tangling, and you lifted a hand, brushing it slowly through his hair.

“Azriel…”

He barely even acknowledged you, nothing more than a grunt tossed in your direction as you stood by his side, and a sigh broke free from you. His lips were turned down in a frown, dragging all of his pretty features into misery too, and you hated to see this side of him. Hooking your fingers under his chin, his writing came to a stop as you forced his head to turn, to look up at you. His eyes were dull, a spark of irritation and anger bursting through them as recognition and consciousness flashed back into his lifeless form.

“Azriel.”

This time, a growl tore free, that frown becoming a snarl as he pulled back, gaze narrowing a little. “I’m fucking working. What do you want?”

You froze, staring at him, taking in the exhaustion under his eyes, the pain in his stance, the spinning thoughts you could practically see surrounding him, so much so it must be dizzying and painful. Dropping your hand back to your side, he only returned to work, not sparing you another thought as he chased to catch up with the ones already running him ragged in his head.

Silently walking away, you left his door open, hurrying away from the scene and back to the kitchen. Taking the kettle in trembling hands and filling it up, you set that to boil too, a mug from the cupboard clacking as you set it down on the counter, throwing open the doors to the tea cupboard soon after.

Your nervous fingers skimmed across the labels, searching the front of each one, and it was as you were holding two, undecided on which to choose— perhaps just brew them together?— that the air in the room shifted, and a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, tugging you back into a solid chest.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, face tucking into the crook of your neck, where he left a kiss to your skin. His hold tightened, squeezing you against his body as he slumped down into you. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Az.” You ran a hand along his forearm, banded around your body, feeling it loosen just a fraction as you squeezed. “I’m just so worried about you, I wanted to make you some tea to help, but I couldn't decide which one.”

At that, a whine slipped free from him, nuzzling deeper into your neck, another kiss, and another. Putting down the teas on the counter, you wiggled a little, managing to get him to loosen up just enough to turn in his arms. His forehead came to rest on your own, noses brushing, a sad frown on his lips as his eyes remained closed.

“Az…”

“No more work. If I’m stressed to the point of snapping at you, then it’s too much. I’m sorry. You were just trying to help, and clearly, I needed the help.”

Looping your arms around his neck, he sighed, a happier sound as you scratched at the nape of his neck soothingly. “Stop apologising, Azriel. I appreciate it, but it’s unnecessary. I’m not angry at you, just concerned.”

“I like that you worry about me.” He whispered, deep voice running like honey as he bent enough to pick you up behind the backs of your legs, spinning you to place you onto the kitchen counter, and step comfortably between your thighs. “But you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve better. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Az. I wouldn't be in this relationship if I was going to run. I can handle you, even when you’re not at your best.”

He only answered with a shaky laugh, hands smoothing up your thighs to sit on your hips, squeezing in a series of happy pulses. “We’re in a relationship?”

Elation was clear on his face, no denying it, at your choice of words, and you gave a little chuckle of your own, nodding against him as your noses came back to brushing together, heads resting on one another. Your conversation with Elain flickered through your mind once again, and you wondered if she had seen this, seen you give into her whims and silently admit she was right. If she’d seen this, you hope she picked up on your mental scowl, too. “Well, what would you call what we have?”

“I like ‘relationship’. I like it a lot, actually.”

Throwing your arms over his shoulders, they looped around his neck, and you pushed your face up a little closer to him. “We may not be conventional, Az, but I like what we have. I like our relationship. I think we’re perfect as we are.”

He didn’t need words to respond, not this time, not as his mouth sealed over your own in a gentle, tender kiss. The first kiss you’d ever shared, a timid one, his lips working slowly and cautiously over yours, giving you plenty of time to pull away.

You didn’t want to, kissing him back with just as much tenderness and affection as he was showing you, pouring every feeling you had into it, to make sure he knew just how much you cared. Your heart was beating hard, fast, racing like a drum under your ribcage as you melted into his touch. One scarred hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing across your skin, in tandem with every stroke of his lips.

You pulled back for breath, just to find yourself tangled back up in him, his tongue stroking across your lower lip, teasing the roof of your mouth as you opened up for him. A groan skittered across your tongue from him, a pant for breath, his hand slipping up under your shirt to sit on your bare waist as you tugged on the slight curls of his hair.

When he pulled back, at last, your lips were swollen, your lungs burning in the best way possible, and your head was spinning so much you could barely focus. The world felt fuzzy at your touch, glowing and glittering as you stole a final kiss from his lips, his soft chuckle breaking it.

“Am I still invited for dinner with you?”

“Yes. I’m making chicken and potatoes.” Your smile lasted only a second, before you were sitting upright. Time had melted away around you, disappearing into dusk outside beyond the windows, “Oh, no, the potatoes!”

Pushing him back and hopping down from the counter, he watched with a dazed, kiss-drunk expression as you rushed to the stove, taking off the pan lid and prodding at the potatoes with a fork.

