Tumgik
#This feels kind of inappropriate and I'm sorry
ivyblossom · 2 days
Text
Still going with this is outrageous and inappropriate love letter to Edmund Pevensie/Narnia fan novel that has already overtaken the word count of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe and is rapidly heading towards lapping it.
I had originally hoped this might be a novella rather than a full on novel, but clearly I hadn't met myself back then. Sweet summer child of one month ago. Self-awareness is a valuable tool.
This is a smutty chapter, which I feel an urge to apologize for, because apparently I have some kind of guilt about that sort of thing. I don't know what that's about, what do I think we're doing here, gardening? I rated it explicit from the start, what do you want, right?
I'm not really a smut writer by nature, that's why everything I write is a slow burn, it takes me that long to work up to that stuff, which I fully acknowledge is valid anyway and doesn't have to have narrative significance, but I can't manage the write it unless I believe in my heart that it is narratively necessary, (see note about guilt above), and then I apologize about it for no reason anyway. But honestly, who cares? Right? I dunno, it's weird that I do this, but here I am. I put myself in this boat, I can't be allowed to feel sorry for myself.
But to be clear, I didn't just show up trying to find a way to make Narnia sluttier, a perfectly reasonable goal but genuinely not mine! I'm not the one who put the god of wine, ecstasy, and orgies in Narnia in the first place, that was C.S. Lewis, I'm just a fanfiction writer standing in front of AO3 asking it to accept her bizarre, canon-respectful Narnia smut that just got so much smuttier. Sorry everyone!
And of course AO3 says, "why are you asking me, just hit post, what is it you think we do here?"
This chapter was also the moment I've personally been waiting for, when one character finally recognizes what I've done to him and what's happening in this story and says, with great gravitas and insight: "—wait, what?" I've been looking forward to that.
Big props to Lucy in this chapter for being the only Pevensie who has a clue, as usual.
Also, I have given Peter Pevensie 90% of all the 1940s slang in this story for some reason, but I stand by that decision, it feels right. Peter is hip to the slang. Pip pip!
21 notes · View notes
almea · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
gimmethatagustd · 4 months
Text
gang shit | knj
Tumblr media
Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.
○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader
○ Rating: Sfw
○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor
○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)
○ Word Count: 1204
○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples
○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨
○ Post Date: January 1, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i
Tumblr media
“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm. 
You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please. 
Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?
“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest. 
You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside. 
“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”
Apparently, that was offensive.
Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip. 
“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man. 
“Did she?” 
“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”
“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…” 
Namjoon doesn’t look convinced. 
You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually! 
“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?” 
“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.
You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck. 
“She’s adorable,” you say softly. 
“She’s weird as shit.” 
Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs. 
“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.” 
“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”
“Yup.” 
Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown. 
“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” 
“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?” 
You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids. 
“Plus, I like being the fun parent.” 
“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals. 
“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you. 
“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.” 
Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised. 
“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence. 
“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.” 
With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are. 
“You’re the one who–” 
“HEY! NO HITTING!” 
Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck. 
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”
Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball. 
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology. 
“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager. 
“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”
It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around. 
“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon. 
“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.” 
“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye. 
“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”
“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist. 
“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?” 
Oh.
“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.” 
Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.” 
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”
Tumblr media
Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.
1K notes · View notes
assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Forget Me Not | 7
You and Azriel begin again.
WC: 5.1k
Warnings: References to past SA, finally some fluff, smut, p in v, dirty talk, oral, really just some lovey dirty scenes
a/n: This is it, we've reached the end of Forget Me Not! Thank you to everyone for supporting my first ACOTAR work on here. I'm currently writing another Az oneshot right now, so stay tuned if you liked my writing :)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
————————————-
Entering Azriel's bedroom felt different this time around. You had grown so accustomed to his absence in the past week that the feeling of him behind you sent shivers down your spine.
The room went from being cold and empty to warm and stifling. Your nerves were giddy under your skin, jumping with insecurity and excitement as the shadowsinger guided you to the middle of the space.
"It smells like you in here," he commented, voice soft and amused.
You tried not to feel embarrassed. "I missed you. I'm sorry if it was inappropriate or rude to intrude on your space. It helped me to be in here."
Azriel turned you around to face him, pulling you closer once more. His fingertips brushed the skin of your face lightly, caressing your chin between his thumb and forefinger before his eyes swept up to meet your own.
"You're my mate," he said gently, and you tracked the way his lips curved around the words. "I want you here. I want this entire space smelling of you in every way possible."
Your breath caught at his words, at the underlying tone and implication. Gods, you wanted to eat him alive. You wanted him to eat you alive.
"Azriel..." you whispered, your lips inching forward toward his own. His eyes dropped down to meet the movement, flicking back up to your own before being drawn to your mouth once again.
"We don't have to do anything tonight."
You knew that. You knew he would wait, would be patient as you navigated your newfound relationship with him and how it intertwined with your trauma. But you also knew that you felt so safe and warm and complete there in his arms, and you knew you wanted him.
"I know. But I want to."
He shuddered, and the hand flexed against your lower back tightened imperceptibly. "Are you sure?"
Looking at the male in front of you, at his kind hazel eyes, his soft pink lips waiting to claim you, his gentle touch so calm and undemanding, you were absolutely sure. You felt that thrum of love flow in your chest, and the reminder that it was going both ways made you melt further into him.
"Yes." You barely got the word out before you brought your lips to his.
He brought you into him gently, his hands summoning you to meet the rest of his body, like a wave rocking you softly in its rhythm until you laid smoothly against the warm shore. You curled into him instinctually, your hands making their way up his chest and onto his skin, feeling and grasping, grabbing at anything they could claim.
He made a small noise into your mouth, as if he couldn't help it, and your knees shook slightly at the reaction. He tasted like how it felt to drink water, and you felt so dehydrated, like you could drown in him and never quite have enough.
You pushed into him harder, but he kept his touch on you light, holding you but not using the strength you could feel in his muscles. Your tongue found the the opening to his mouth, and he let you in seamlessly, letting you guide the kiss, take what you needed.
Mor had always said that Azriel never had issues finding partners. There were rumors about the shadowsinger, about his highly-praised (and well above-average) attributes, his talents in the bedroom, and his wide range of sexual interests. But he wasn't taking that control he was so often associated with. He was allowing you to dominate, to take control, and to do what you wanted to him.
You wondered how often Azriel had given the reigns to someone else in the past, and your heart thumped with appreciation.
Your fingers found his leathers, trying to remove them from his torso as your tongue explored his own. His own scarred hands found your own to help, pulling back slightly to give your bottom lip a nip before pulling the fabric from his body.
You nearly groaned in impatience in the few seconds he was pulled away from you, but then you were able to freely roam his warm skin. He was smooth, and muscled, and scarred, and warm, and you could have licked up his torso if it wasn't for the way he immediately dove back into a kiss, his gentle hands cupping your face and strong forearms framing your neck.
There was more force behind his actions this time, but he kept you in control, allowing you to move the both of you back toward the bed, allowing your own hands to remove your nightgown from your body and letting it drop to the floor.
You pulled him on top of you in his blankets, giving him a kiss before pulling back. His gold green eyes were blazing in the darkness of the bedroom, the starlight shining through the window illuminating the light in them.
"Touch me," you begged him, fingers tangling in his hair.
His biceps cradled where your head laid, and you wanted to turn and kiss up the strong arms, to touch him everywhere you could. But you needed his hands on you, his mouth, his entire body.
"You don't need to beg. I'll do anything you want."
And then his lips were trailing along your jaw, skimming and nipping down your neck, sending your chin tipping back to give him more access. His tongue soothed where his teeth nipped, and his breath tickled your skin in all of the right, sensitive places.
Chills went down your spine as he moved lower, worshipping the skin over your collarbone, down your sternum, until he reached your breasts. His eyes met yours through dark lashes, and you nearly jerked your core up to meet his hips at the look he gave you.
Then his tongue was wrapping around your nipple, and you gasped. He teased and flicked and sucked and grasped, and you were writhing, gripping his hair and sucking in harsh breaths.
You had never felt so sensitive, so willing to unravel for a male before.
His free hand was stroking the rest of your skin lightly, his fingertips just barely meeting your body in teasing motions, sending goosebumps to the surface to meet him. By the time that hand skimmed over your other breast, you were ready to start begging again.
But Azriel was perceptive -- when it came to his surroundings and especially when it came to you -- so he didn't make you wait long nor beg. He changed his direction immediately to your other breast, allowing the cool air to tease the one he had worked while giving equal attention to the next.
You were becoming greedy yourself, your fingers skimming down his muscled back, searching for any part of him you could touch. His broad shoulders enveloped your form underneath him, and you loved it, loved him, loved feeling shielded by him. His dark wings were drawn tight along his back, as if he was focused on you and only you, not allowing any part of himself to relax or benefit quite yet. You wanted to touch them, make him lose his resolve-
His mouth moved lower, traveling along your stomach until he reached the band of your underwear, mouthing along the edge. His large fingers dwarfed the elastic, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the sight. But you couldn't do anything but nod when he looked to you for permission.
He gave your lower stomach one last kiss before pulling the underwear down your legs, his fingers trailing after the fabric as if he were tracing a painting, a piece of artwork he would need to commit to memory.
His lips kissed up your ankle, up your thigh, before landing on your hipbone, your leg resting over his shoulder lightly.
Then his hot breath met your core and your head was tilting back, the anticipation causing your body to shudder and your hips to buck. His strong forearm came down on your hips in response, holding you to the bed before placing his mouth on you.
And gods, did he feel good.
From the moment his tongue lightly traced up your core, you knew that he knew what he was doing.
He didn't dive into you haphazardly, not rough nor starved-- he moved with precision, teasing and flicking, and making you ache and ache and ache.
His free hand gripped the inside of one of your thighs, pushing your leg open slightly to give him more access. And when he moaned at the taste of you, you couldn't help but let out a small cry in response.
"I'd be the happiest male if I could spend the rest of my life between your legs."
He sounded absolutely devastated.
He kissed along your inner thighs once more, one finger stroking up you before circling your clit and moving back down again. Your breathing was heavy with his actions, trying to monitor where he was going, what he was doing, how he was pulling on every nerve ending in your body.
Then his middle finger was easing its way into your entrance, and you were gasping, back arching from the bed.
Your hands gripped the covers as his mouth found your clit again, the dual sensation nearly taking you to your release already. His finger moved inside of you, not necessarily searching but instead attempting to stretch you for him, get you ready if you were to move forward to anything more tonight. The thought nearly made you feral.
"Please-" you choked out. You didn't know what you were begging for, what you were trying to say, but you just needed more of him. All you would ever need for the rest of your life was him.
Another finger prodded at your entrance, and then he was stretching you further, his thick fingers moving and curling inside of you until you saw stars. It was as if the roof to the House of Wind had blown off and you could see the skies above you, Azriel's siphons gleaming behind your eyelids.
He didn't give as he guided you higher, fingers and tongue moving together with a rhythm you would worship him over later. The noises coming from you, the gasping, the whimpering, would have been embarrassing if you could have even heard any of it over the ringing in your ears, over the pure pleasure coursing through your veins.
When you tipped over the edge, Azriel kept himself attached to you, his one arm keeping you in place as you shook against the bed, your fingers gripping his hair and your eyes squeezing shut with the overwhelming pleasure.
It wasn't until your grip loosened on him that he pulled back, drawing his fingers from your core and bringing them up to his mouth. You could barely see him through the haze going through your mind, and the fact that he hadn't done the action as a display for you, but because he wanted to, felt the need to, had you nearly cumming again.
You attempted to catch your breath as he stood from his position, the strain at the front of his leathers nearly making your mouth water. You wanted more, needed more, needed your mate -- all of him.
Your limbs shook with exertion as you pulled yourself to your knees on the bed, reaching for his waistband. His hands caught your wrists, however, bringing them back down to your sides as he leaned down and placed a surprisingly heartfelt kiss on your forehead.
"Another time," he told you. "I just want you right now."
And you were not about to refuse him that.
You let him guide you back down onto the pillows, his hand ensuring one was under your head before letting you go and moving to remove his pants. The sight that greeted you was otherworldly.
You had heard rumors. But he was unreal.
And his slight smirk and posturing said he knew it.
You smiled at him before you could help it, gesturing for him to return to you. He was back on top of you before you could blink, and his mouth was on yours. You could feel as some of the control he always seemed to need took over for him, allowing him to curl his tongue against your own, to bite at your bottom lip, to grip your body just a little harder against his own.
"What do you want, sweetheart?" His voice was gravelly in your ear, and you preened against him, pressing your breasts against his chest.
"You, please, I want all of you. I've always wanted you."
He could have teased you for how desperate you sounded, the breathiness of your voice, the way you lifted your hips to meet his, to try to draw him in. But he didn't. Instead, he pulled his lips away from your own, allowing them to just barely brush before declaring his love for you.
He swallowed harshly before speaking the words again. "I love you."
You nodded, feeling emotions building in your chest, feeling that golden tie blazing bright. "I love you, Azriel."
And in that moment, not even yet physically connected, you knew you and him could get through anything together. You were willing to die for the male above you and he for you. While the past could not be ignored, your future together held hope and promise, and you would latch onto that with everything you had, gripping that golden thread with a vengeance.
"Show me," you told him, your eyes watering despite yourself.
And then his lips were on yours again, and the passion behind the kiss sent your head reeling. You felt the head of him press against you before a slight stretch stung between your legs. You gasped into his mouth at the feeling, at the weight of him moving inside of you, and he welcomed your reaction, peppering kisses over your cheeks as you adjusted.
He was large, but you loved it. Loved every inch of him inside of you. Loved the feeling of him filling you physically and emotionally, the golden thread growing brighter and brighter the further he entered you, the more he filled and touched every part of you.
And the feeling seemed to make its way through your entire body, fire lighting in your soul, igniting pleasure in your core that shot to your fingertips and toes.
You moaned when he finally seated himself all the way inside you, his hands coming up to cup your face and make sure you were okay. You couldn’t help the tears rolling silently down your cheeks, the overwhelming emotion that was building inside of you. You had loved this male for so long, and here he was, connected to you on a whole other level, loving you, and you could feel it coming from deep in his soul.
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, kissing at your temple.
“Yes. I’m just happy.”
He swallowed hard at your words and soft smile, kissing you again before slowly pulling out of you and making his way back in. The movement sent sparks floating in your vision, and his answering grunt was enough to have you grasping at his shoulders.
His hands found your own, pulling them from around him and instead intertwining your fingers together with his, laying them gently by your head as he encased your body with his own. His wings spread above you two like a blanket, like the dark of night and his comforting shadows, and you held tightly onto him.
“I love you,” he told you again, as if he had been trying to hold the words back.
“My mate.” You smiled at him, and his pace picked up. His thrusts went from being slow and sensual to passionate and hard, and you brought your mouth to his shoulder to try to cover the loud noise that escaped you at the pleasure of him.
“You’re so perfect. Everything about you is absolutely unbelievable.”
But what you were feeling was even more so. Every inch of him, every rigid muscle, every texture of smooth and scarred skin, made you want to hold onto him and never let go. A bliss unlike any other followed each of his strokes into you, filling you with love and passion and sending blood rushing to your core.
You were absolutely drenched, his hips moving so easily in and out of the bracket of your legs, that you would have been embarrassed if not for the noises of pure male satisfaction coming from Azriel.
He was enjoying you as much as you were enjoying him, and the thought sent a wave of pride through you.
His thick length continued to spread you open with each thrust, and you don’t think you’d ever felt so satisfied and full. He was touching every part inside of you, from your entrance to your cervix to the bond singing in your chest, he was pushed up against your walls and throbbing.
You cried out as he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you, and one of his hands immediately broke from your own and came down to the peak of your thighs, fingers finding the bud and rubbing and circling until your toes were curling-
“I-I can’t…” you gasped out.
“I’ve got you,” Azriel cooed. “Let me see my mate fall apart. Let me take care of you.”
And you knew he would. He held you tightly, protectively covering you with his own body, his other arm looping around your waist to pull your hips closer to his own.