“I amend my earlier statement. We’re having chicken and mashed potatoes, because these have gone soft. Entirely your fault for distracting me.”

“I distracted you?” He mused, sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, tugging you back to kiss at your cheeks, trailing down toward your mouth.

“You know you did.” His only response was a smile. Draining the potatoes was a challenge, what with Azriel plastered to your back like a new limb that served no purpose, and you had to elbow him off in order to finish the food.

While he waited, he tinkered with the dining room table, pouring two glasses of wine and rearranging. When you turned, he’d dug out the candles you’d put away, lighting them with a match once again, and blushing as he laid them out. “I thought they’d be romantic.”

“I like them.” Your cheeks were equally as heated, smiling to yourself as you turned away to check the food.

His distance didn’t last long, as you searched for a knife with which to carve the chicken, he was once again backing you into a counter, his mouth hungrily descending upon your own. Mutters of ‘waiting long enough’ silenced on your mouth as he dove into you, hands on your body once again, trying to tempt you up onto the counter.

“Let me cook, you menace,”

“Just a few more,” Was his barter, and those few kisses passed more and more time, his lips like a high you had to chase, until only the desperate urge to breathe could pull you apart. “Gods, I love that. I love kissing you.”

“I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes, but his smirk stayed, unashamed of his newfound addiction.

“We need to eat, you need food.”

“I have everything I need, right here.” He leaned in again, lips puckered, and you tipped your head his mouth finding the edge of your jaw, and he grunted unhappily at the action, but mouthed at your skin nonetheless.

“How about after dinner, we can go upstairs and do some self-care. I’ll show you all the fancy new creams and skincare I got. We can relax, and cuddle, and read.”

“And there will be more kisses?”

“There will most definitely be more kisses.” You promised, cupping his face and bringing him back for a final peck.

“Then I think I can agree to those terms.” He stared, pulling back just enough to fully take you in. As the urgency in his expression died down with the promise that this affection was not a one-time deal, his face took on blissfulness instead. Running his knuckles across your cheek, his face softened even further as you leaned into his touch, cupping his hand and pressing kisses to his scarred fingers. “You… You are my moon, do you know that? You light up even the darkest parts of life for me.”

His words were like whispered oaths, something too heavy for you to fully comprehend but burned into your mind regardless, and you gave him a sweet smile back. “You are my stars, Azriel.”

“Really?”

“Every last one. Glittering and perfect in the night, full of mystery and hopes and stories. You are my favourite part of the night sky.”

Your heads rested together, dinner temporarily forgotten just for another moment or so, to bask in the revelations of the evening.

Today,

today changed everything for the better.

#SLS #sweet like sugar #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

947 notes · View notes

hewwokitti · 1 month

Text

Brat (JJ Maybank x Reader)

It’s not like you mean to be a brat sometimes it just comes out. You know JJ doesn’t like when you’re rude and you’re good- at least getting better- at controlling your mouth but your facial expressions need work. So that's how you found yourself with JJ’s hand firmly on the back of your neck, pushing you into the chateau after sneering at something John B said.

“How many- How many fuckin times do i have to tell ya to fix your damn face huh? I ain’t playin with you today. Get your ass in there”

Yup you’re screwed.

He bullies you inside, smacking the globe of your ass all the while.

“JJ.. I’m sorry, I-“ you’re cut off as he roughly grabs your face, making you squeal.

“Yeah… Yeah you’re boutta be REAL sorry here soon dolly. You know where I want you c’mon.”

And you do, assuming the usual position on the bed, ass up, cheek against the undone bed. He comes up behind you, rough hand pushing your face into the mattress even more. “I keep tellin you kitty to play nice huh? don’t need you bein a bitch to my friends.” JJ emphasizes his words by pushing your face harder, making you cry out.

“Shh shh shhh” he utters condescendingly, while flipping your flimsy skirt up, rubbing the now exposed flesh. “don’t want them to hear how much of a bitch ya are for papa hmm?”

You screw your eyes shut, whimpering softly. He’s right, the pouges are right outside and any loud sounds would be sure to make their way to your shared friend’s ears.

Your thoughts are cut off by the sharp sting of JJ’s hand colliding with your ass, feeling the flesh jiggle at the impact “Answer me” he barks.

“n-no!!” you wail. JJ grins.

He pulls your head up by your hair, leaning over you, lips pressed against your ear. “Now, you’re gonna be good for me hmm? gonna take this dick then, ya gonna walk this ass,” he grabs a handful tightly, making your eyes roll back, “back out there n apologize”

“Y-Yes im sorry!” you say.

“mmm save it, you’re not sorry yet.” JJ says, as he throws your head back down. “Don’t even wanna look at ya right now, got me pissed the fuck off, that what you wanted?” He unbuckles his pants and ties the belt around your neck like a collar, using the long tail like a leash.

He rams into you, making you let out a garbled scream as he pounds into you, teeth bared giving you his all.

“Yeah, this is what you needed. Gotta get the bitch fucked outta ya don’t ya? Fuckin whore.”

The tight belt around your neck makes your head swim, all you can feel is JJ… JJ… JJ.

“Nah nah nah what’s my name kitty?”

You hadn’t realized you’ve been saying that aloud but with the way your blood circulation has been cut off, you can’t realize anything other than his dick deep in your guts. “D-daddy-y-y” you whine out, speech almost incoherent with the rhythm of his bruising thrusts.

“That’s right kitty, I’m your daddy, I’m your fucking daddy… jesus kitty you’re squeezing the life outta me SHIT you’re such a WHORE”

His harsh words make your eyes roll back, the only thing keeping your face up is JJ’s pull of the belt. The moans you let out are staccato, more like high pitched grunts, long nails clawing at the belt but not tapping out yet.

“O-oh man, you gonna cum kitty? don’t lie to me, can fuckin FEEL it” JJ spits out.

You nod vigorously, unable to speak, pushing back against him as best you can.

“FU-Uck yeah kitty cum with me c’mon” he let’s go of the belt, the rush of blood back into your head makes you squirt around him, screaming his name between gasps of breath as you flop onto the bed. JJ growls as he empties inside, thrusts slowing but not stopping making your toes curl with the overstimulation.

“There ya go kitty hmm? don’t that feel better?” He rubs your back as you let out little gasps and twitches.

After a while, once he’s calmed you down enough, he’s helping you clean up, getting you into comfy PJs.

“Okay mama, you good?” he holds your face in his hands, lifting it up casually to inspect your throat, a red rim of his belt mark makes him feel just the tiniest bit bad. He massages it as you croak out “‘m good now J”

He hums in response, “A’ight then, up you get, there’s some apologies ya gotta make now hmm?”

reblogs n likes apreciated! lemme know ur thoughts are requests

thank you to @rafeysdoll (ofc) @siriusly-star-crossed, @monkichixo for proofreading!

#jj maybank x reader #animatedglittergraphics-n-more #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank fic #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow fic #rudy pankow smut #jj maybank smut

625 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 1 month

Text

youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

16K notes · View notes

gelus-ugs · 1 year

Text

The Hashira when they’re jealous

—————————————————————

Prompt: A festival was taking place in a nearby town. You decided to go with ___, figuring that you could use some time off to enjoy yourselves. You decided to temporarily split up, taking interest in different things. While skimming through the different booths, you happened to run into an old friend. You two decided to catch up, not realizing that it seemed as if you were leaving a certain someone behind…

—————————————————————

Gyomei Himejima

I feel like he isn’t jealous per se, but more of feeling left out

He comes up behind you and doesn’t say anything

He doesn’t want to be rude and interrupt your time with your friend, but he doesn’t want to be excluded

You quickly notice him how could you not? he’s a fkin giant 😭 and introduce him to your friend

They talk and get to know each other for a bit before your friend leaves

You two continue to have fun at the festival, hand in hand and not leaving each other for the rest of the time<3

Sanemi Shinazugawa

I just know this man is violent when he’s jealous

He can’t stand how you’re laughing and smiling with your friend. That’s mean to be him

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and glaring daggers at your friend

If looks could kill, your friend would be deceased. gone. straight to the morgue.

Your friend quickly gets the message and leaves

And if for some ungodly reason your friend doesn’t and continues talking to you, Sanemi will straight up haul you over his shoulder and walk away

You don’t even get the chance to say goodbye 😭

He doesn’t leave your side after that

And by that, I mean his arm is stuck around your shoulder/ waist. The moment you need your entire body to do/view something, he is right beside/behind you

Obanai Iguro

He’s feeling a bit left out :((

He comes up to you and hugs you from behind

He doesn’t wanna be rude and interrupt your time with your friend, but he wants you to know that he’s there

You take notice and quickly finish your conversation with your friend, bidding them goodbye

Obanai doesn’t leave your side after that, holding your hand the as they two of you enjoy the rest of the festival

Mitsuri Kanroji

Miss ma’am is on the verge of tears

She’s so conflicted on what to do

Part of her wants to go up to you and just take you away

But she knows that’s rude, so she’s contemplating on just staying in her spot and letting you two talk

You quickly notice her though and part ways with your friend, making your way over to her

She’s super happy that you noticed her

She’s radiating with joy and clings onto you for the rest of the time :))

Kyōjurō Rengoku

Dear god-

This man is going to be SO loud

He comes up behind you, his aura so..overwhelming

He smiles at your friend, but it was more of a threatening smile instead of a warm one..

“Ah, hello, friend! I’m sorry to interrupt, but I hope you don’t mind if my partner and I part ways!”