Then you were rising and falling, clenching so tightly around him you thought you might be causing him pain. But all you could focus on was the bliss shooting through your body, the shaking of your limbs, the white blinding your vision, and the gold gleaming in your chest.
By the Cauldron, you were trembling, your entire body overcome with pleasure, and Azriel guided you through it, speaking sweet words in your hair, hand still moving, hips still pumping.
“Gods, you feel so good,” he grunted out. “My perfect mate. My everything.”
Your mind was ringing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body relaxed and tingling and high up in the clouds. But you savored the moment still, your fingers brushing over the muscles in Azriel’s shoulders, feeling them move and tense under your touch, the obvious strength under his skin causing you to clench around him.
He cursed, spreading your legs further for him and dropping his forehead to rest against your own.
“Where do you want me?”
Everywhere. You wanted him inside you forever, you wanted him buried as far as he could go.
“Inside me. Please.”
His eyes squeezed shut at your words, a guttural moan leaving his throat. You already were imagining how the male above you would look completely unleashed, allowing his kinks and obsession with control to ravish you in the bedroom. Next time, you told yourself, you would break that leash he held on himself, and you would let him completely and utterly tear you to shreds.
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
His rough tone had you bucking your hips to meet his, and then his hands were gripping your hips hard, his fingertips digging into the skin, holding you still and tight until it ached and bruised and you were keening into him.
Heat swelled inside of you as he emptied himself, and you let out a moan of your own at the feeling, both of your satisfied noises melding together to create a sound you would commit to memory.
He was panting and grunting and you could feel your wetness mixing with Azriel’s spend as it leaked its way out from inside of you and around your thighs. He pulsed and pulsed and you couldn’t help your body’s own reaction at the sensation as you clenched in return.
It was overwhelming and otherworldly and you would never get enough of it.
When he was finished, he nearly collapsed above you, catching himself with his strong hands, his hair falling into his eyes. He looked so beautiful. So relaxed and undone and glowing.
You loved him so incredibly much.
He didn’t remove himself from your body, only looked at you as if he couldn’t really believe you were there, that this wasn’t a dream.
You pushed yourself up slightly, lightly pressing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw. He sighed at the action, closing his eyes and savoring it, and you immediately wanted to do it again.
He swallowed before meeting your eyes again. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You grasped him tighter. “Stay.”
He chuckled, and the unguarded, light sound had a smile breaking onto your face in return.
“We have all night together,” he reassured. “Let me do this right.”
His thumb stroked over your cheek, and you wanted to smile, to cry, to kiss him. But you let him do what he needed to feel like a good mate and caretaker. He planted one last soft kiss to your lips before gently removing himself from you. You inhaled sharply at the absence of him and at the feeling of his seed leaking from you, already missing the way he felt.
He glanced down to watch as he dripped down your core and thighs, eyes gleaming at the sight. He was then ripping himself away, as if watching any longer would prevent him from moving from your side, would cause him to dive down face-first into you once again.
You watched him walk to his bathroom, his muscular backside a sight against the moonlight shining in his room. You wanted to run after him, to tackle him to the bathroom floor and ride him again right there.
You controlled yourself, though, and waited for his return. He was gentle as he cleaned you up with a washcloth, covering you with a shirt of his own and placing a glass of water on his bedside table.
Once he joined you under the covers, you turned to face him, hand reaching out for him on instinct, and he welcomed the movement immediately. His arms pulled you close, and the connection felt so natural, as if the two of you had never not been in the others’ arms.
His wings, now relaxed with contentment, circled around the two of you, causing you to move closer to him.
“Rest,” he said finally, voice thick with exhaustion. “We can talk more in the morning.”
You nodded, tracing your fingers down his chest.
“You’ll be here?”
His bright eyes met your own, and your heart clenched as he repeated those words he had said months ago in your bedroom, when you hadn’t believed him for a second, when your body was the exact opposite as it was now, turned away from him and guarded.
“I’m not leaving,” he spoke softly. “Never again.”
And you believed him.
—————————
It was the best night of sleep you had gotten in awhile. You had never felt so safe and comforted than surrounded by Azriel, by his arms, his wings, his covers, and in his room. Everything that was him was all around you, and you basked in it.
When you both had awoken, the shadowsinger watched as you dressed with his heart in his eyes, and you gestured for him to do the same so the two of you could get some food and start your day.
What you hadn’t prepared for, was Cassian and Rhys sitting in the kitchen with smirks on their faces.
“Good morning,” Rhysand commented, his lips shaped into a shit-eating grin as he brought his mug to his mouth.
“Rhys,” Azriel greeted, his voice holding a low tone of warning.
Cassian looked over his shoulder at the two of you from where he was making his breakfast, scrunching his nose as if pretending to smell what you had been up to.
“You know,” he said nonchalantly, “I was right this whole time. I called you two being mates months ago.”
“Technically, Feyre guessed correctly first.” Rhys interrupted.
“We get it.” Azriel moved closer to Cassian’s side, snagging a piece of bacon from his plate. “I was an idiot.”
Rhys gave you a wink at Azriel’s words and you nearly blushed.
“Not anymore, it seems.”
Azriel gave the high lord a look, and Rhysand let out a laugh. “Alright, alright. Just come see me when you have a minute. We have to go over a few things with the Illyrian camps.”
Azriel nodded at his friend and the two shared a heartfelt look between them. You had always admired the trio’s friendship, the way they would lay their lives on the line for one another without question.
“Seriously though, I am happy for you both,” Rhys said, to which Cassian turned around and gave you a look of agreement. “But if either of you are idiots again, I’m kicking you out of Velaris.”
That sounded about right.
“Alright, out.” Azriel demanded, pushing his brothers out of the kitchen.
They bickered back and forth with one another to the door, and you couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your face. This was your family, your friends, and your mate. This was your home.
When Azriel was back in the kitchen, he sighed at their antics, but you could tell he was endeared with his brothers.
He gave you a kiss on the top of your head before moving to the cabinets, pulling out some ingredients to make you breakfast. The sight of your mate cooking for you reminded you of the bond in your chest, the expectation there.
You two were mates, that much was obvious. You felt the golden presence in your chest, you could feel your partner within you should he allow it, but you hadn't technically accepted it yet -- accepted him yet.
And despite how much you loved him, you weren't ready to.
As if sensing the shift in your comfort, Azriel turned to look at you.
"You okay?" He asked, fingers setting the pieces of bread he had gotten out on the counter.
"Yeah, just thinking," you tried to give him a small smile.
"What about?"
His full attention was on you, and your nerves tingled under the weight of his gaze. You both were moving forward, and you didn't want to mess this up, didn't want to make you both take steps backward in your progress, but you also didn't want to be stupid. So much had happened in the past few months, and you wanted to be smart, confident, and sure in each of your decisions. You had so much taken away from you recently, you wanted for once to be able to plan and experience and allow for some natural growth.
"What if I told you I wanted to wait to accept the mating bond?"
Azriel's eyes softened, and you couldn't help the pang of guilt that shot through your chest at the thought of your words hurting him, making him doubt himself and how you felt about him.
"I'll wait however long you need," he told you, voice resolute.
"I want to be your mate. I am your mate," you clarified. "I just think we should give ourselves some time before a ceremony or something. We can go on dates, court a little bit, and I'd like to get to the point where I feel comfortable with us around Elain."
He flinched slightly at her name, at the reminder of what he had done to you, how he had been so focused on the middle-Archeron sister, she had smothered his thoughts of you.
The feelings made their way down the bond, and you knew this was another thing that would take some time. The two of you may be dealing with the repercussions of the past few months for a while, but time would help, and you both were ready to move forward with one another.
"It's okay," you told him gently.
He nodded, giving you a soft doubtful smile, but still he moved to your side and tilted your head up, pulling your lips to his own.
"I love you," he reminded you.
"And I, you."
His lips brushed against your own again, and you leaned in further, wanting to connect yourself further. He pulled back.
"When you want to accept the bond, I will give you whatever you want. A private ceremony, a party celebrated throughout all of Velaris, you name it. You just let me know when."
And you would. In the meantime, the two of you would go on dates, would talk more about your pasts and histories, would go back to sharing your interests and visiting that pastry shop you loved so much.
Azriel would make you feel wanted and loved, and you would make him feel like the kind-hearted hero he was. The two of you would hang around the rest of the inner circle side-by-side. Even when Elain was present and Azriel's guilt thudded through the bond, you would move forward. You felt nothing toward her on his end but regret, and you felt the love being pushed through the bond toward you instead.
It would take time and commitment, but you were ready with him by your side. And he reminded you every day that he was not leaving. The two of you were a package deal now -- hand-in-hand, together.
And a year later, when Azriel walked through the doors of the House of Wind to find you in the kitchen, slaving away at a recipe you had spoken of multiple times, nerves thrumming down the bond and your rosy cheeks showing your flustered state, his heart thumped in his chest.
You gave him a soft smile, your hair messy with your efforts, and your outfit messed up from cooking. And he was so in love.
A bowl placed on the dining table, a candle lit, and a glass of wine poured.
Tears filled his eyes, because he never thought he would deserve this. Not a year ago, and not now.
But you only smiled at him, nodding with encouragement.
And then his tears were falling, his shadows swarming over you until you released contagious giggles, and he was scarfing down the food like a man starved for weeks.
If someone had told Azriel a year ago, that in the very same spot he nearly dropped to his knees at the opportunity to make the broken girl in front of him a mug of tea, he would be granted the blessing of her mating bond, he wouldn't have believed it.
But as the golden thread in his chest pulsed and shined and glimmered with love and renewed strength, he cried.
I'm yours, it spoke to him. And you are mine.
And forever will we be tied together.
2K notes · View notes
tripleyeeet · 9 months
Text
BLEED YOU DRY (1)
SUMMARY: When you awake to find Astarion attempting to drink your blood, you find yourself making a interesting decision.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)
WORD COUNT: 3,273
WARNINGS: Bloodsucking, that's about it?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I'm aware I'm way ahead of schedule for this Haunted Hoedown thing but I'm going to be gone for a few days in the middle of it so I figured I'd get a headstart now to make sure I get every day done but also to build the hype? Maybe?
Basically this is going to be a little twelve part miniseries based on prompts from this writing challenge. I'll make a masterpost either tonight or tomorrow with all the ones I chose, plus some other stuff, so you guys know what's going on!
The prompt for this particular day was "I want to watch you bleed."
CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER
-
The squirming tadpole behind your eye is what wakes you up. Its constant movement, wriggling from edge to edge quickly prompts you to groan and palm your eye, attempting to suppress the feeling as you blink through the darkness. It takes a moment to adjust —to feel that twitch of the creature die down— and when it does there’s a sigh of satisfaction that leaves your lips.
Despite how long it’s been, you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the fact that you have a parasite living inside your mind. Even after experiencing the insertion firsthand, you often forget it’s there, looming behind your retinas, awaiting use every time you run into another. Normally it’s so still, barely inching out of place; sitting there, incubating within your thoughts. Tonight though, something’s urging its presence. Keeping it awake as you close your eyes again, scrunching up your face once it moves a second time.
Angrily, you sit up and turn your head, suddenly catching Astarion’s gaze, noticing the open-mouthed grin he offers in response. 
“Shit.”
You narrow your eyes, focusing on his teeth. How bared they are; ready to strike at a moment's notice despite the only food lying around being you. “Were you just about to bite me?” you ask and almost immediately he attempts to play it off as if it were nothing, scoffing and rolling his eyes. 
“I wasn’t going to hurt you if that’s what you’re insinuating. I was only going for a nibble.” 
You can feel your tadpole squirm. He’s telling the truth, albeit for reasons that are more selfish than he lets on. Despite seeming otherwise, he only wants to drink from you for strength —for energy. His desire to kill you is minuscule, lingering in the shadows of his mind for a potentially later day but surprisingly such notions don’t scare you. Astarion may be a bloodthirsty creature but for now, he’s an ally.
“And you didn’t think to just ask first?” You raise a brow at him, watching his expression twist into something bordering between confusion and interest. 
“I’m sorry, just ask?” he parrots, exploring your features and how they remain calm despite the context.  
He was expecting you to be angry. To throw some kind of fit and deny. It’s what any normal person would do, but considering the circumstances, offering up a little blood to build up the strength of someone on the same side is worth more than the annoyance that forms across your face. 
“Yes, like a normal person,” you chastise, taking in the scowl he offers in response. 
His brows furrow at the sound of your words, angling upwards to appear as sinister as possible, and you can’t help but snort. Something about his constant disapproval is almost humorous at this point.
“Normal? Darling, I’m a creature of the night. A blood sucking fiend. A—“
“Vampire, yes, we’re all well aware given the teeth.” You poke at your own canine, tapping the enamel with open lips just as he swallows hard and narrows his eyes. 
“Yes, well, obviously considering such details I thought it inappropriate to ask. People don’t typically agree to such perilous sounding terms,” he says, voice light and airy. Casual, you might say, despite the context. 
“So instead you were just going to go for it?” You raise your brow, a smirk playing across your lips as he rolls his eyes. 
“Seemed like the best possible option… at the time.” 
You offer him a quiet ah, nodding your head as the two of you remain still, watching each other. Trying to gauge how the other is feeling without the use of your tadpoles. 
Based on what you know about Astarion you assume he’s too stubborn to ask. Now that he’s caught, regardless of whether or not he needs the blood, he’ll never find himself in a position to be desperate enough to say those simple little words. Being a man of persuasion, he’ll most likely just talk his way into it —make it seem like the whole thing was your idea in the first place before diving right in. 
It’d be respectable if you weren’t the victim. If it were Wyll or Gale and you were to bear witness to his deceptions, you’d fully support it. Encourage it even if he were to ask your opinion.
Since it’s you though, you can’t help but feel a bit frustrated. Astarion and you have never been particularly friendly. Having only been around each other for a few weeks, all you’ve talked about is the Illithid and how you plan to get rid of it —what you’ll do after it’s gone. But even the latter conversations hardly spark specific details. Mostly they’re just brief mentions of wanting to run away. To become hidden after the war is over. 
You assume someone’s looking for him based on the way he speaks and carries himself. When you’re on the move he hides within the pack, using you all as a shield while he looks around. Always on high alert, his ears twitch at any foreign sound, his eyes dart to meet the faces of anyone you may come across. At night, he’s always the one to keep watch and over time you’ve come to realize it isn’t just because he doesn’t sleep. It’s because he’s looking for someone. 
Even now, as he stands above you, you can see his eyes looking past you to focus on the underbrush. The way they narrow with focus, pushing past your face. He can sense something that you can’t —feel the eyes of some foreign presence staring at the two of you. 
You’re tempted to use the tadpole to find out what exactly it is but quickly refrain once you hear the shuffling of branches behind you followed by Astarion’s breath of relief. 
“You alright?”
His eyes shut for a split second. His chest heaves a single breath and in that moment you’re struck with an odd sense of sympathy. The feeling of pity laces throughout your thoughts as you imagine Astarion’s life before all of this. You imagine it isn’t great. Considering he’s a vampire, there’s probably at least an inkling of trauma there after living, dying and coming back as something other than yourself. No sane person would be the same after that, especially when taking into account all the symptoms. Before his transition, he could do mundane things. Enjoy the pleasantries of life like the sun and sleeping and food. 
Nowadays, all it seems he craves is blood and power. Flesh of whatever he can get his greedy little hands on. The upper hand in any possible argument. Both make what Astarion is on the surface, but looking at him now, wondering what else lies behind that thick, defensive coat of first impressions, you know there are other things. Nicer ones he refuses to showcase. 
They’re the details of his life before everything. Traits reserved only for himself, and for some uncharacteristic reason, you’re tempted to find out what they are. 
“If you need to…” Trailing off, you feel your stomach twist at the realization of what you’re about to offer. The consequences are high, maybe even too high, but perhaps the benefits could be deemed higher. At this point, you’re certain no one else will give him what he needs. They’re all too noble or guarded to allow Astarion, regardless of his current allegiance, to drink. 
They don’t trust him. And even though you find yourself in the same boat, feeling the skepticism of your words start to echo in the back of your mind, you know it’s the most logical thing to do. Sure, it may not be the right one. By a long shot, it’s probably one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had, but you know deep down that it’s necessary for your survival. To ensure that, when all this blows over and the potential of you going your separate ways occurs, Astarion doesn’t view you as an enemy.
“If you need to drink, you can.” 
His eyes widen only a bit. Just enough for you to notice the slight shock that spreads across his features. “I can?” 
There’s a reluctance you feel begin to bubble up but instead of acting on it you merely shut it down, nodding your head. “Yes, but only a little. Don’t want you bleeding me dry before this whole thing is all over.” 
Somehow that makes him laugh. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.” 
You force yourself not to smirk as he lies through his teeth. Knowing him, he’d suck you dry if it weren’t for the fact that there’s safety in numbers. “Unfortunately for me this isn’t a dream.” 
“Fair point,” he replies, taking a short step forward. After that he slowly begins to crouch towards the ground, watching you closely —focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as his face falls mere inches from yours. “For now though, I promise to do no such thing.”
“And you’re certain you’ll keep it?”  
He hums, a grin pulling at his cheeks. “For now,” he muses. “In the future though…”
He’s so close you can feel his breath. Hot and heavy puffs pushed through a low, far too sultry tone of voice that has you pressing your lips together in a thin line. 
Out of everyone, Astarion’s always been the most intriguing. The one you’ve had this constant back and forth with, debating whether or not to approach or run. Aside from the obvious vampirism, it’s quite obvious that he isn’t like the others. From what you’ve been able to piece together, he doesn’t have a cause. A God or some sort of leader he’s willing to lay down the law for. He’s not noble like Wyll or faithful like Shadowheart. He’s just Astarion. A bloodied wolf all by his lonesome, following the rest of the pack. 
You’re sure he has desires like the rest of them. Wants and needs that’ll inevitably be gifted to him at the end of this —so long as you all survive. Like everyone else, he has a purpose in mind, but what that purpose is is unbeknownst to you thanks to the charm he offers in replacement of the truth. Because of this, he feels almost like a treasure chest. A trove of untold riches kneeling before you, tempting you to open. 
“I’m sure the future will have us far enough away from each other where that doesn’t happen, so I won’t worry.” 
Almost immediately, he can tell you’re fishing for information. The way his brow slightly upturns and the flirtatious grin across his face transitions into more of a smirk. It makes you internally curse, knowing that no matter how hard you try you’ll never beat him at his own game. His way with words is too precise. Too calculated, even for someone like you who grew up convincing people of your lies. 
“You never know. Perhaps after this is all over I’ll follow you. Linger amongst the shadows until the time is right.” 
You can’t tell if he’s kidding. His voice is too convincing to be completely certain, so you merely roll your eyes. “Yes, well, if you do decide to drink me to death, be sure to make it quick.” 
He clicks his tongue, leaning slightly further in. “What would be the fun in that though?”
There’s an unfamiliar ache inside your chest. A rupture of pain that wreaks havoc against your ribcage, pounding. Now that he’s close to you, you can assume it’s always been there but because he’s so good at posing a distraction you weren’t fully aware of it until now. 
“Fair point,” you repeat his words back to him, deeply inhaling just as the tadpole suddenly shifts in tandem with your chest. Ebbing and flowing across your inner eye in time with your shaky breath, you notice Astarion pick up on it, humming knowingly. 
“You fear me, don’t you?” 
Despite the answer being blatantly obvious, your lips remained sealed. Closed off, regardless of the truths the rest of your body spills. 
“It’s quite alright, darling. It’s normal. Creatures of the night are hardly meant to be trifled with.” 
He’s in your face now, a mere hair’s length away, once again baring his teeth. Against your lips, you can feel the movement of his words pushing through the air, coating you in further reluctance as the withheld breath inside you finally releases. As it hits his face, he blinks and pulls away. Ever so slightly giving you the space you need to recollect your thoughts and swallow back the fear. 
He’s terrifying. Even you have to admit that. Unlike Lae’zel he’s more calculated in his intimidation, opting to pull you in —to make you feel comfortable— before he ultimately strikes. Because of this, his threats feel more authentic. Less like simple tactics used to get you to back off. They aren’t words of warning —they’re promises. Declarations of a moment he’s more than willing to make a reality if given the chance.
“Do you want my blood or not, Astarion?”
Your patience is thin. Your chest is in pain and while the tadpole inside unwittingly reaches out to his, driving you both closer as he instructs you to lie back down and get comfortable, all you can feel is temptation. Desire. 
Upon resting your head, you feel the connection between you grow stronger. Inside, your head flashes with icy sensations that trickle down towards your neck. Small tremors of what’s to come as Astarion positions himself around you. 
When he leans down, there’s a moment where you think of retracting. This is all too sudden, you think. A mistake made in hopes of gaining the upper hand. Just moments ago you were made unaware of the full potential of Astarion’s charms, but now that you’re lying beneath him, awaiting the moment he sinks his teeth into your flesh, you can feel the regret begin to build.
“It won’t last.”
Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you look to see him staring over top of you. Both of his arms are planted on either side of your head, bending at the elbow so that he’s low and close. “I’m sorry?”
“The pain. It won’t last long, I promise.”
Strangely enough, he sounds sincere. Not that that means much when a good portion of the words that exit his lips are lies. Still though, instead of returning to that previous headspace you merely breathe and nod, waiting for the moment the tadpole’s connection vibrates with confirmation and Astarion begins to lean in. 
It’s a slow process. Above you, his shoulders shift, pushing his arm to cup the back of your head and expose your neck. Against your skull, Astarion tightens his grip to steady the endless thoughts that race through your mind as you share a glance. It’s small but important. A moment of recognition that tonight is not the night you die at his hand, but merely a preview of what might come if your paths wrongfully cross. 
At the last second, you give him a curt nod and feel him dip, running the tip of his tongue along your jugular before the presence of teeth poke holes through your flesh. At first, it's painful. The blood that’s sucked through your veins pulsates through the open wound in stinging waves as you feign a soft groan. Then Astarion’s grip around your head tightens at the sound, pushing you further into his mouth. Further into the euphoria he takes as the feeling transcends into something numbingly cold. 
Your eyes flutter shut at his continued feed. The feeling in your hands begins to fade even as you somehow find them moving to Astarion’s back, one of them pressing against his shoulder, the other finding purchase in his locks. At that point, you can feel Astarion moan against you, desperation filling his every cell as his teeth shift further into your neck, prompting your eyes to shoot open. 
He’s going to kill you at this rate. To drink you drier than an insect's husk, so, through half-conscious pushes, you tell him to stop. To let go and to keep his promise as you grip the roots of his hair and pull. 
As it happens you see his eyes shift to yours. They’re blown out completely, the whites of his eyes stained red to match his ruby pupils. For a moment, they remain locked to your half-lidded ones, honing in on the way they start to flutter again before you see them tightly close. Then he finds himself ripping away and gasping for air. Coughing through the thick blood that coats his tongue as he stares down at your neck.
The wound is only slightly gaping. Two well-defined puncture wounds sit side by side, but at the moment you can’t feel them. Instead, there’s still only numbness. A space of nothing that lingers between your head and chest, making you shift to sit up and place your hand there, finding more blood. 
“See? Over before you know it, right?” He laughs but all you do is glare. 
“You almost killed me.”
“Ah, yes, but notice the key word being almost.” 
If you weren’t so heavy-headed you’d punch him in the throat. Maybe strangle him if you could get the right angle. “Yes, fine, you’ve had your fun. Now, do you need anything else or am I fine to pass out now?” 
You expect him to say something else. To make some quip about the safety measures of post-bloodsucking, but he doesn’t. Instead, he merely inches closer, staring at you as he reaches for your bloodied hand and pulls it close. 
Once again, your tadpole wriggles against your will. Throughout your skull, it practically dances as Astarion glances down, taking two of your fingers into his mouth with careful precision. If anyone were to see they’d most likely faint at the mere lewdness of it. Frozen in time, your body refuses to move as he laps the blood off your skin, staring at you through hooded eyes that make you want to scream.
You’ve never been in this kind of position before. Sure, you’ve experienced many kinds of intimacy, both sexual and not, but somehow this feels different. Forbidden, in a sense. As if sharing this moment is not only wrong but also against some sort of ethical code. 
At first, you wonder if it’s because blood isn’t necessarily something that’s given. Always taken. In battle, it’s ripped from your skin through the means of injury. Punctured or sliced out of you at the hands of a sword. No bond goes along with it. No mutual agreement that any life will remain once the deed is over. 
But then you begin to think of Astarion. The elven vampire now infected with the Illithid. Like you, he’s been changed. Subtly shifted into something new. Overall, your transformation isn’t nearly as different as his. Before the infection, you could still enjoy the pleasantries of being human, but still, there’s this connection that draws you towards him. It makes its presence known within the tadpole. Throughout the movements that echo in your minds as Astarion cleans the last of the blood away, looking at you with soft eyes.
“I consider this a gift, you know,” he says, dropping your hand, and moving away to stand without so much as a thought. 
You blink back your confusion, trying your best to focus on the genuine-looking smile that appears as he takes a few steps backwards, never breaking eye contact until he telepathically adds I won’t forget it then stalks away. 
2K notes · View notes
oikasugayama · 4 months
Text
YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 2
MDNI, this is NSFW content for adults!!
pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai
Tumblr media
Fukuzawa
ok this one you did NOT expect. you've seen dazai get a hard-on at work, you've heard junichiro and naomi (NOT siblings though they grossly pretend to be) talking about their sex plans after work, but YOUR BOSS? THE PRESIDENT??
he's in his office palming his boner through his clothes when you open the door. you come in like always, using your shoulder to hold the door open as you turn and come in backwards so that the tray of tea you're holding doesn't get knocked over by thumping against the door.
you're almost across the room to his desk by the time you realize that there's a VERY DISTINCT tent in his yukata that he can't decide if he should push down with his hand or not--either way it's obvious that he's hard.
his face is flushed, he's shocked, embarrassed, and extremely apologetic.
you're frozen for a moment, but when he says your name and "i'm so sorry" you decide to pretend like you don't see anything. you put the tray down on his desk, pour him a cup of tea, and tell him to page for you if he needs anything.
you close the door behind you and have to take a moment to gather yourself. he's your boss so there's absolutely no way you were about to come onto him, but god he's so kind and handsome and his deep voice is just so fucking hot. you feel like a creep being there while he was trying to have a private moment, but he was at work, he should have known better than to touch himself when you were scheduled to bring his afternoon tea-- wait, did he do it on purpose? should you go back in? no. no he wouldn't have done that. it must have been an accident.
you tell yourself it must have been an accident and go back to work like nothing happened, though it's all you can think about all day.
Tumblr media
Kunikida
he desperately needs to relieve stress after an incredibly tiresome and busy week. he just got back to his dorm, looking forward to two days off work. he wastes no time settling onto his couch, cracking open his laptop, and playing a random porn video (it helps him get the job done more efficiently because watching makes him cum faster)
he uses earbuds so he doesn't disturb his neighbors, unfortunately this means that while he's in the midst of it he doesn't hear you unlocking his door (he gave you the key for emergencies because you're responsible--you occasionally drop groceries off to him if you're making a trip out and he needs something, much like is happening right now)
you open the door and there he is, vest and shirt unbuttoned, pants and boxers pulled down just enough to get his cock out. one hand works over his length steadily while the other cups his balls. you gasp and drop the bag of groceries, turning and slamming the door closed behind you.
his eyes were closed, though, so he didn't notice until the slam of the door echoed past the sound of the video he watches. when he sees the bag on the ground he immediately knows what must have happened and he's so fucking embarrassed that he feels sick. he hopes you don't think he did it on purpose; he couldn't have known you would come over right now.
he tries to go to your dorm a few hours later, but you don't answer when he knocks, and you don't respond to his texts all weekend.
on monday in the ADA office he waits until you're the only two in the room, then he quietly approaches you and says he owes you an apology.
"for what?" you ask, playing dumb.
"i suspect that when you came by my dorm to drop something off you may have seen me doing something inappropriate. i sincerely apologize that you had to see that. i had no idea you would be coming over."
you take a few seconds to think of what to say, but eventually settle on "it's not inappropriate to touch yourself, kunikida. you're an adult, you can do what you want in your own home"
he blushes deeply, feeling warm all the way to his toes.
"that may be so, but regardless, i apologize that you had to see it. i hope we can forget about this soon."
"oh, I'll never forget," you say wistfully, turning away in your spinny chair. "it's burned into my eyes. every time i close them, there you are......."
Tumblr media
Dazai
he's on the roof of the ADA building, lying in the middle instead of near the edge. he's staring up at the sky, pondering how small he is in such a vast universe.
and then he gets a random surprise boner and thinks, well i might as welllll.......
you were downstairs working when kunikida asked you to find dazai and make him go back to work. dazai tended to listen to you, after all.
you checked all of his usual spots--the couch, under his desk, under atsushi's desk, in the supply closet, in the cafe downstairs, and finally you went to the roof, hoping he wasn't sitting a hair's width from the edge again like he was the last time you found him up there.
when you open the door, you first notice that he's spread out on the ground with his head turned away from you and think maybe he's passed out--then you notice his hips buck up into his hand and his back arch up a little.
the wind carries the sound of his voice over to you, and you swear he just said your name.
"dazai?" you say meekly, and his head whips to the side, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you. he sits up quickly, turning away from you, using his coat to cover his crotch.
"um... kunikida... he wanted me to find you."
"...okay... please don't tell him what I was doing."
"I really, genuinely won't."
"...okay... do you, um... are you, um... did you hear what i, uh.. what i said when you... got here..."
"yeahhh..."
"shit..."
"hm... i didn't know you were into me, honestly," you say, shrugging.
"oh, yeah," dazai says, feeling very vulnerable since you caught him with his literal pants down. "ranpo told, like, everyone. i'm surprised you didn't, um... you didn't know?"
"no, i didn't know... i think you're cute, for what it's worth."
"oh?"
"yeah. you know, maybe we could talk about this another time? i don't feel like this is the most appropriate setting for this conversation."
"agreed... wait, so you're not, like, gonna run to HR or something, or-- i have a chance?"
"yeah, you have a chance. you're a fucking disaster, though..." you turn back to the door, but throw one more sentence over your shoulder. "oh, and dazai, you know we don't have an HR department."
1K notes · View notes
violet-eng · 5 months
Text
Drunk!Loid Forger x wife!fem!reader | NSFW 🔞
Tumblr media
Summary: Loid comes home very late drunk after going out drinking with Franky. He fucks you drunk.
Warnings: Porn with no plot lol. Smut +18. Oral fem! Masturbation. Inappropriate use of belt. Spanking. P i v. Unprotected sex, mention of pregnancy. MDNI
Wc: idk like 3k?
━─━─────────༺༻────────━─━
For Agent Twilight, there was something pleasurable about playing Loid Forger, the carelessness that the peaceful family man could indulge in from time to time without suffering any major consequences...like the night Franky had invited him out for a drink.
Twilight was a man of strong drinks, the kind that go to your head and detach you from reality by ripping your thoughts and every last drop of consciousness from your brain... he was addicted to those drinks because he could stand them, because they were no challenge for the best spy in Westalis.
However... along with the wonderful, sweet personality that the Loid Forger brings with him, certain misplaced platitudes fall upon Twilight. Twilight was a cold man of steady mettle and pure stoicism, a determination that could not be eclipsed by mundane feelings like... falling in love....
The fusion of his alter ego as Loid Forger with that of his original identity as Twilight had led him to the very night he stumbled back to your house, his hand covering his face in search of relief from the terrible headache.
He doesn't turn on the kitchen light because he knows you're sleeping in their shared room, and he doesn't make any noise when he fills a glass of water because he's afraid of disturbing your sleep.
You, his beautiful and efficient wife, what more could he ask for but a devoted woman like you. Fuck... if only his mission would never end... he wouldn't have to leave you.
"Loid..." you whisper from the living room, peering over the wall. He woke you up... you can't see him in this state, he can't talk in this state. If he confesses anything now, if he gets carried away with his feelings for you, anything would jeopardize the mission...
Come on, Twilight, think fast. He shakes his head as he returns to his role as Loid Forger.
"Y/n, my dear. I'm sorry I woke you," the voice is calm, even though your name falls from his lips in a frenzy of emotions.