Before your friend could even reply, Rengoku is dragging you off 💀

He stays with you the entire time after that

Muichiro Tokito

He’s just silent

It takes you a hot minute to even realize that he’s beside you

You notice that he’s staring at your friend..hard

When he realizes that he’s caught your attention, he looks at you, then makes a face of boredom

Like this —> 😐

It’s basically his way of saying that he’s ready to leave 😭

He wants to have fun with you at the festival! But your friend is making it impossible >:(

You quickly wrap up your conversation with your friend before parting ways

Muichiro is very happy, he has a lil smile on his face :)

Shinobu Kocho

Miss ma’am is ruthless

She doesn’t give a. fuck.

Basically same as Rengoku. Just calmer..and scarier

She comes up to you and grabs your arm before oh so sweetly smiling at your friend

“Excuse me, my partner and I were enjoying the festival together. I hope you don’t mind if I take them back”

Your friend is definitely threatened..

If they aren’t, they got some balls 😭

Either way, Shinobu drags you away and is holding your hand/arm the rest of the time to make sure you’re by her side

Tengen Uzui

STOP

This man is EVIL

He comes up to you and your friend

“Hello! I’m Tengen Uzui, the partner of this lovely fellow right here. Who might you be?”

Tengen looks at your friend up and down judgmentally

Your friend introduces themselves, and Tengen just rolls his eyes and mumbles something about how unflashy they are

“Well, nice to meet you. My partner and I are gonna get going. We have the rest of the festival to experience!”

You’re hauled over his shoulder and he’s walking away without another word🧍🏾

Tengen + His wives

Suma is definitely whining and pouting

Makio is on more of the pouty and petty side, like “Since they seem to like their friend so much, they should just be with them”

Makio definitely denies she’s jealous though 💀

Tengen is complaining about how unflashy it is to abandon your partners - despite it being his idea to separate and look at the booths on your own for a bit 😭

Hina is the most reasonable out of everyone - that doesn’t mean she isn’t jealous though

The way you laughed and smiled with your friend ticked them off just a bit

Makio is shushing Suma and telling her to ‘woman up’

Hina is trying to calm the two while Tengen is just..staring at you and your friend

How could you not notice these four with the commotion they’re making?

You split with your friend and make your way over to them

Suma is clinging onto you for dear life, crying into your chest

Makio - being her stubborn self - refuses to even look at you

Tengen is questioning why you took so long with your friend

Hina is apologizing on everyone’s behalf 😭

You’re quickly overwhelmed, and the others notice and let go of their jealousy

You all spend the rest of the time together at the festival :)

Giyu Tomioka

Bruh

He just stares at the two of you from afar

He doesn’t even do anything but mope and stare at you, hoping that you’ll notice him

You eventually feel his gaze and turn to look at him

He’s just staring at you like —> 🧍🏼😐

You bid farewell to your friend before walking to Giyu

He quickly grabs ahold of a piece of your clothing

(I like to hc that instead of holding hands in public, Giyu is someone to hold onto your clothes. Like the sleeve of your top or the hem of your shirt)

You smile and continue enjoying the festival with him<3

#x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer hashira #Gyomei Himejima #Sanemi Shinazugawa #Obanai Iguro #Mitsuri Kanroji #Kyōjurō Rengoku #Muichiro Tokito #Shinobu Kocho #Tengen Uzui #tengen and his wives #Giyu Tomioka

3K notes · View notes

miniwheat77 · 9 months

Text

Wet. (Bratty!Reader x Brat Tamer!Price.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, spanking, MINORS DNI! (Sorry if I missed any.)

It started during a mission that you hadn’t come along for. You weren’t feeling good and you were a risk so John told you to stay back.

During this mission, he heard his men talking about you. He heard Soap first.

“Yeah, she’s a mouthy little shit I tell ya.” He hears Soap laugh. They’re trekking through dense forest together, they have been for miles. “She can be. Especially when she first wakes up.” He hears another soldier laughs. “Someone needs to tame her, she chewed me out the other day for letting the coffee pot go off. Little brat fuckin freaked out because she had to microwave it.” He laughs. “She didn’t talk to me for the rest of the day over it.” He hears his men laugh, not being able to help himself as he smiles. You really could be a brat but you were an important part of their team.

He recalls a few times he’s heard you complain but it hadn’t been that bad.

But that leads him to now. You were on his nerves all of the time.

You complained about everything, always threw a fit about what jobs he gave you, tried to pawn them off on everyone else and he was getting sick of it.

He could hear your hurried footsteps coming to his office, knowing exactly what was coming next. “Hey Captain.” You smile. “Oh god. What do you want?” He asks. You narrow your eyes. “Rude. I was just going to ask if it’d be okay if I traded watch with Soap.” You ask. “Did you ask him?” He asks. You shake your head. “Not yet.” He laughs. “You know he’s going to say no Y/N.”

You sigh. “Just.. make him trade with me just this once please?” You whine. “Why?” He asks. “Because I wanted to get a moment of peace before I had to go trade with him.” You sigh. He shakes his head, “have a seat Y/N.” He breathes. You sigh, sitting down with a huff. “I don’t know how on earth someone could be in the military and be as whiny as you, but you’ve really taken me by surprise.” He raises his eyebrows, smiling. He can see he’s already getting under your skin. “I’m not whiny.” You grit your teeth. “Yes you are. You’re always complaining about your chores, complaining about your missions, complaining about the food, about the coffee, about your sheets. I mean really, for someone in the military you’re ridiculous.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I think it’s time I teach you a lesson hm?” He smiles. “Stand up.” He nods. You hesitate for a second, but can see how serious he is. You stand up, crossing your arms. “Stand straight up, don’t cross your arms.” He laughs, shaking his head. You sigh, standing up straight and letting your hands fall to your sides. “Now get on your knees.” You look at him in confusion. “Excuse me?” You stutter. “You heard me. Get on your knees.” He breathes. You hesitate for a second, swallowing hard as you slide down onto your knees. He stands up, making his way around his desk. “Turn toward me.” He breathes, crossing his own arms.

“I need you to understand something, darling.” He smiles. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. He crouches down, his face only a few centimeters from yours. “You listen to me. You obey me. Do you understand? I tell you to do a chore, you do it. I tell you to jump, the only question you need to ask, is how high. Do you understand me?” He seethes. You nod your head, closing your eyes tightly. “Stand up.” He growls, grasping a handful of your hair and forcing you over his desk, a gasp leaving your lips. “I- wait! I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” You breathe. “I know you won’t do it again. Because I’m going to punish you.” He breathes. He reaches around your front, hearing you gasp as he unbuckles your belt, tugging your pants completely off, leaving you exposed. “I’m sorry.” You whimper. “You will be.” He breathes. You can feel him pressing into your backside, your body going rigid as you feel his bulge pressing into your ass.

What was he going to do?

“Count for me.” He breathes. You nod your head.

His hand clapping against your ass has you jumping forward. A gasp leaving your lips. “I said count.” He breathes. “O-one!” You breathe. “Captain please, I’m sorry.” You pant. Your knuckles are turning white as you clutch his desk. Your body lurches forward as his hand meets your ass again. “Two- ah!” You whine. He’s relentless, his hits are hard and you know you’re going to be sore for days. When you yelp out a “Ten!” You feel his large hands massaging your backside. Tears are streaming down your face. You feel awful and exposed to him. He leans over you, his entire front pressed up again your backside. “I tell you run, you ask how far. Do you understand me?” He seethes. You nod your head, but it’s not enough. Another slap to your ass and you’re crying out. “Yes s-sir! Yes Captain Price!” You cry. “That’s right. Now go wipe your face and trade for watch.” He steps back.

You’re shaking slightly as you step back. “Can.. can I put my pants back on?” You ask. A smile warms his face. “That’s a good girl. Much better.” He crosses his arms. “Yes you may.” He nods. You hurry to pick them up, hurrying even more to put them on. You rush out of his office without another glance.

Running straight into Soap. “Woah! You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He laughs. You smile nervously, trying to hide the embarrassment in your cheeks. “Uh.. no. Just going to trade watch.”

“I thought about it, if you really want to swap watch, I’ll trade with you.” He smiles. Your eyes widen when you hear those familiar footsteps behind you. “Uh.. no. That’s not necessary, I can handle it. See you later.” You shove passed him, hurrying away. He lets out a deep chuckle as you round the corner. “Seemed to work pretty good eh Cap?” Soap smirks at his Captain.

“Yeah, we’ll just have to see for how long.” He chuckles.

You hurry up to the watch tower, seeing Gaz sitting there patiently. “Hey Y/N.” He smiles. “Uh.. hi. You’re good to go.” You mumble. “Wow? With five minutes to spare? What’s gotten into you?” He laughs, standing up. “Just.. ready to get this over with.” You mumble. He nods his head. After saying goodnight, he disappears. You sit down without thinking about it, standing up quickly with a hiss. How dare he put his hands on you like that? Who does he think he is?

Every time you watch the cameras, you get lost in a daze. You can’t shake the way he made you feel. The way his hands felt, the way your skin crawled, and when he had you get on your knees? What the hell was that?

You can’t help it as you adjust in your seat uncomfortably. What the hell was going on?

—

You don’t know what’s gotten into you.

But the feeling of his hands on you, it’s addicting almost. The hits sting for a second but as your skin goes numb, it sends buzzing right up your spine and into your brain. Down your spine and into your core. You can’t help it. “Y/N. Aren’t you supposed to be on watch?” Captain Price asks. You look at him for a little too long before replying, which pisses him off right away. “No, I asked Soap if he’d trade.” Captain Price rolls his eyes. “What did I say about that?”

“He agreed to it.” You shrug. “Y/N. Don’t make me punish you again.” He breathes. You stare at him, emotionless.

You roll your eyes, turning away from him. As you go to take a step away from him, he’s grasping your shirt. “My office. Now.” He growls. You feel excitement flooding through you, knowing what’s about to come next.

It takes a few spankings before he finally clues into what’s going on.