"You came back late," you add, emerging from your hiding place and walking towards him, who stops breathing for a moment.
The dim light illuminates your figure, you are wearing only one of his shirts, which covers the skin above your thighs, and a pair of white wool stockings. Your hair is down, and it seems to Twilight that you look perfect in this moment, with these clothes and this warm light.
Damn, she looks so...
"I'm... I'm sorry, I went out for a drink with Franky. I didn't think I'd be back so late," he stammers for a moment. What are you doing to him? What effect do you have on him that he can't control his emotions?
"I see," you smile, "your cheeks are pink, you look lovely"
"No... no, of course not," he turns his face away, lips parted and cheeks burning.
What are you doing, Twilight, regain your composure.
"I missed you," you confess, embracing him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting them fall to his stomach, filling his breath with your scent, your lemon and honey scent reaching into the deepest recesses of his mind, taking over his consciousness and his last shred of self-control.
I am Twilight... and I am fucked... I want to fuck her tonight like I've wanted to fuck her for months.
You are completely unaware of the man on top of you. He has carried you into the bedroom in one swift, nimble movement, stealthily and carefully. He has laid you down on the mattress and is now attacking your neck with his lips.
Whiskey breath surrounds your mind, your consciousness is clouded and your heart is disturbed by the frenzy of your husband's kisses, causing sensual gasps on your skin. Loid's hands run through your hair, tangling behind your neck to give him more access to your neck and chin, devouring your surface with hunger and desire.
You are completely immobilized by his muscular body, and by the surprise that his behavior has caused you, you feel your heart in your throat, the beats echoing in your ears, only eclipsed by his moaning when he touches the valley of your breasts through your shirt.
"Loid~" you bite your lip and try to push him away with both hands, but it's no use, Loid is so much stronger than you. Has he always been like this?
"You have no idea how you turn me on," he whispers, almost on the verge of madness, his throat is choked and he holds back his tongue that wants to run all over your body.
He sits on top of you, you find relief in being able to breathe normally for a moment as you see him unbutton his shirt, opening it with a jerk to expose his chiseled abdomen. It's not the first time you've looked at him without his clothes on, but you always marvel at the way his muscles stand out against his skin, the way a few scars frame his pecs and abdomen.
You reach out and touch his skin, the line between his chiseled abs, in a reflexive action. Having him so close, like this, awakens a vulgar side in you that only he knows.
"Patience," he whispers, the tone deep and punctuated with a lustful gasp.
He throws the cloth away from the bed and leaves his hands on the belt of his pants. His movements are desperate yet unmistakable, he is quite skilled for being so drunk.
His pants are on the floor next to his shirt and boxers, he holds the belt between his hands and strokes the leather with his fingers, a dark idea floating in his mind.
"Loid..." you get his attention, only to meet a dark stare, bathed in malice.
"I have plans for you, y/n" his smile is evil, but it turns you on, fuck, you've never seen this side of your husband before.
Loid made love to you, when you slept together he was the soft and gentle type who cared more about your satisfaction than his own. He didn't play with you, he didn't tempt you and he didn't make you beg. His gaze was always loving, full of sincere and genuine affection. His kisses were chaste, almost as if you would break if he came any closer, and his thrusts were gentle, so that he could feel you clearly and not hurt you.
And he didn't cum inside you because he knew you weren't ready to be pregnant, because it was enough to take care of Anya, another child would be too much work for both of you... so when you were done, he bathed you and fell asleep next to you, framing your form with a protective hug and sweet, almost poetic words in your ear until you were both asleep. Loid was a sweet and loving husband...
That was Loid, and it was okay... for you... because for Twilight, it was a nightmare.
He hated going slow, he hated not being able to bite your skin or leave marks between your legs, and worst of all, he hated you moaning a name that wasn't even his. That's why tonight, he would completely take over Forger's identity, kill Loid, and do to your body what Twilight had wanted to do since he first saw you.
"Shit," he grunts as he takes his member in his hand and fucks him with his fist, throwing his head back. Just the thought of fucking you that night had turned him on.
You look at him with great surprise, you've never seen Loid masturbate before and you didn't think the first time would be while he was on top of you. The way his ragged breathing lifts his chest, the way his muscles flex as he jerks his arm, and especially the way he moans your name as the red head of his cock drips pre-cum.
Even though you are completely unaware of this behavior, you can't take your eyes off of him. You slip a hand under your clothes, rifling through your panties in search of your clit, throbbing at the image of Loid above you. Your wrist is gripped by Loid's hand, which leans over you with a tight grip and whispers into your ear.
"Not yet. I haven't given you permission," the voice is unrecognizable, Loid has never used such a low tone.
He undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling the fabric apart as he dips his face between your bare breasts, sliding the fabric under your shoulders as you squirm from the soft bites he leaves around your nipples.
He circles his tongue around the buttons of your breasts as he runs his hands all over you, from your sides to your arms, lifting them above your head. Loid touches you as if he has never touched a woman before.
He takes the belt and holds your wrists above your head, watching you from his position, like a hunter watching his prey. You let yourself be taken in by his bizarre game, maybe it's a fantasy he's wanted to fulfill for a long time and now he has the confidence to do it, you think.
And the reality is that Twilight fucks like this because he knows he's going to fuck you so good that you'll want to push it away with all your might.
He leaves a trail of kisses all over your face, down your chin, your neck, between your breasts and your stomach, around your waist and down to your hips, where he holds the elastic of your panties, fucking soaked with your juices.
He glances at you before tearing the thin fabric, and for a moment you can see the face of an unknown man, his face completely changed by the lust he is releasing at that moment. Leaning back on his elbows, he spreads your legs and rests them on his shoulders, licking his lips as he watches your dripping pussy.
With his fingers he gently caresses your valley and the edge of your hole, his finger grazes your clitoris, eliciting a moan from you.
He looks at you from between your legs, analyzes your face and the surroundings, and you swear his mind is going a mile a minute right now."What are you thinking about?" you ask embarrassed.Loid turns his gaze back to you, the blue of his eyes seeming darker than before.
"I was debating whether to gag you or not, I don't want to wake the kid."
"I won't make any noise... I... I promise," you say hesitantly, because you don't believe your own words.
"I want to hear you hold back," he smiles, the corner of his lip turning to the side.
He dips his face between your legs, his nose brushing your skin, his fingers parting your folds, his tongue moving from the base to the top. You shiver at the passage of his tongue as it begins to wiggle around your clit. It is delicate, gentle, as it always has been... but he seems to enjoy it more than before.
He gasps as he moves his head, his fingers spreading your folds further apart and you feel the warmth of his breath on your entrance. He doesn't tire, he doesn't stop, in fact, with each movement he seems more energetic than before.
He continues to caress your clit with his tongue, sucking on the small nub that makes you arch your back and hold back the moans that want to escape your mouth. You feel Loid's tongue at your entrance and his nose brushing your clit, then a finger slips gently inside you, followed by another.
His fingers are long, calloused, and surprisingly dexterous. He finds your spot almost immediately and you feel like you're seeing stars. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, your button is swollen and he sucks on it passionately while his fingers abuse your sensitive spot inside you.
Your walls close over his fingers, he thrusts in and out, fucking you wonderfully with his digits, while your ecstasy grows in your belly from his skillful tongue.
He lets out a hot gasp against your skin, and the sound of his fingers soaked in your juices floods the room, it seems harder and harder to contain your moans. You bite your lip hard as he makes a soft stroke over your button, his fingers digging deep inside you.
He makes a curious movement, lifting his fingers and seeming to increase his speed, he uses his other hand to mistreat your clit, with his elbows he spreads your legs. You can't close them, you want to, you want him to stop, you feel the burning in your stomach and in your legs. He lowers his face again to the level of your sex, just when it seems he is finished, he continues, his tongue abusing your hole and your clit in perfect synchrony, a hand runs down your belly and catches your breast.
"Loid~" you let out his name in an anxious moan "Ah~ Loid..."
That name, he thinks, his mouth and mind focused on your sex... I am that now, I am Loid Forger, this is my wife, and I will see to it that she can't get out of bed for days.
"Loid," you add, taking his hair between your fingers, your bound wrists making movement difficult.
"Mmh?" he whispers still between your legs, the vibrations of his voice sending electric waves up your spine.
"Since when... you're so good... so good at this," your words are cut off by a dirty moan that slips from between your lips. It hurts, it hurts not to be able to make a sound, it hurts not to be able to scream out how good your husband is eating you right now.
"What do you mean?" he asks, he knows exactly what you mean, but he likes to play with your mind, right now.
His movements are synchronized again and your mind is confused as you feel your orgasm erupt. Loid has never made you come with his tongue alone. And he hasn't lasted this long. It's different, he behaves differently.
You're breathing hard, your mind a whirlwind, and even more so as you watch Loid savor the nectar that has stained his fingers. His tongue dances erotically between his digits, and his gaze is all on you.
"I missed your taste. Much better than whiskey," he says.
You pick up your legs, thinking he is done, and when you go to ask him to untie your hands, you feel him flip your hips. The movement is quick, almost imperceptible, your face is glued to the sheet, and when you go to protest the sudden change of position, you feel him sink deep inside you.
"Loid!" the cry you let out is unmistakable. It hurt, but it also felt so good. He pushes your walls apart with his cock, molding your insides for him. He leaves a resounding slap on your butcheek and you hear him laughing behind you.
"Just what I wanted to hear," he says.
He pulls back, letting the head tease your entrance, your sodden pussy contracting to nothing, and he slips back in, whole, as far as your cervix will allow. You feel the crash of his hips against your ass and his balls slapping against your skin. His hands are anchored to your hips, leaving occasional slaps on your now pink skin. He's ramming you like an animal, the pace is fast and the force is enormous.
You tremble, your face sunk into the mattress, your forehead rubbing against the sheet from your husband's movements, your elbows in front of your head and your hands raised as if in prayer.
"Loid~ please...more...slower," you moan, almost sobbing.
Each thrust is accompanied by moans from both of you, his moans dark in comparison to yours, and in the background the grinding of the bed and the banging of the headboard against the wall. He moves like he's never moved before, fucks you like he's never fucked you before.
His fingers slide under your belly, touching your clit, you let out another scream at the overstimulation, and begin to move your hips in time to his fingers. Your breasts are massaged by his other hand, fully attended.
"Loid, Loid I..." you don't know what to say, the sentences you blurt out are meaningless, pleasure clouds your mind and all you hear is Loid's low growl behind you.
"You have no idea," he whispers in your ear and leans over you. You feel his chest against your back, your pussy shuddering at the change in position and the sudden cessation of his assault. "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to fuck you like this."
He spreads your lips with his fingers and your tongue tastes your own taste and a hint of the whiskey he'd had a few hours ago.
"m gonna fuck you until that little pussy of yours breaks, did you hear me?" he demanded grabbing a fistful of your hair and lifting your head.
"Yes... yes I heard you" you blurted out between moans. You couldn't say no, you didn't want to.
He continues his onslaught, more violent than the previous ones, expanding your walls, opening you wide for him, throwing your head back in an avid attempt to enjoy every nook and cranny of your loins. It feels as if it's going to pierce you at any moment, hammering against your spot abruptly, relentlessly.
You turn your head to look at him in the mirror, head back, eyes closed and lips parted, letting out low moans. His arms, muscles tense as his hands hold your hips, holding you in place. His hips move deftly, forcefully, he knows how to align himself perfectly before entering you again.
And you, your back is arched perfectly, your ass vibrates with each thrust and your breasts jiggle in frenzy from the onslaught of his cock. Your cheeks are pink, your lips swollen, your forehead sweaty.
"So good" you hear Loid, who leaves his hand on the back of your neck, returning to your starting position.
You reach your second orgasm without even recovering from the first, and Loid cums inside you soon after.
"I like that you have stamina," he says, turning your body around without coming out of you, his movements continuing, resuming the frantic rhythm of a few seconds ago.
You don't have stamina, fuck no, of course not. But there's not much you can do when your hands are tied and held down by a burly man taller than you. You tell him you can't take it anymore, you feel like you're going to pass out, but fuck, how good it feels when he caresses your waist while he fucks you in that position.
He hides his face in your neck, strokes your hair, frames your cheek with his hand. Untie your hands without looking, and you finally feel free enough to anchor yourself to his back, marking his skin with your nails and playing with his hair.
Loid's favorite position is missionary, because he can smell you as he penetrates you, because he has access to you in every possible way, because he intertwines his hands with yours above your head and whispers that he loves you, over and over and over again.
"Say my name," he whispers, his voice drowned out by your shoulder, "say my name, please.
"Loid," you whisper again and again as you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands find comfort in his.
He kisses you, kisses you as if he had never kissed you before, as if with one kiss he could suck your soul and keep you in his chest forever. With this kiss, he tears away all your doubts and strengthens the promise of a life together with you.
He will not leave you, he tells you fervently, he swears on his life that he will never leave you, that he will put a child in you and that he will not leave this family.
"I hope you will accept me as I am," he whispers.
"Oh, Loid," you smile as you cling to him in an embrace, your legs feeling your third orgasm approaching,
"Loid~ I love you...".
There are no words to describe this night, it has drained you of all your energy, you feel almost sick, weak and completely out of control.Loid hugs you to his chest and covers you with the sheets, leaving a kiss on your forehead and whispers how well you took it.
"Loid..." you whisper.
"Yes?"
"You don't have to ask me to accept you...I love you in every possible way. If this is your way of telling me that I need to get to know you better, I am ready to do so. If I discover another phase of you, as I did today, I will be more than happy to do so," you look at him smiling, "I have noticed that you have many faces that I don't know, Loid Forger.
Loid Forger, he thinks, the man of a thousand faces... doesn't sound bad.
He knows he'll have to tell you about his mission someday, but now is not the time, not after he's shed his facade and shown you an authentic side of himself. Even though he knows you'll understand, he doesn't want to risk everything, at least not yet... later, when you know Twilight better, he can tell you everything... and stay with you. ....
2K notes · View notes
handmade-witch · 3 months
Text
Another round of Incorrect Quotes Generator x Slytherin Boys:
Part 1 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 4 ☆ Part 5 ☆ Part 6
Mattheo: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.
Draco: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!
☆☆☆
Draco: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?
☆☆☆
Mattheo: I’m not stupid, you know.
[Y/n]: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!
☆☆☆
Mattheo: She's the girl of my dreams!
Theodore: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams.
Mattheo: I have a lot of dreams!
☆☆☆
[Y/N]: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*
Mattheo: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?
[Y/N]: I—
[Y/N]: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.
☆☆☆
Draco: I have an idea.
[Y/n]: A good idea?
Draco: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.
☆☆☆
*Draco is laying on the floor with their eyes closed*
Mattheo: Hey, are they sleeping or dead?
Theodore: Hopefully dead, I hated them.
Mattheo: Yeah, me too.
Draco, sitting up: First of all, fuck you guys.
☆☆☆
[Y/N]: That sounds like a terrible plan.
Theodore: Oh, we've had worse.
☆☆☆
[Y/N], texting Mattheo: Text me when you’re home safely.
Mattheo: I’m home dangerously.
[Y/N]: Stop it.
Mattheo: I’m home lethally.
☆☆☆
Draco: Hey, what have you two been up to?
Mattheo: We were helping [Y/N] write their vows, but they kicked us out because Lorenzo was making inappropriate suggestions.
Lorenzo: How is “Theodore, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?
☆☆☆
[Y/N], talking about Mattheo: Is this a friend of yours, Draco?
Draco: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.
☆☆☆
Theodore: What is wrong with you?
Mattheo: Loaded question. Elaborate.
☆☆☆
Draco: Guess what I'm about to get!
Blaise: On my nerves.
☆☆☆
Blaise: All of your existences are confusing.
The Squad: How so?
Blaise: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you deeply upsets me.
☆☆☆
Draco: How did you convince everyone to betray me? What did you offer them?
Blaise: I just asked if they wanted to embarass you and they all said yes.
☆☆☆
Theodore: Hey, are you okay?
[Y/N]: Yeah.
Theodore: You don't look okay...
[Y/N]: Then stop looking.
☆☆☆
[Y/N]: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Draco.