You’re face down on his desk, you’re whining out a “fifteen!” It’s the fourth time this week.

“The fuck has gotten into you huh? You’re only a good girl for all of a couple days after this and than you’re right back to it. Will your ever learn?” He growls, tugging your hair back, you’re forcing back a moan. “Fuck you.” You growl. Another hit, and it’s when he notices it. The slight wiggle of your hips, squirming. His eyes are glancing down, noticing your arousal that’s slipping down your legs. His eyes are going wide.

Everything makes sense when he finally puts it all together.

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, and you know you’re caught.

“You filthy, filthy girl.” He breathes. “No wonder you’ve been such a bad girl lately.” His fingertips running up your thigh, gathering up the arousal that’s seeped out of your sweet pussy. “You fucking like when I spank you.” He seems completely shocked. “Acting like a bad girl on purpose. Getting under my skin. You’re fucking soaked, dripping down your legs for me.” He shakes his head. “This was supposed to be humiliating. Embarrassing enough to get you back to normal. Treating you like you’re a child.” He laughs, shaking his head.

“You’ll be a good girl, I’ll make sure of it.” A mewl leaves your lips when he spanks you again. You can hear rustling but you don’t know what’s going on, not until you feel his tip pressing at your entrance. A gasp leaves your lips when he pushes inside of you, filling you up to the hilt. He tugs on your hair with one hand, wrapping his other around your thigh, rubbing your clit. You cry out, moving your hips back into him. “If you like it so much, why didn’t you just say that, hm?” He chuckles. “Didn’t have to disobey me and piss me off.”

You turn to look at him, your eyes dark and full of lust. “You hit harder when you’re mad.” You breathe. He lets out a laugh, pure shock. He’s taken so off guard by you. “Yeah? You’re a bad fucking girl.” He shakes his head. He clutches your hips, pushing them into the desk until it’s digging into your hips. Hammering his hips into yours. He’s being rough. And it’s perfect. It’s just what you need.

Your legs are weak and shaky, and you’re soaking him. Barely able to hold yourself up.

“You’re a pathetic thing when you’re all worked up and horny.” He smiles. “So fucking wet for me.”

“I’ll be good.” You look back at him, whining out. “I promise I’ll be good, please.” You clench your eyes closed, holding onto his desk. “Please what? Use your words darling.” He breathes. “Please make me cum. Please let me cum Captain Price, I promise I’ll be good.” Your sudden change in tone has him smirking. “That’s the good girl I’m looking for.” He laughs tauntingly. “Look at you, doing so good. And all it took was fucking that attitude right out of you.” You whine out. John can see your arousal building at the base of his cock, and he needs to step back and really pay attention to what’s going on. He didn’t imagine this, not ever. You’re pretty and bratty. Quite a bit younger than him. He figured you’d start going after some of the younger men on base.

He grits his teeth hard when you clench tighter around him, getting closer and closer to your high.

He’s thought wrong, because here you are, bent over his desk. Crying and begging for more of him, begging him to make you cum. He’s tamed the brat inside of you. All it took was his cock.

He reaches around you, wrapping one of his hands around your throat and forcing you up. Your back pressed into him. “You wanna cum?” He breathes. You nod your head, but know it’s not enough, crying out as he starts rubbing your sensitive nub. “Yes Captain. I want to cum so bad, please please please.” You grasp his wrist, holding your hips steady. “You better let this entire base know. I want you to cry for me, I want them to hear what I do to brats on base. You understand?”

“Y-yes sir.” You whine. “Cum for me.” He growls into your ear.

The build of the climax is right there, the coil that’s wound up tight in your stomach from him stimulating you, snaps completely when he says those three words, his deep, scratchy voice is all it takes.

You’re sobbing when you finally cum. Hands gripping his desk, whining out and crying pathetically as he fucks you through your orgasm, your body is shaking and you’ve got tears streaming from your eyes. He grits his teeth. “Turn around.” He breathes. Sliding out of you with a groan. You obey him immediately. “Knees.” He breathes.

He smiles when you drop to them immediately, completely ready for anything you’re about to give him. “Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out.”

You obey him, dark, watery eyes looking up at him. You’re still breathing hard. The tear stains on your face is reeling him in, pushing him right up to the edge as he pumps his cock quickly with his hand. He groans out, hips jerking forward as he reaches his high. You flinch when you feel the thick ropes of his cum coating your tongue and lips. You stay completely still, sensitive nub throbbing at the sight of your Captain in his fucked out state. He takes a deep breath, smiling. Looking down at you.

“Swallow it.” He crosses his arms. He watches you retract your tongue between your lips, swallowing down his cum. Using your thumb to brush the remnants from your lips and sucking it clean. He bites his lip. Using his own thumb to brush some of his filth from your cheek. “Up.” He breathes. He pushes you back into his desk, lifting you up and setting you on it. He pushes his thumb into your mouth, and you suck it clean, pushing your hips up to the edge of his desk. “Awe.. you want more already?” He chuckles. You nod your head. “I’ll give you more. When you’ve earned it.” He smirks. He uses a tissue from his desk to wipe your face. He buttons his jeans but his belt still hangs unbuckled around his waist and he pushes himself between your legs.