☆☆☆
[Y/N]: Kill me nowwwww.
Mattheo: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.
☆☆☆
Mattheo: Lorenzo! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.
Lorenzo: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.
☆☆☆
Draco: You read my diary?
Blaise: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.
☆☆☆
Blaise: [Y/N] won’t come out of their room!
Mattheo: Just tell them I said something.
Blaise: Like what?
Mattheo: Anything factually incorrect.
Blaise, shrugging: If you say so.
[Y/N], arriving moments later: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?
☆☆☆
[Y/N]: If you got arrested what would be the charges?
Lorenzo: Theft.
Blaise: Disturbing the peace.
Theodore: Aggravated assault.
Draco: Arson.
Mattheo: All of the above. In that order, probably
☆☆☆
Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.
Blaise, with Theodore and Mattheo behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!
Police: Yes…three.
Blaise: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?
Police: Wha-
Blaise: Lorenzo FUCKING FELL OFF!
☆☆☆
Mattheo: I said ‘No’ to drugs, but they wouldn’t listen.
☆☆☆
[Y/N]: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.
Lorenzo: You and me!
[Y/N]: *tearing up* Ok.
☆☆☆
Theodore: *yawns*
[Y/N]: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.
Theodore: Then you must be exhuasted.
Blaise: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.
669 notes · View notes
aphroditelovesu · 4 months
Text
Yandere Monkey D. Luffy Headcanons (General)
''I can't be the King of Pirates without you by my side.'' — Monkey D. Luffy.
❝ 👒 — lady l: It's 4am and I decided to finish this because I was bored lol. Hope you like it! I'm sorry for any mistake and good reading! ❤️💛
❝tw: obsessive behavior, overprotection, mention of death and torture, unhealthy relationships.
❝👒pairing: yandere!monkey d. luffy x gender neutral!reader.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Monkey D. Luffy has a relaxed and even sloppy personality, in a way. He has a carefree air, who cares about few things in his life. He had a goal, a dream, in mind and he would do anything to achieve it. But that dream became irrelevant after he met you.
He insisted a lot on you joining his crew, literally chasing you, harassing you, until you agreed to become a pirate. Luffy jumped for joy when that happened, because it meant you responded to him, as your Captain.
Luffy doesn't like to give you orders and he will rarely do so, unless it is unavoidable, in which case he will try to be as subtle as possible, as if he wasn't ordering you to do something. He is the Straw Hat Captain, but he is not your captain, not in a personal way at least. Furthermore, he wants you to find One Piece together with him.
He is very optimistic and tends to be very kind, trying to see the good in people, but he is a hypocrite when it comes to you. Even if you were the cruelest person in the world, Luffy would defend you tooth and nail. He's not very fair when it comes to you and anything ''wrong'' you do will be ignored by him, maybe even applauded.
People tend to think he's dumb or at least stupid, but that's not true. He may not be good at things that require greater thinking, but Luffy is anything but stupid. He is quite intelligent in his own way and it shows in the way he acts towards you. His intelligence is characterized by his emotional ability, he is very good at reading you and knowing your needs.
Luffy values you more than the rest of his crew. He loves all his friends, but he loves you the most. He would never say it out loud, but he would sacrifice everyone, send them to their deaths, if you so wish. He wants to make you happy and if the death of those who are important to him is the path to that happiness, so be it.
He is not possessive or jealous because Luffy knows he is your favorite. He doesn't mind other people being around you, but he has his limit. If Luffy thinks, even a little, that he is being replaced in your life, he won't accept it. Not without a fight. He's no stranger to bloodshed or killing, so he'll have no problem doing so.
On the other hand, Luffy is extremely overprotective and clingy, to a frightening degree. He dragged you into this life, but he doesn't want you to be an active participant. The idea, the thought, of you getting hurt sends you into a frenzy of anger and worry. He will kill, cut and even torture the person who hurt you and will only be satisfied when he has finished with the person.
Luffy is quite controlling and curious, he wants to know everything about you and he will find out. He doesn't want any secrets to be kept from him and he may feel betrayed if you try to keep something from him. Did he not give you enough confidence? Don't you know he's the only one you can really trust? Luffy will have to do something about your inappropriate behavior.
He likes to spend as much time as he can by your side, take everything he can and stay close to you as much as possible. His favorite moments together are when you are eating or sitting on the bow of the Going Merry. Luffy is very greedy for food and for you, if there are two things he cares about most and values above all else, it's you and food, in that order.
It's not easy to irritate him, but he gets irritated very easily when you're involved. If someone says something bad about you, feel sorry for that person because they won't end well. Luffy would never go so far as to kill over an insult, but he will get upset and he can be a pain in the ass when he is upset about something.
Luffy often behaves like a child, he tends to go to extremes very easily. He goes from 80 to 180 very quickly, his infectious joy turns to fury very quickly when it comes to you. He loves to entertain you with his rubber body, letting you play or making funny faces. He loves to hear you laugh and will do anything to see you laugh.
He hates seeing you cry, hates seeing your beautiful face wet with tears, your lips pursed as you cry. If Hell exists, then for Luffy it's seeing you cry. He will become furious and demand to know the cause of your sadness and once he finds out, he will deal quickly, often bloodily. If it is one of the Mugiwara, however, he will just be more rigid and will not hurt them.
Luffy is selfless, he is willing to sacrifice himself for you, to save you. He is delusional to a fault, willing to kill anyone who crosses you, including his own friends. Whatever past hurt you may, if he has your approval, Luffy will get revenge for you. No one can hurt you, no one can make you cry. He may not be the most dangerous to you, but to others around him, Luffy will have no qualms.
630 notes · View notes
slut4thebroken · 3 months
Text
Doctor’s Orders
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader
Summary | Jonathan Crane wears a weak dose of fear toxin as cologne to his appointments just to put his patients on edge. He’s particularly fond of how you react to it though.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, manipulation, inappropriate use of fear toxin, obvi, very dubious consent, painful sex, fearplay, HEAVY breeding kink, forced breeding, technically housewife kink?, overstimulation, abuse of power?, ionno lol.
Words | 3.3 k
Notes | Based on this post. Credit to @lasagnebats for the idea. (Lowkey the plot kind of deviated from the whole fear cologne thing tbh but it’s still very relevant so whatever lmao)
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Tumblr media
It’s not mentioned in the actual story but it’s very important for the plot so incase you didn’t read the summary I’m going to say it again lol. He wears a weak dose of fear toxin as his cologne.
“How are you feeling today?” He asked as he walked in and sat down across from you, putting his briefcase at his feet. 
“Better.” You said with a small smile. After only a moment though, your heart started beating harder and faster, and your breathing picked up. You swallowed thickly and cleared your throat before adding, “I- I think.”
“You think?” His voice sent a shiver through your body. You weren’t sure if he was purposely trying to sound threatening, but that’s how you heard it. 
“I…” You couldn’t look at him as your stomach started churning. 
“Please look at me when I'm talking to you.” He sighed, making your gaze snap back to him. “We won’t get anywhere if you continue to overreact to even the simplest questions.” 
“I know— I know. I’m sorry.” You started bouncing your leg incessantly, trying to get rid of some of the nerves you were feeling. “H-how are you?” You asked in return to his original question. 
“Always so polite.” He said with an amused smile. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know… That’s just how I was raised I guess.” You shrugged, not having a better answer for him. 
“It has nothing to do with how terrified you are of upsetting me?” He asked curiously, tilting his head as he looked you up and down. 
“I- I’m not…” You cleared your throat and wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I was just… taught to respect people with more authority than me.” You said nervously. But it was true. You were always taught to show respect to people above you no matter what, especially if they were older than you. 
“I see. And you feel I have power over you right now?” 
“Yes.” You said quietly. Doesn’t he always?
“Well I don’t want you to fear me. These sessions are pointless if you can’t be completely open and honest with me.” You looked away from him again and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I promise you, nothing you say will upset me. I just want you to be truthful with me… So I can help you to the best of my ability. Do you understand?”
“Yes..” 
“Good.” He paused, seemingly coming up with the next topic of conversation. “You’re still having nightmares?” Your blood ran cold and your heart was almost starting to hurt with how hard it was beating. And all just because of a reminder of it. 
“Yes.” You whispered. 
“The same ones? Or something different.” 
“The same… But I noticed that they tend to happen more after our sessions than on days where I don’t see you…”
“Yes, that’d make sense. Since we talk about it, it’s only natural your brain would be thinking about it more.” 
“Right. Yeah— You’re right.” You said through a breath. 
“May I see your hand?” He suddenly asked, making you stiffen. 
“What?”
“Your hand.” He held out his own, waiting for you to place yours on top. With a shaky breath, you wiped your hand on your pants again, then placed it on his open palm. He turned it over so your palm was against his, then let out a quiet hum. Before you could ask what that meant, he grabbed your wrist and held your hand up, watching it tremble. He released you and you placed it back in your lap. 
“Why are you so scared?” 
“It… it's probably just because I started thinking about the nightmares.” That was the only explanation that made sense. It’s not like you’d be scared for no reason.
“Really? What were you thinking about?” You froze and looked away from him, trying to recall, but you never actually thought about them, more so just… remembered them. 
“I… I’m not sure.” You said absentmindedly, still trying to figure it out. He sighed quietly and took off his glasses, examining you closely. 
“I like to think that we’ve grown a bit closer since our first session. Wouldn’t you?” All you could do was nod wordlessly. “Almost like we’re more than just doctor and patient… Do you feel that way as well?” 
“I- I think so.” You said quietly. It was hard to tell right now. 
“Which is why I think we can try something that might work better for you.” He stood up and dragged his chair around the table, the loud screeching sound making you flinch. He sat down next to you and you waited nervously for what was next. 
“I think… if your brain is half focused on something else— something pleasurable…” he placed his hand on your thigh and leaned closer to you, “then you might be able to talk freely about what’s troubling you. What do you think?” Your chest was heaving as you stared at him with wide eyes, not able to respond. It felt like your throat was closing up and the speed at which your heart was beating made it feel like his hand was on your chest instead of your thigh, pushing down as hard as he could.       
“Is something wrong?” He asked once he noticed your reaction. 
“I-” You choked out, not able to say anything else. 
“Hm?” He waited, giving you a chance to respond. When you didn’t, he sighed. “As your doctor, if you’re in a state that leaves you unable to think or communicate clearly, it is my responsibility to do what I think is best.” His hand started snaking up your thigh, moving toward the center as it climbed higher. His touch was burning a trail on your skin and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 
“Just relax. You want to actually make some progress, don’t you?” You gave him the tiniest nod, unable to do anything else. “Good girl. If you can control your emotions, then we can talk like civilized people, but for now, we’re going to have to try this.” You weren't even sure what exactly was making you feel this way, but you trusted Dr. Crane. He would only do what’s best for you. 
“Take off your pants.” He suddenly ordered, making your body go completely rigid. “I won’t repeat myself.” He warned and you immediately scrambled to take them off. Once they were on the floor, he grabbed your hips and guided you so that you were straddling his thighs, sitting on his lap. “Now, this might be a bit overwhelming for you, so I don’t mind if you need to keep your face buried against my chest or neck. Like this,” he gently grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into him, “see?” 
“Thank you.” You whispered, bringing your hands up the grab at his suit jacket. It felt like your entire body was trembling now. “Dr. Crane, I- I don’t feel very good.”
“Shh. Your body’s just excited. That’s why your heart is racing and your breathing is shallow.” He explained calmly. You’ve never felt this ‘excited’ before in your life. “Are you going to let me do my job now?” You nodded, burying your face into the crook of his neck to comfort yourself. “Thank you.” His hands started dragging up and down your thighs, just getting you used to his touch, but all it was doing was making you more anxious. His fingertips felt like claws on your hypersensitive body, but when you looked down, you saw no marks left behind. 
“I know you’re excited but you need to try and calm down.” He said calmly. “Take a deep breath through your nose, then out through your mouth.” You complied, though it wasn’t nearly as slow as he actually wanted. But it was an improvement. “Again. Deeper.” You inhaled again, trying to let the smell and warmth of his body soothe you. But it was like the deep breaths were making everything worse. 
“Dr. Crane, it’s not— I…” He sighed and your stomach churned when you realized he was disappointed in you. “No- I’m sorry. I’ll try again. I’ll keep trying.” You rushed out, taking more deep breaths. 
“That’s a good girl. Nice and slow.” His hands snaked up your thighs to your hips, then up the sides of your body, under your shirt. 
“W-what are you doing?” You choked out, when he dragged his hands up even more until he was touching your breasts. 
“Just feeling your heartbeat.” He explained. You gasped when he gently squeezed your breasts, groping them in a way that made your entire body feel hot. 
“Dr. Crane?” You whimpered and he shushed you. So you clung to his suit jacket and buried your face into the crook of his neck even more, seeking comfort. 
“I’ll need to remove your shirt. It’s obstructing my examination.” You hesitantly agreed and he pulled it over your head, then guided you back into the same position, now only in a pair of panties. “Deep breaths.” He reminded you as he continued. He only groped you for a few seconds before focusing his attention on your nipples. You let out a strangled moan when he gently pinched, rolling them between his fingers. You’ve never been overly sensitive there before, but right now, just the barest touch sent a shock through your body. 
“Your heart is racing.” He commented, flattening his hands on your chest and sliding them down your stomach. He reached your hips and gripped them tightly, then pulled them forward to grind your clothed heat on his bulge. You gasped at the sudden movement and when you felt the obvious sign of his arousal. 
“When’s the last time you’ve been fucked?” His tone remained the same; clinical, unemotional. It took you a moment to register his question, but once you did, a blush took over your face. “You’ve been a patient here for a few months now so I’m assuming at least a few months ago?” All the work you did to calm your breathing was gone in an instant. Words couldn’t form in your mouth, so you just nodded against his chest. “How long before that?” 
“I… I don’t remember.” You choked out, finally able to speak. 
“Poor thing. It’s been that long since you’ve been filled?” He cooed with faux sympathy. 
“Dr. Crane.” You sobbed, fisting his suit even tighter to ground yourself. He was still guiding your hips and you started to feel arousal pooling in your stomach. 
“Is that why you’re not making any progress? Your cunt’s been craving a cock so bad, you can’t even think?” You whined and started moving your hips on your own now, desperate for more. “Yeah I think that is the reason. You’re in your prime child bearing years, it’s only natural you’d be longing to breed.” You let out a strangled moan, feeling both humiliated and aroused by his words. “A few more sessions like this and you might actually be able to use that pretty little head of yours again.” 
“Please,” You whined, tears of desperation brimming in your eyes. Your heart was still pounding and your breathing was still shallow, but it started feeling different. Before, you weren’t sure what the cause was, but now you know it’s arousal. At least it mostly is. He suddenly gripped your chin and pulled your head so your face was only inches from his. As his eyes trailed all over your face, taking you in, he hummed in thought, still staring at you with his piercing gaze. 
“Misattribution of arousal truly is a fascinating subject.” He smiled. You had no idea what that meant. “Take off your underwear.” He suddenly ordered, making your eyes widen. When he stared at you, giving you a warning gaze, you scrambled off his lap to remove them. He started unbuckling his belt, then opening his pants. When he took out his cock, your breath caught in your throat. Where is that supposed to fit?
“Sit.” You tentatively got on his lap again. He sat back in the metal chair a little, dragging his eyes down your body. “Put it in.” You swallowed and looked between his face and his length, feeling your heart start pounding even harder. “Now.” Biting your trembling lip, you grabbed his cock and put it at the right angle, then slowly and apprehensively lowered yourself onto it. You whimpered when he first breached your opening, immediately feeling the burn of the stretch. 
“You won’t like it if I have to take over so I suggest you do better than this.” He warned and you whined in response, but forced yourself down lower. 
“It hurts, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered, hoping for sympathy from the cold, apathetic doctor. 
“Enough.” He growled, grabbing your hips and lifting you off of him. He stood and spun you around to push your torso onto the cold metal table with a hand on the back of your neck. Holding you down firmly, he pushed his cock back in, this time going all the way. You cried out and scrambled for purchase on the table as he immediately started thrusting. 
“W-wait, Dr. Crane..” You choked out, the burning stretch bringing tears to your eyes. Not bothering with replying, he removed the hand from your neck and you heard clothes rustling, then he was putting his tie between your lips and wrapping it around your head to secure it. Almost instantly those feelings flared up again. Your chest heaved as you panted, trying to ignore how much it was hurting from your heart beating so fast and hard. 
He put his hand on your head this time, forcing your cheek onto the cold metal as he held you down and started moving faster. You sobbed out a moan and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on calming down but everything was just so much. 
“Is this what you needed? Have you been playing the role of the dumb little patient this whole time just to get me to fuck you?” You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move it under his hand. “I can feel you pulsing around my cock. Is it really that good?” The way he was mocking you had you squeezing your thighs together, but he couldn’t have that. He lifted one of your legs and placed it on the table, keeping you from getting any real stimulation on your clit besides his balls smacking against it with every thrust. 
“Please!” You cried, the word being muffled by the tie. 
“I know. You’re probably so eager to come right now, aren’t you?” You did your best to nod, despite him holding you down. “Is the thought of finally getting bred making you all needy?” He asked condescendingly and you let out a strangled whimper. “Should I let you come on my cock?” 
“Yes!” You yelled, trying to make it sound coherent through the gag. He released your head and grabbed your shoulders, starting a brutal pace that made you almost scream from the intensity. The table was screeching against the floor with each thrust and you could start to hear his quiet grunts as he neared his orgasm.
“Go ahead then. Show me how needy this pathetic little cunt is for my cock.” He said and, despite the degrading words, you almost cried in relief. You’ve only made yourself come maybe a handful of times since being admitted to Arkham, so it did not take much longer for you to get there. You all but screamed around the gag when it hit you, making your legs turn to jelly. His thrusts didn’t even waiver, but you could hear groans coming from him. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through you, so intense that it bordered on painful. 
When it was finally done, you sagged into the table, but your body immediately went stiff when the overstimulation kicked in. You cried out and squirmed, trying to escape it, so he grabbed your hair and yanked you up, wrapping his other arm around your stomach. 
“I know.” He pulled your head back until it was resting on his shoulder, then turned it so your face was up against his neck. “Just breathe through it.” But you couldn’t. Everything was just too much. You sobbed loudly and buried your face in the crook of his neck as he fucked you, moving both hands down to grab your hips. 
“Just be a good girl and take it. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked and bred like a bitch in heat.” You let out a strangled sob at the degrading words. “No… It’s what you needed.” He growled, making you whimper. “Don’t worry, we’re going to keep doing this until I finally fuck a baby into you. Maybe then you’ll be less cock hungry. But we’ll probably have to keep this up while you’re pregnant because of all the hormones.” After your orgasm, everything your body was going through started to feel like it was from fear again, rather than arousal. His words were making you spiral into overthinking. You can’t have a baby yet— you’re too young. And also there’s the fact that you’re in an asylum… 
“And I think… I might make you my little lab rat. You respond so well to such a small dose, I’m eager to see how you’ll react to something more potent.” Now you were truly confused, but you were also too fucked out and overstimulated to try and understand. “God— that’ll be a fucking sight.” He choked out, rutting into you more frantically. Tears started streaming down your cheeks as he kept fucking you, getting more painful with every thrust. But based on the way his sounds kept getting louder, you knew it’d be over any second now.  
You cried out when he roughly snapped his hips into you and stayed there, wrapping his arms around your torso to keep you close and letting out a low groan. His hips bucked forward with every spurt of come that left his cock, despite the fact that he was already completely inside, pressed up against your cervix uncomfortably. Even after his orgasm ended, he remained buried inside you, keeping you plugged up for now.  
“That’s better, isn’t it? Now you’re nice and full.” He spoke softly, turning his head to kiss your neck as his hand rubbed over your lower stomach. “Mm… I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round— your tits swollen with milk. You’re going to look so beautiful.” Even though everything calmed down, you still felt anxious and scared. “And I’m sure once that kid is out, you’ll go back to being a brainless little bitch in heat so I’ll have to fuck another one into you.” You let out a weak sound, unable to do anything else. Your whole body was shaking. With how you were currently feeling, his words sounded like a threat. 
“Still can’t use that pretty head?” He asked curiously. You didn’t answer, but it didn’t seem like he expected you to. “You must need more, then.” You whined at the thought. He gently pushed your torso back onto the table and you hissed in pain when he dragged his cock out. When his come trickled out, he cursed under his breath. Using his thumbs, he spread your puffy, abused folds, giving him a better view of your gaping hole. You flinched when he used his fingers to scoop up his come and push it back in. “Lucky for you, I cleared the rest of my schedule today just for this session, so I can keep giving you load after load until you drain my balls completely. Maybe then you’ll actually be able to fucking think.” 
Taglist (join here)
@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @theoraekenslover @kaorisakamotofan @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @cillianscrybaby @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @bernelflo @milktert @nyxxie.pooh @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @milkytomura @bigbossbabysworld @bluujaiwrites @crunchsworld @jayroytodd @harleyql @lokabrenna0801
830 notes · View notes
prettyboykatsuki · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
✮ tags ; gn!reader, usage of honorfics (-senpai once, -san), submissive ish nanami, blowjobs, anal fingering, 18+
✮ wc ; 1.7k (???????????)
✮ a/n ; i dont know what happened. not even a nanami girl. but. i see a man in need. nanami sorry for what every does to you.
Tumblr media
It's so easy to get Nanami to bent out of shape.
He tries his best, you think. He tries hard, and he's a good guy. You always feel bad being around him and pulling your pranks and antics. You're not like Satoru - he's told you, because you're much more conniving. Unlike Satoru, who Nanami finds dishonest - he thinks you're too direct. Too plain in your admission, your admonishment, your praise.
He deserves a break, for all the tremendous pressure he puts on himself to do well and protect. to make something out of his life. There's some part of him you feel a lot of sympathy for, and another part that sees him for what he is. A man under duress who's practically begging for reprieve. He wants to vacation on a beach somewhere, but he can't.
You think it's natural - inevitable, that Nanami will give into your flirting. You lay it on thick every time he comes by. he's only unaffected in the brief stretch of time where he thinks you're teasing him. Because he's older than you, jaded, easy. When he realizes there's even the slightest bit of sincerity in your words, he suddenly can't look you in the eye.
It's a troublesome affair for him to have feelings for his junior. It's inappropriate, and he can't approach you in the way he likes. The way he likes being controlled and practiced. He's quite the gentleman. Later, you'll sure he'll wine and dine you nicely as a proper thank you. A man like that leaves no good deed unaccounted for.
But for now, you don't really want to let Nanami do anything for you. You've always wanted to do something for him. Break him down. Maybe it's your problem, since a man with that kind of neuroses always turns on the worst in you.
Still. Still. You can see something in him that no one else does, a desire to forget himself. You can give that to him without trying that hard at it, but it does take a lot of convincing.
He's got the handsomest face when he's embarrassed out of his fucking mind. He gets red. You've never seen it before - but his face is lit up. Pink up to his ears.
He's haphazard. Shirt unbuttoned but not off, tie loosened. He took off his pants but couldn't manage his boxers. You've been riling him up all evening, teasing and testing and pushing. When he finally kissed you later on in the evening, an expression close to a plea - you knew you had him where you wanted him.
So you made it to his apartment, kissed in his hallway, pulled him onto the couch and dry-humped like two idiot teenagers. He can't see him to control it after all your meticulous bullying and he looks so much better that way. Loosened up and picked apart.
He's so easy. It's unimaginable for you in some ways, that your cool and collected senior could break apart over something like this. He's normally so reserved, but you've breached some upper limit and now he's like this underneath you.
The muscles of his thighs are tense as you sit patiently between his legs, a hand on his knee with another wrapped around his shaft. you laugh a little at the state, the pre-cum dripping down your fingers and
"Nanami-san," you punctuate the honorifics "You alright up there?"
He lets out a sigh like he's been holding it in all evening. He tries so hard. So hard. You respect it, admire his endless resolve. He chokes down a sound as your hands grip around the base of his cock.
"Yes," He says, only barely masking the thin veil of desperation in his voice. He's almost begging you. You think you're probably awful enough to get him there "I'm fine."
"You sure? You're red in the face. Been a while? You seem like the serial monogamist type. When was the last time you got laid?"
In an act of unbelievable cruelty, you decide the best time to blow him is now. You open your jaw wide, stick your tongue out and let the spit pool onto the tip of his length. He hisses, almost bites a hole in his lip looking down at you in disbelief. His cock throbs painfully in your hand and you giggle - which makes him look down at you ashamed.
You blink innocently, silently imploring him to keep going. He sighs, an arm thrown over his eyes and his hand closed into a hard fist. You close your mouth around the head, minding your teeth. Nanami tastes like skin and salt and musk, but not unpleasant at all. His pre-cum taste clean, just like the rest of him is so prim and perfect. You dip your tongue into his slit, watching him squirm before taking him down even further.
"Could you please—for the love of—"
You slide off your mouth of to talk. You can't help but want to press his buttons.
"Come on, Nanami-san. You can withhold a little bit. You're so sturdy, y'know, more than I thought. Tell me about your sex life."
Nanami can recognize your words for what they are, because he knows you and the games you play with him. He frowns hard, meeting your eyes and closing his own with a sigh.
"I don't remember," Nanami tells you, honest - nearly biting a hole into his lower lip as you massage his balls with your hands, soft as you kiss down his shaft and lave your tongue over the thin skin "It's been a long time. Years."
"That so? You deserve an orgasm, Nanami-senpai. A good one. You really work hard," You punctuate every word with a touch, a squeeze before he shivers himself into a mess. "Every had anything up there?"
His eyes widen in shock and dismay, but not disgust.
"....A very, very long time ago."
"You okay with it?"
"....Well, yes. I guess so."
"Any lube?"
"There's uhm," Nanami stutters, rubs his eyes like he doesn't know where he is "Oil. In the drawer."
"Kay," You say, casually, patting his thigh as you reach over to get it and return to him no problem. He looks at you awestruck and you look back at him with nothing more to offer "Try and relax,"
You warm the oil up in your fingers first before you pull his cock up enough to touch his ass. The rim of muscle flutters as you touch it, slick thumb drawing circles around. He makes a noise you can't identify, followed by one you can. A moan, slight and quiet enough to go undetected. You grin silently as you ease a finger in, a thumb first then your pointer. Nanami breathes through the motion, and you move slow enough to get him to relax.
Once there's one, you go back to blowing him. He loosens up immediately when he feels the warmth of your mouth, hot and slick, suctioned around his cock. You relax your throat taking him deep, opening his ass at the same time.
It's more attention than he's had in a while. There's an unmistakble quality of lust, gargled words and sounds and shuddering. His chest is so flushed in the bare light of apartment he almost glows. You start with one finger and keep your blowing steady - start him easy with stimulation.
You get another, then another - and when your three fingers in, you decide you have some room to be relentless. Ruthless. You curl your fingers and search for his prostate. You know when you've found it because the sound he lets out is debauched.
It's easy - too easy, to get Nanami completely bent out of shape. Getting him this broken this fast almost feels like a trick of light - his dark brown eyes rimmed red and shaking. Such a composed gentlemanly sort moaning a fucking mess.
His strong chest is trembling as it rises up and down trying to catch a breath. You know when you find the spot because he nearly jerks his hips, but shows enough restraint not to do it. Not to fuck up into his throat animalistically like he wants so badly.
A well-trained man he is. You suppose all men can be a little like dogs.
So you reward him by deep-throating him. It takes all of your willpower and expertise but the reaction is more than worth it.
So polite, he doesn't even swear when he breaks underneath your ministrations. Doesn't cry, doesn't even scream when he wants too. His cock shudders and twitches and pulses against the warmth of your mouth, pre-cum streaming into your throat like a broken faucet. But he doesn't let himself cum, doesn't do anything but let you have your way with him.
No, he wants you to have your way with him.
You pull off and he whines. Whines. His voice, thick and deep, so pitched with need you almost want to laugh. You kiss his cock affectionately.
"You can cum when you feel like it. 'Kay?"
He just nods, speechless. Needy. You feel so good and a little sorry for him at the same time. But you're urged by a silent desire to ruin him at his very foundation.
So for the last time, you let your mouth come down on him and fuck him with your fingers. You give it everything, bobbing your hand and timing your rhythms well enough that your wrists hurt. It's a game of balance, but you manage it - because with even the slightest gestures or veritable movements, Nanami folds.
He caves in on himself, breathing ragged and practically drooling. Poor Nanami, you think. It's just so easy to get him this way, and it's fun too.
The words barely get out of his throat before he can warn you, frantically that he's going to cum. But you don't move, pushing forward and barrelling your way towards his orgasm. You can feel it happen on your tongue, cock twitching hard and he unloads deep into your throat.
You don't taste it so it's easy to swallow, and you swallow hard as you milk him making him pull you off in a desperate plea for mercy.
You laugh as you pull away from him, watching as he stares down at you awestruck and a little afraid. You wipe the corners of your mouth and smile.
"You're so sexy, Nanami-san,"
He groans in shame and embarrassment, still red to the tip of his ears.
"Enough out of you."
Tumblr media
684 notes · View notes
hopeluna-archived · 11 months
Text
Now for the important question....ass or boobs?
Tumblr media
Characters: The brothers + the dateables
CW: crack, my dumb ass imao
A/N: i'm so sorry about this, just ignore this
M.list
Tumblr media
Lucifer
I- looks at you like "I don't get paid enough for this shit"
Actually he doesn't get paid at all. #justiceforSingleMom
But......boobs.
They are just....boobs yk? They're so fun and soft and sexy - Lucifer's inner thoughts
Pls leave him alone MC, he has important work to do :')
Mammon
He's a ass man and he's proud of it 🤚🏼
Mammon loves ass. Flat ass, non-flat ass, medium flat ass
He appreciates it all
You might catch him staring at your ass if you're observant enough
Will deny it tho, it looked at him first
Levi
Thighs.
Leviathan, Avatar of Envy, The third born, Admiral of Hell's navy and Thigh man
If given permission, will bury his face in your thighs
Its heaven to him. Pun intended
Maybe leave some bite marks on them if he's feeling particularly brave ;)
Satan
BOOBS.
No I will not elaborate
Goodbye.
Asmodeus
Boobs. And ass. And thighs.
He's a slut
He'll take everything you throw at him
Still Asmo has a good point
Why choose one when you can love all of them?
Beelzebub
I cannot explain this but ass.
Idk Beel just seems like a very ass person
Like listen he's not innocent as everyone makes him out to be
He's just a wholesome guy. So like just imagine him casually slapping you in the ass out of nowhere
And you're just like 😀⁉️
And he's just like 🤷🏻‍♂️💁🏻‍♂️🍔
Belphegor
Certified user of boobs as pillows
Yk how you smack the pillow a few times to fluff it?
Boy will legit pat your boobs and snuggle in and not even acknowledge you
Like sir?? I'm not even here, i'm a hallucination ✨
Diavolo
Pls i'm a boob person for him, I wanna squeeze those honkers
Dia is both a boob and a ass person
He just thinks both of them come for different uses
Your boobs are his stress ball
Your ass is also his stress ball with the added benefit of slapping it
Barbatos
Yup he saw that question coming from a miles away
But nevertheless he'll humour you
Boobs
Idk why but he just gives me boob guy vibe
Simeon
WHAT IS THIS QUESTION ⁉️⁉️
MC THIS IS HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE
Simeon likes you for you heart, your kindness, you sincerity, your mind-
Boobs.
Solomon
Thighs.
Enough said.
Tumblr media
© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.
2K notes · View notes
hxney-lemcn · 1 year
Text
Melting — Connor x gn! reader
Tumblr media
summery: Reader and Connor are two lovesick fools who bond over being touch starved.
tw: descriptions of anxiety
a/n: Should I make another part? Or like a series of one shots with these two? I'm tempted if anyone is interested.
wc: 1.8k
Master List
Tumblr media
“You comin old man?” I teased Hank as I stood beside his desk, Connor sitting across from him. I was going on break and I thought we’d all head out for lunch together like we normally did. 
“Nah, not today,” Hank waved me off. “Got more work than I know what to do with.” I frowned, glancing at Connor and assuming that meant he wouldn’t be able to join either. 