“Quit being a brat. I’ll fuck it out of you if you just come find me.” He chuckles. You nod your head, blush rising to your cheeks. He lifts your chin to look at him. “There’s my good girl.” He smiles. Leaning into you, pressing his lips into yours for the first time. You melt into him, kissing him back desperately.

He can tell you didn’t have too much experience, but he was going to show you everything.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Captain Price.” You blush, looking up at him.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #captain johnathan price #price x reader #cod price #john price

1K notes · View notes

love-quinn · 2 months

Text

RIGHT BACK ━━━ remus lupin x reader

━━━ 𖥻︰ 1899 words

summary: you and remus meet in a way that is predictable for you both; hiding from the rest of the school.

pairing: remus lupin x reader

tags: remus lupin x reader, no pronouns but reader wears a skirt and is referred to as a girl, reader is in the same year as the marauders but house is unspecified, slightly shy reader coming out of her shell, reader and remus are both bookworms, one single swearword

The wooden panelling of the window was sticking into your back but you weren’t planning on moving. The sun was hitting your back in a way that filled you up completely. You had your current read in your lap, curling your neck into a crevice. The East hallway on the fifth floor was pretty much deserted most afternoons, most of the classrooms up there were for classes that no longer ran anymore.

Summer was quickly approaching, and with summer came the end to your time at Hogwarts. You weren’t a hundred percent sure you knew what you were doing after you finished school, you knew the general field, but you didn’t have a dream job or anything.

The pages of your book were browned by the sunshine, and it was hot to the touch as you flipped the page.

There was the distant sound of footsteps, and you shrunk further into your alcove, a little sunset set right into a window that overlooked the Quidditch pitch. The Hufflepuffs were training down there, and you watched them zoom around between pages.

You had nowhere you were meant to be, it was hours until curfew and the wing wasn’t off limits. No danger of getting in trouble.

The footsteps slowed to a stop around the corner, you couldn’t see them with your back pressed into the panelling. Eventually, you heard a breath, and swivelled your neck to see who was there. You recognised him from a few of your classes, and just from around. He was tall, taller than the rest of his friends, with messy hair and a heaving chest.

You weren’t staring at him, but you were definitely looking. He locked eyes with you and gave a sheepish smile. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re alright,” you said gently. “What were you running from?”

He looked embarrassed to have been caught. “Oh, just… you know.”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Right.”

He looked back in the direction he had come. “Don’t think anyone will come up here looking for me. I don’t suppose you mind sharing your hiding spot with me?” He asked softly.

You pulled your knees closer to your chest, giving him enough room on the seat to sit. There was already room, it was deep enough for you both to sit side by side, but you figured he’d want the space. “I’ve seen you around loads,” he said, tucking himself away. His eyes were the colour of honey in the sunlight. He sat cross-legged, sleeves of his jumper pulled over his slender fingers. “Are we in the same muggle studies class?”

You nodded, pleased with the recognition. “I don’t know why you take that class, you already know everything.”

“My mum’s a muggle born,” he laughed, ducking his head. “But she was never able to share that stuff with me as much as she wants to, not with… all this,” he gestured around and your eyes fell to the quidditch team on the ground. They were packing up, dusk was coming soon.

“That’s really sweet,” you said honestly, smiling behind where you held your book against your chin.

He gave you a mirrored grin, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to remind me of your name. I’m normally not this rude, I promise.”

You told him and he snapped his fingers like you’d just given him some sort of breakthrough. “Right, I am awfully sorry.”

You shook your head, leaning against the glass of the window. “There’s no need to be sorry.”

He studied your face for a second, a frown working its way into his eyebrows. “You already know my name,” he guessed.

You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. “I get you guys confused,” you said airily. “You’re either Remus or Sirius.”

He groaned, forehead landing on your knee. “Don’t say that to me, I thought we were becoming friends.” He wiped his hand over his face. “Do I look like much of a Sirius?”

“About as much as you look like a Remus,” you reasoned. That wasn’t entirely true. Remus was soft, it was a cosy name that had some sort of academic background you couldn’t recall. Sirius was a star, you’d learned in mandatory first-year astronomy. You’d never spoken to any of Remus’s friends, but if you had to guess any of them to be named after a star, you’d pick Sirius, charming smiles and chipped nails.

“Godric, just say you hate me.” He said dramatically. “I can never tell him that, he’ll be over the moon.”

You smiled at that, and he brightened. He’d been trying to pull a real, proper, one out of you since he’d arrived. He gave them a lot more liberally than you did apparently. Remus couldn’t really imagine looking at your face and not smiling.

There were more footsteps and Remus sighed. “I’d better head off. You only need one idiot interrupting you.”