Having resigned myself to eating alone, I tapped Hank’s desk in acknowledgement, “Alright, I’ll be on my way then.” I smiled at the two and Connor seemed a bit conflicted, eyes darting between Hank and I. Deciding to ignore the odd mannerism, I went to turn away.
“Connor, why don’t you go with them,” Hank offered. “I’ll hold down the fort, but don’t forget to get me something.”
“Are you-” Connor was going to ask, eyebrows furrowed, but was quickly cut off.
“Yes!” Hank exclaimed. “Go before I change my mind.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Connor thanked, a warm smile blessing his face. Whoever made him so handsome needed a raise. Well, Cyberlife is now controlled by androids but y’know what I mean. Connor’s warm gaze fell onto me and I swear my heart skipped a beat. I averted my eyes, his stare too intense for my poor heart. 
“C’mon,” I motioned him to follow me. He was out of his chair in less than a second, walking next to me and matching my pace. 
My nerves felt alight, not normally alone with the android. I tried to calm down my racing mind, scolding myself for not only thinking of my friend, but my coworker as such. I fiddled with the ring I wore, scolding myself for my inappropriate thoughts. But was it really so wrong to want to hold his hand? 
“Are you alright?” Connor asked, and I turned to face him, not realizing that he had just scanned me. “You are showing signs of anxiety.” His furrowed brow and concerned look never failed to make me melt. 
Having a topic to speak on, I felt myself calm slightly and nudged Connor lightly with my elbow, smiling lightly, “You know I’m an anxious person. But I’m good.”
His frown worsened, the hair that always fell out of place falling just a tad bit farther with the tilt of his head, “Is there anything I can do to help prevent it from happening?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m so used to it that I don’t even notice it much. That’s unless it gets really bad, but I’ve been getting better.” Connor pursed his lips, his concerned gaze swirled with frustration. “I mean being with people I know helps comfort me. And when it gets really bad, it helps if I can…kinda cling to them?” I finished in more of a questioning tone, hating the vulnerability it made me feel to admit that. I stared at the concrete as we continued to walk to the nearest fast food restaurant. 
“You can hold my hand if that would make you feel more comfortable,” Connor offered, and when I looked at him in shock, he had his hand extended out to me. My heart pounded faster. Immediately my mind started to romanticize the situation and I couldn’t stop it, even though I knew this had to be strictly platonic. There’s no way it wasn’t…
The kind smile he had turned to a frown, “Your anxiety is increasing…”
“Sorry,” I apologized for no reason really, I suppose for making him think I hate him? I suppose my anxiety really is increasing. “I’m just…I…I don’t mind, I haven’t really held hands with someone in a long time, or hugged, or…I’m rambling, sorry.”
His frown turned into an awkward smile, “You don’t have to apologize. I haven’t held anyone's hand before, so this is a new experience for me as well.” 
Squeezing my hands, I rubbed my right hand on my pants before reaching my hand out. Connor met my hand halfway and I hoped he ignored the sweat gathering on my palms once more. His hand was surprisingly warm, although I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, not to mention soft. Finally reaching the restaurant, Connor opened the door for me and I thanked him. 
He followed me as I went straight to the self-serve kiosk. It was busier than I was used to, and I didn’t even realize that I moved closer to the brown haired man that was also very handsome and very much holding my hand. We both ordered, and waited in line for our numbers to be called. I glanced over to Connor, only to find him already staring at me. 
“Are you scanning me again?” I joked lightly. 
“Even though we are in a crowded place, which seems to usually trigger your anxiety, your stress levels are surprisingly low,” Connor stated, confusion laced in his warm gaze.
“I’ve got you with me,” I replied without even thinking of the implications. Instead I just grinned at him, unaware of how he was becoming increasingly flustered. I glanced at the screen that showed off the order numbers, and noticed ours both were getting closer. 
“Excuse me,” Someone grunted, pushing past me. Which in turn caused me to press closer to Connor. 
Connor ran a diagnostic scan, wondering why he felt like his internal fans were going to explode. It came up all good, which led him to thinking about what Hank brought up earlier. 
“You haven’t noticed them touching you more lately?” Hank asked, raising an eyebrow.
Connor had noticed it, quite a bit actually. The small touches to his arm, the nudges, or even when they tried to rest their arm on his shoulder jokingly. He always looked at that last example fondly, especially when he was 6’ compared to their shorter height. 
“All their affection reads as platonic, does it not?” Connor asked, curious as ever. 
“You don’t see them hiding their laughter into my shoulder, do you?” Hank asked rhetorically. 
“No,” Connor replied anyway, led blinking yellow in thought. “So you’re saying they may have a romantic interest in me?”
Hank shrugged, clearly losing interest in the subject the more questions Connor asked obliviously, “I don’t know kid, why don’t you ask them yourself?”
Connor blinked back into reality as I called his name, his thirium pump seeming to beat faster as his name tumbled from my lips.
“Your number was called,” I said as I finally seemed to grab his attention, pushing him towards the counter. 
“R-right,” Connor stuttered lightly, embarrassed he was caught in such a daze. 
“Let’s get out of here,” I grumbled as we both got the food we ordered. 
“Of course,” Connor nodded, guiding me out of the crowded restaurant. Arm protectively wrapped around my shoulder. I didn’t mind being pressed into his side once more. My hand clung to his jacket as we continued to squeeze past people. Once we finally got outside, I let out a relieved breath, glad to be out of that packed room. 
“Would you like to eat outside?” Connor asked. It was a nice day, the warm sun beating down on the cool spring air. People bustled about, enjoying the nice turn of the weather.
“I don’t want Hank’s food to get cold,” I frowned, drawing away slightly from Connor’s side as his arm dropped to his side once more.
“I’m sure he would understand,” He replied.
I couldn’t help but laugh, “Is this the same Hank we’re talking about?”
Connor joined in on my laughter, “How about we drop it off first, to be safe.” I agreed, the walk back to the precinct much lighter than the earlier tension. Was it tension or just my anxiety? Who knows. 
I took in a deep breath as a small breeze blew past. I ate a fry, watching the flowers dance in the wind to a song only they could hear. The sounds of birds chirping, people talking, and Connor flipping a coin filled the air. 
“Is the food to your liking?” Connor asked, breaking the silence. 
I looked over to him, the coin firmly held between two fingers, and shrugged, “It’s alright. What you’d expect from fast food.” 
I loved watching Connor do his little coin tricks, it became a habit to soothe his nerves. It was interesting watching him gain his own habits, becoming his own person. I remember asking why he knew how to do coin tricks, only for him to explain it was to help him calibrate his software.
As I finished my lunch, I watched as the coin rolled over the back of his fingers. Flicking it to his other hand, only to roll it between his fingers. His movement was so smooth, fluid. I can only imagine the million ways I’d fumble and lose the quarter. 
“Do you want to try?” Connor asked, offering the coin to me. I broke out of my spaced out state and stared at him like an idiot. 
“If I tried I’d find a way to accidentally fling it into the ocean,” I joked with a bright smile. 
“The probability of you…oh, that was a joke,” Connor fumbled, and I noticed that his cheeks turned a light blue. Oh my god I didn’t know androids could blush! That’s actually really cool, and I wonder how that even works. 
I laughed lightly at his fumble, “It’s okay, Connor. Besides, I leave the coin tricks for the professionals.” I winked, and then immediately panicked. Why the hell did I wink? God I must’ve looked so lame, but…why was his blue blush more prominent? And why is it so pretty? 
Blue was a good color on him. I thought that when he wore his old outfit that cyberlife fitted him with, and I still think it now. I glanced at my watch, noticing our break was almost over. I let out a dramatic sigh and flopped onto his side, causing him to hold his arm out in confusion before placing it around me gently.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I don’t mean to  make you uncomfortable.” I was so comfortable with him that I didn’t even realize how this may be uncomfortable for him. It was so weird, because one minute I’d be overthinking our interactions, and then the next I wouldn’t be thinking at all. 
Before I could get up or continue to overthink, Connor spoke hurriedly, “It’s alright, you can lean on me if you’d like.” 
“We should probably get back to work,” I grumbled, leaning my head back on his shoulder. I tried to ignore the warmth that spread through my body at his warm touch. It was such a nice feeling, I was scared to grow used to it because I wasn’t sure if it’d always be available to me. 
“We have a few more minutes,” Connor murmured back, hearing his voice so close to my ear, slightly startling me. 
Calming a bit from the slight scare, I let out a soft hum, closing my eyes. Such a peaceful moment. If only it could last forever.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
delululand · 20 days
Note
How do you think txt would react to getting back scratches? ( could be sfw or NSFW)
Btw I love your writing to much!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day, don't forget to drink water and to relax your shoulders!!!!
omg you’re so sweet and i’m so sorry it took so long to respond😭 i'm glad my writing resonates with you, thank you so much for kind words!! 🩵
soobin
blush but fluttering inside. noticing scratches on his back in the morning, he begins to worry if he was accidentally too rude at night, but after hearing your assurances that everything is fine and you liked it, he just sits trying to hide his awkward happy smile
yeonjun
ohhh he would be sooo self satisfied. noticing the distinct scratches on his back and remembering your screams at night, he approached you with a satisfied grin and a sly look asking “it was that good babe? want to repeat?” and the very next second his arms were hugging you from behind, pressing your ass against the bulge in his pants
beomgyu
would be really cocky. he'll never stop mentioning how good he makes you feel. especially at the most inappropriate moments, like when you're at dinner at your parents' house and you're just innocently putting your hand on his back and he's already whispering in your ear “decided to see if the marks of your pleasure are still there?"
taehyun
try to be cool. pretends that nothing special happened and most likely won’t tell you anything, just wondering should he put on a tank top and show off to everyone around him or put on a t-shirt and keep your secret
huening kai
kind of a little embarrassed. he felt it the night before, but didn't expect it to leave such marks. however, after noticing the scratches, he's the type who won't tell you much (honestly, he's feel shy to even ask or mention it out loud), but the whole next day he's playfully looking at you with a mysterious smile and acting cuter than usual with you
330 notes · View notes
bug-is-snug · 3 months
Text
starved pt. 2
part one
plot: you're a zombie <3 CW: depictions of violence, depictions of obsession, gore, self-cannibalism (stay safe cutiepies!), blood, gore, eventual smut (That means Minors DO NOT INTERACT), self harm (I think? I'm not sure but I'm adding it to be safe!), military inaccuracies, dead dove do not eat kinds of stuff
A/N: let me know if I missed anything with the content warnings! Also please forgive me for the terrible accents, I am but a small humble person with the brain made of v8 juice- Also some of this was written on mobile so forgive me if there are any grammar errors ^^; banner by: @frostthecupcake (deactivated) and found by using "Find A Banner"
Tumblr media
You felt your face grow warm as your mind went back to the sight of your Captain's wrist. Well- mainly his veins...God, he had lovely veins... You imagined grabbing his arm and sinking your teeth in, tearing away at his skin and tendons with gnashing teeth...while you daydreamt you couldn't help but wonder; How sweet would his flesh taste? Shaking your head profusely, you let out a huff and continued to head off towards the barracks while ignoring the emptiness in your stomach. God, you could feel the blood running down your throat, warming you far better than any hard alcohol... "Stop it." You hissed quietly to yourself, as if you had any control over the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind, "Don't think at all, just shut up!"
Taking a moment, you lean up against the wall and desperately try to gather your thoughts. Your stomach growled almost angrily, making you let out a frustrated groan. "Hungry?" A familiar voice cooed playfully, their Scottish accent giving away their identity instantly. You look up to see Soap, your heart instantly beginning to race. Your eyes scanned over his body while your nose took in his scent, which allowed you to recognize that he had just gotten back from the shooting range, the smell of his musk and the gunpowder making your head swim. "Uh-" Christ, you sounded dumb, "Maybe? I dunno, I kinda skipped lunch today...though I do hear that your body can make you hungry when you're exhausted so- uh- maybe it's that?" ...WHAT? Where did that even come from?! What kind of stupid excuse is that?! Soap raised a brow, staring at you for a moment and giving away that he was also just as bewildered as you were over the shit you just said. "...I am going over here now." You quickly walked around him, attempting to make it to your room. "Hold on now, that dinnae make a lick o' sense. What's goin' on wi' ye?" A strong, calloused hand grasped at your forearm making your heart jump to your throat, "Ye alright, lovie?" You shuddered slightly, digging your nails into your palms as thoughts of tearing your precious teammate’s ribs apart and sinking your teeth into his heart while it still beats made you feel dizzy and your stomach ache. What would it taste like? Sweet? Savory? How much would you be able to devour before someone else stumbles upon the sight? You quickly interrupted your own thoughts as you blurted out, "I think I'm sick is all." Soap hummed and reached over, pressing his hand against your forehead. "Ye dinnae feel sick, ye feel cold to be honest, lovie..." He muttered. "Sarge-" You were cut off by his hands feeling up the scruff of your neck and under your jaw. "Sorry, mate. My mum used to do this to check if me or my siblings were sick..." His voice was low, as if he trying not to spook an injured animal. "Sarge, I'm fine, honest-!" You tried to reason with him. You knew he was telling you the truth, but you also knew how he was. To clarify, while the relationship between you and Soap was rather handsy it was usually a welcome action and when it wasn't, you would tell him and he would back off. The touches the two of you would share sometimes bordered on inappropriate, but it often didn't go much further than that. It was a very intimate relationship, one that could be missed if someone didn't have a trained eye. However, it wasn't quite romantic...just intimate and sometimes intense-
Looking into his eyes, you could tell that while he was indeed just checking up on you, there was a small sense of enjoyment at the fact you were letting him casually paw at your sensitive skin. You let out a soft hiss in pain when he pressed down on a particularly tender spot, "Johnny, too hard..." "Sorry, lovie..." Soap said quietly, letting go after a moment. "It's okay..." You assured him, "What's the prognosis, Doctor MacTavish?" He chuckled at your teasing and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, "Yer feelin' a bit stiff is all. Probably from yer god-awful posture." "Then I am going to do what I was planning to do and go take a nap. I should probably tell Gaz...I was gonna eat lunch with him today..." You said, disappointment heavy in your voice. "I can tell 'im fer you, lovie. Dinnae ye worry yer little head ‘bout it." Soap smiled, reaching over and giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder. A sigh left your lips as you gave him a relieved smile, "You'd really do that for me? Thank you, Johnny..." He smiled back, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder. "Yer welcome..." You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow which made him chuckle and give you a wink before he walked around you, leaving you on your own as you finally made it to your room. You remembered the last time you retreated to your room when feeling unwell while you stared at your bed, closing your door behind you. It was a few days after the attack... Your body felt like it was on fire, especially where that damn doctor had bitten you. Your heart raced and your arm felt like your veins had poison coursing through them. You had refused to let anyone know, nor let anyone take care of you going as far as to barricade the door. Stupid? Yes, but what were you supposed to do? Let the teammates whom you trust your life with every single day know you're unwell? Ask them for help because they're your found family and you would drop everything to take care of them if they were in this state because you love and cherish them as people? Cringe- You groaned in pain, curling up in your little bed while digging your nails into the fabric, tearing them effortlessly much to your surprise. "What the fuck?" You huffed out, grimacing as you stare at the ruined sheets, "I just bought those..." Was that what you should have been worried about? Absolutely not, but you have to cope somehow. The pain was unbearable, but the worst of it was the fever and the fever dreams that came along with them. Well, you called them fever dreams; they actually appeared in your mind when you were awake. And most of them were really just...urges... Visions of ripping people apart filled your mind. It felt so real...you could feel your fingers digging into some faceless person's skin, tearing apart their flesh and ripping apart their ribs while they screamed and thrashed. The more skeptical part of your mind shoved it off as just an edgy little thought that you had as a courtesy of watching so many horror movies with Gaz, just a silly little spout of aggression. No, it was the thought of eating the person that got you to worry. It was the thought of burying your face into their warm body and sinking your teeth into their heart that scared you. The worst part of it was the fact that your stomach growled every time you imagined chewing and swallowing, like a forbidden fruit... Blood spilling down your chin like you had just bit into an apple after days of neglecting your hunger became a feeling you craved desperately. "Please just be a really fucked up version of the flu..." You whispered, "I swear to everything that is good and holy if it's not-" You were interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in your stomach, making you cry out. Burying your face into your pillow, you let out a quiet sob while you clung to it. Somehow, you felt embarrassed about how much pain you felt. You've taken bullets for fuck's sake! You have broken bones, dislocated joints-! And a little stomachache is making you cry?!