You didn’t correct him, though you wanted to. He walked off with the air of someone who wasn’t actively being chased. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you said agreeably, not really believing him. He’d been a lot nicer than you’d expected. All three of them, Remus, Sirius and their friend James, were fairly intimidating. Taller than most of the other seventh-years, James was the captain of the Quidditch team and Head Boy, and Sirius had his own reputation. It was easy to see them as scary. They’d never done anything to you to cement the idea, but they’d also never done anything to disprove it. Not until then, anyway.

Dinner arrived and you took your book back to the Great Hall to eat. You sat with your friends and had almost forgotten about your encounter with the boy until the next afternoon. There was a summer storm coming, heralding in the season, with thick grey clouds off in the distance. For the moment, though, it was as warm as ever, and you were looking forward to being stretched out on the seat and continuing your book. You had friends, roommates, classmates, plenty of people who would be more than happy to let you keep them company after classes ended. But you liked coming up here. Hogwarts was often busy, especially outside, especially in the warmer months. You got to people watch in the quiet, and you didn’t mind it. The large windows gave you a view of the changing weeks without needing to ever alter your routine to suit the weather.

When you reached the seat, though, it wasn’t empty. Remus Lupin was sitting there with his History of Magic textbook open on his lap. You stood there for a moment, right in the spot he had been when you had seen him the afternoon earlier.

“You can sit,” Remus teased, “I don’t mind sharing.”

You sat, flattening your skirt and mirroring his crossed legs. His were a lot longer than yours, but there was more than enough space for you to give him extra legroom. “Oh, how generous.”

“I brought a book as well,” he held it up. “Mine’s nonfiction, though. I get shy. Figured I didn’t want to put you out too much. Not that I have to stay, of course.”

You shook your head. “Like I said, you’re alright. I can’t really picture you being shy about anything.”

He beamed. “Oh, you should see some of my books.” He let out a puff of air like he hadn’t used enough of his breath by talking. “It’s appalling, honestly. You’d lose all respect for me.”

“I don’t care what you read,” you assured him.

He shook his head. “No, it’s the state of them. You seem like one of those people who think books are this sacred thing - which, don’t get me wrong, I agree. But the state of them, I think I’ve written more in margins than I ever have for school.”

You let out a laugh, not too loud for how close you two were sitting, but loud enough that he could make out each individual layer of your voice. You flipped over your book and showed him your annotations that you had made months ago. This was your favourite, and you’d reread it dozens of times. “Ah, one of us I see,” Remus said happily. His whole face lifted when he smiled, like a spring that had finally let go and been snapped back to its original position.

“This one’s blank, I donate my books back to the school at the end of the year,” he explained. You didn’t even realise the school did that, you’d always gotten your books from Diagon Alley at the beginning of each year. You did vaguely remember seeing old potions textbooks in the bottom of the ingredients cupboard.

“Of course you do,” you shook your head, looking down at your lap and stifling a giggle. “Pack of saints, you lot are.”

Remus looked offended. “I resent your insinuation, evil girl.”

You raised your eyebrows innocently. “I’m just saying, I’m pretty sure I saw one of you throw a dungbomb across the hall during breakfast yesterday morning. I find it rather difficult to connect that person to this one.”

“I am multifaceted,” Remus said matter-of-factly. “Besides, that was James. I had no part in it.”

You gave him an appraising look, but he didn’t waver. “Of course. Where do your friends think you are, anyway?”

That surprised him well and truly. You’d been a bit of a surprise as a whole, really. You usually kept to yourself as far as Remus had seen. Even when you were with your friends, Remus had never heard you talk as comfortably as you seemed to be doing with him. He didn’t understand why you’d ask him that. “Here,” he said like it was obvious. It should have been. “With you.”

“Oh,” your eyebrows furrowed and then your face cleared with much deliberation. “Of course, right.”

“Why would I lie about coming to see you?” He asked, looking right at your face. Your eyeline was still in your lap. “I think you’re great. I want to get to know you better.”

You finally looked up at him and he felt the sun hit his face again, despite the fact that it was now hidden behind the impending clouds. “I want to get to know you better, too, Remus.”

He flashed you a wide grin. “I’ll have to ask their permission, of course.” He was teasing you again. You rolled your eyes and uncrossed your legs, stretching them so you could kick him as gently as possible.

“I hope they’ll like me,” you didn’t realise you did until you said it out loud.

“James’ll love you,” Remus said casually, like you were actually planning on meeting him. Neither of you had any intentions on breaking from your new tradition, especially not so early on. “It’s Sirius you’ll have to win over.”

You bit your lip. “I have to like, prove my intentions with you, or something?”

Remus laughed, and the sound echoed around the corridor. “No, no, you could fuck me over royally and he wouldn’t care.” Your laugh joined his and Remus scooched as close as he could in such a confined space. You didn’t mind, your thigh pressed against his. He finally spoke up again after a minute, voice filled with honey. “No, you’re just much prettier than he is.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #remus x reader

465 notes · View notes