"What the fuck...?" You muttered, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Upon seeing the literal puddle of it in your hand you cringed, “Mm…that’s nasty…”
Sitting up, you use the headboard of your bed to keep you steady while your head pounds and begs you to lay back down. You huff, leaning your head against your arm for a moment. This fucking sucks. There is no denying it!
Your nose is pressed against your flesh, and you catch a whiff of yourself…Oh my…
Your stomach beckons you, and in that moment, you don’t even care. How can you? You’re starving!
So…
Without a second thought…
You sink your teeth into your wrist with a sickening squelch, tearing through veins and muscle. And, God, if it didn’t taste lovely…
Back To Current Day…
You sit down on your bed, running your fingers over the stitching you had done over the once torn sheets. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough!
With a sigh, you lean against the wall, staring at the ceiling as you reach over and gently touch your forearm, your fingertips sliding across the edge of the bandage. You didn’t really want to check if the wound was still there…but you didn’t want it to get infected either.
Your eyes glance down as you kicked off your shoes, scooting into your bed while your hand slowly peeled the bandaid off. You expected infection…a festering, pulsing and pus filled one…however, there was nothing. Your wrist was completely healed, like nothing happened-! How…?
You shake your head as hard as you can, as if it would shake the thoughts away. You ball the bandaid up and go to the trashcan, tossing it before going to your sink and rinsing your hands off. This isn’t so bad, right? It’s- er- not ideal, but it’s something! Maybe you should keep a journal of your changes- No. Too risky. If anyone found it…
Your eyes closed as you lean against the counter, inhaling through your nose while your leg bounce uncomfortably, “I can’t see a doctor…I really should but-! …What if I hurt someone…?”
You found yourself doing that a lot; whispering to yourself, fighting yourself…etc…
But that’s neither here nor there, it’s time to eat.
You started to head to your mini fridge, kneeling down before it and opening it up to take a package of raw meat out. You tear it open with your finger, feeling yourself begin to shake…
Shoveling raw meat into your mouth was not a good feeling. Did it scratch that lizard part of your brain? Yes. But social norms taught you to be disgusted with such bad manners-! However…as you sunk your teeth into the raw chicken breast, you ripped and tore away at it, feeling yourself grow more and more ravenous as it you continued. It tasted pretty okay for the most part, which is what surprised you the most.
Tasted like chicken, obviously, but the raw flavor added to it somehow? It was so hard to describe! But…then those thoughts came…
You were imaging the meat belonging to Soap, your beloved teammate. You felt so dirty and perverted…
‘This isn’t normal,’ You reminded yourself, ‘This is NOT. NORMAL!’
You didn’t even realize someone else had entered your room until they cleared their throat, making you snap your attention to whomever it was.
Oh shit.
271 notes · View notes
beastofburdenxo · 5 months
Text
Awakening: Hypothermia part 2
here it is, the much-awaited part 2! Emmett realizes what he did in his sleep, how will he fix this?
2.8k words. MINORS DNI tags: fingering, first time, p in v sex, unprotected sex, first orgasm(?) Praise, language
Tumblr media
Emmett stirs in his sleep, his heart pounding. “Oh no, did I dream again?” he wonders to himself. Feeling the front of his pants, he has his answer. “Shit.” He turns back towards you, hoping he didn’t disturb you, putting his arms back around you. He notices you slightly shaking, you can’t possibly be cold. He's right by your side, then he notices that your pants are gone. Your panties are all bunched up, slightly damp in the back. “Oh god, what did I do? Did I hurt you?” He sits up in bed, pondering if he should flee when you turn towards him. “Emmett, you awake?” you mutter in the darkness feeling him move. He's speechless, hoping that he didn’t do what deep down he knows he did. Hoping that you are innocent and clueless to his inappropriate behavior. “Emmett, talk to me. I know happened.” Emmett feels like he’s about to be sick at your words, his worst nightmare coming true. You grab his shoulders, knowing he’s going to want to bolt. “I’m not mad Emmett, you were asleep, had no idea what you were doing.” His chest feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. “Did I hurt you? Did I-”  
“No Emmett, you didn’t hurt me I’m fine.” you assure him, “Nothing big happened, you just moaned a little in my ear and...” You trailed off, suddenly embarrassed at what you were about to disclose to him. Emmett put his head in his hands, “And what? What else happened?” You clear your throat, how do you put this politely? “Umm, well, you kind of humped me a little. Held me tight to you and uhm,” you stuttered this last part, “Groped a bit, and you sorta, used me to get off.” Emmett made an angry sound, “Damn it, I'm so sorry. I understand if you can’t stand to be around me anymore. I'm an animal. Over here having wet dreams about my dead friend’s daughter. Rutting against you like a pig.” You shush his displeasure, “I don’t think any less of you Emmett, you can’t control what your body does when you're asleep.” Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “And besides I didn’t hate it. It's the closest a man has ever gotten to me.” Silence fills the room as Emmett digests this information. “What?” you feel his eyes on you, “You enjoyed it? Enjoyed pretty much being molested by a man twice your age?” Your face reddens in the dark. “It felt kind of good honestly, I didn’t want you to stop.” You curse yourself at letting this secret loose.  
“Well, I'm glad I stopped when I did. Hope you got your fill, because this will not happen again. I knew this whole thing was a bad idea.” He turns away, stoney and cold towards you. Silly little tears fill your eyes, you didn’t want Emmett to be upset. You should have kept your mouth shut. “Little girl doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Emmett thinks to himself, “She enjoyed it? The fuck? I used her and she liked it?” He rubs his eyes, “She enjoyed it because it’s all she’s ever had. You are all she’s ever had.” A small voice in the back of his head tells him, “Poor thing doesn’t know any better. Show her there is better to be had.” If he could shut the voice off, he would, “No, it’s wrong. She’s too young. I literally watched her grow up.” “And now she is grown,” the voice replies, “She is an adult Emmett, a poor sexually deprived and innocent woman. Listen, you made her cry.” In the silence he hears your sniffling. “Dammit, I didn’t want to upset her. How do I make this right?” He turns back towards you, nervous that you would blow up in his face. “Hey,” he whispers, “Don’t cry. I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself, you did nothing wrong.” His warm hand caresses your shoulder. “Look at me, please.” You refuse. “Come here, hey, come here, don’t cry.” His arms snake back around you. “Hey now, don’t cry sweetheart. I’m sorry I upset you.” 
He makes you turn towards him, his blue eyes dark with concern. “Let’s forget this ever happened, okay? I don’t like seeing you like this.” His thumbs wiping away your tears. “it’s over and done with, water under the bridge alright?” You finally meet his gaze, “I won’t be able to forget, and you won’t either. I don’t want to forget.” With shaking hands, you reach for his beard and try to pull him closer. “No, no, stop sweetie. You’re confused. You really don’t want to do this. Let's just go back to sleep, okay?” With a new determination in your eyes you reply, “You said my name in your sleep, I heard it. Deep down you want this as much as I do.” Your lips are now ghosting over Emmett’s, just waiting for one of you to make up for the distance. “Emmett,” you whisper against his lips, “It’s okay Emmett, please. I trust you. Emmett.” In an instant your lips finally meet, not knowing who finally broke resolve. His lips are soft and tender against yours, not trying anything further. Nice and gentle, like he’s second guessing himself. He holds your face, eyes studying you, like he’s looking for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure? We can stop right here, no pressure at all.” You put your lips on him, back where they were as your answer. The kiss deepens, his grip on you tightens. You breathe each other in like you were the last source of oxygen. He moves down to your neck, sucking softly on your skin. “I can feel your pulse,” he chuckles, “Excited, are we?” you avert your gaze in embarrassment. “It’s alright sweetheart, mine is the same way. I've wanted this for so long, you have no idea.” Emmett whispers in your ear.  
You reach behind you to undo your bra, but Emmett stops you, “Let me.” In one fluid motion, his rough strong hand has the clasp undone, slowly pulling it off your body. Eye contact is not wavering the whole time, like he’s making sure you’re okay. Half of you is completely exposed to him now, your skin slightly pink with nerves. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” His words just deepen the flush. He bends down to explore this new exposed flesh; your hands automatically go to his hair. Like you're using his scalp to ground yourself, this is not some naughty thought or dream, this is real and now. Emmett takes his time, no need to rush this. His warm mouth finds your unguarded nipple, and you jolt in surprise. He looks up from his work, slight grin on his face, “You good? Not used to that are you?” You lightly slap him upside his head, “No I’m not, but it feels nice. Keep going Emmett.” You don’t have to tell him twice. While his mouth is on one nipple, his hand is working on the other. Eventually trading up. The familiar feeling of suspense returns, like when you were all defenseless against him rutting up against you. But this time, you knew there weren’t going to be any interruptions. You both are panting; he can feel your thighs clench around his waist from being wrapped around him. His hands go to your waistband of your pants. Looking up at you he asks, “Would you like these to come off?”  
Shakily with desire you respond, “Yes, please.” Emmett softly moans at that response, “So polite.” He removes your legs from around him stretching them out straight. With his electric blue eyes on yours, his hands grab your hips, “Up for me sweetheart.” You oblige him, raising your hips to get your pants off easier. He slowly pushes them down, panties with them, eye contact never wavering. “Breathe, it’s okay. You are doing so good.” Goosebumps hit your exposed skin as the fabric is slowly removed from your legs. Part of you wants to just yank them off in frustration at his extremely slow movements, but you don’t. Emmett wants to do this right, knowing your inexperience. Finally, after what feels like forever, you are completely naked in front of him. You want to curl up in a ball, not used to being naked in front of anyone, much less a man. Emmett slowly strokes your exposed legs, “Are you okay?” he asks you. You nod in response, but that’s not good enough for Emmett. He lies down next to you, hand going to your cheek. “Are you okay with this?” he asks again, “I need to hear that you are okay.” You softly grab his hand that is on your face and kiss it, “I’m okay Emmett, just feeling a little exposed right now. It's not fair that I'm the only naked one here.” He smiles at that, running his hand up your thigh, “This is all about you right now, we’ll get to me later.”  
A shaky breath leaves your lips as you realize just how high Emmett’s hand is on your leg. Creeping closer and closer to where you both want him to be. He kisses you deeply again, gently climbing on top of you, his knee between your legs. “Can I look at you baby?” Your eyes get big at knowing what he wants. “I won’t touch unless you let me. Can I see just how pretty my girl is?” You gulp, wanting to please him but still skittish. “Breathe Babygirl, let me see you.” Time stands still as Emmett waits for your answer, not daring to go forward without your consent, still rubbing your legs. Finally, you decide to let him look. “Okay,” you whisper, “Go ahead, I just hope it’s what you're expecting.” Emmett kisses both knees as he gently pulls them apart, exposing you fully to him. His normally crystal-clear eyes turn muddy with lust, “Oh my sweetheart, it’s what I expected and so much more. You are so stunning and..” he comes back up to your face, “And so very wet for me. Just how I want you to be. Perfect.” You turn away from his words, trying to hide your face with your hands. Emmett is not having that, taking your hands in his, “it’s true, don’t hide from me. Get used to me talking like this, because I will every day until you quit shying from it. So pink and dripping for me baby, so pretty and small. Can I touch you baby? I won’t enter I promise, just let me feel.”  
At his words, you feel your body respond even more. Not knowing that it’s possible to be this wet just from his explicit compliments. All you want is Emmett to touch you, anywhere and everywhere. You take his hand in yours, finally doing what you thought about earlier when he was asleep. His warm hand finally reaches its destination. Both of you moan as his fingers explore your warm folds. “There you are beautiful, is this okay?” His index finger finds your clit, slowly rubbing, eye contact never wavering. “Emmett yes.” you manage to choke out, pleasure building at his movements. “I’m okay with one finger if you want to.” He kisses your neck in response, “Are you sure? Don't let me hurt you.” Watching your pleasure ridden face, He slowly enters one digit inside you. You are so wet it doesn’t hurt, just feels unusual having something inside. “Oh baby, you are so tight.” Emmett groans, “So warm for me, you are doing so good at taking my fingers.” In and out his finger goes, watching you the whole time. Emmett loves that he is the one who makes you feel so good. “More,” you cry out, “Please add another finger.” Your request is driving Emmett crazy, “Only because you asked so nicely sweetheart. Tell me if it is too much.” 
Emmett feels like his dick is going to explode any minute as another finger goes inside you. You are doing so good for him, accepting the second digit without much protest. Your thighs begin to shake. “Breathe sweetheart, don’t forget to breathe. I know that feels so good, doesn’t it? Two fingers inside you while my thumb is rubbing that little clit of yours, yeah?” Your voice goes out on you wanting to answer him. That familiar feeling that you had when he had you pinned on your stomach slowly returns. You just hope and pray that it happens this time. “Oh yes, you are so close I can see it in your eyes. Come for me baby, let it go. I’ll take care of you this time. I got you.” Emmett raises you up and holds you close as you orgasm for the first time ever. You cry his name repeatedly into his shoulder, body limp and trembling in his arms as he takes you through it. “There it is, there you go. Yes, good job sweetheart.” he coos, silent tears of relief slide down your cheeks. You wipe them away before he notices, not to worry him. He gently puts you down on the bed again, inhaling your remaining whimpers and moans. One hand goes down to unbutton his pants, finally freeing himself. He sighs in relief. You look down and notice what’s happening as your high starts to fade. “Shhh, I was just uncomfortable is all. Nothing is happening without your say so.”  
“Can I touch you?” you ask him. Curious as to how he feels. “If you want to,” he answers, “But remember, this is about you.” You kiss him passionately as you reach down, fingertips lightly grazing his dick. You feel him twitch at that slight touch. “it’s okay, it does that sometimes. Your hand is so soft, sweetheart. You can grab, it doesn’t bite.” Emmett guides your hand around him. He's so thick you can barely get your hand around it. “Oh, this soft skin is going to be the death of me.” he moans as you slowly start to stroke him. “I don’t know how much more I can take; I want to be inside you so bad.” Between kisses, you stop stroking him and pull him back on top of you, “I want you too, Emmett.” He grabs his dick, sliding it between your folds, “Are you sure? This might still hurt even though I tried to stretch you.” Your eyes close at the feeling of your clit being touched again, “I know, it’s okay. Just go slow.” Emmett’s forehead touches yours, eye contact steady as he lines himself up to your entrance. “This can stop anytime you want it to. Don't lie there and let me hurt you.” You feel the head slowly entering you, as Emmett tries to distract you with kisses. At first you just feel really full, nothing too bad. And then it’s like he hit a wall, your body refusing him any further. You start to whimper in pain, “Shhh, it’s okay. I'm almost all the way in sweetheart. You are doing such a good job” His hand goes back to stroke your clit, “Easy there, that’s it, you can do it. Focus on the pleasure baby, not the pain. It'll go away soon.” And it does, your body responding to his touches, it lets him through. “Oh fuck,” he grunts, “There it is honey, I'm in. Oh, you feel so good. Are you okay?”  
You grab onto his shoulders at the massive intrusion. “Yeah, I'm alright. Just move please, it’s starting to hurt again.” With a deep kiss, he slowly starts to move. Your hands go back to his hair as he continues to talk to you, “Breathe, don’t hold it in. Oh, this is better than I could have ever imagined, you feel so good around me. Oh shit, so tight baby. Just for me huh?” Emmett gets a good rhythm going in and out at just the right speed, sending you to heaven again. “Yes, just for you Emmett,” you manage to squeak into his ear, “Just for you.” At hearing your confession, his hips start to move sloppy. “Oh sweetheart, I can’t last much longer. It's been so long. You just feel too damn good.” Your nails start to dig in his back at the pleasure. “it’s okay, come for me baby, come for me.” you moan. Emmett buries his face in your shoulder, your name coming out of his mouth like a chant. That familiar growl unleashes from his throat as he finally hits his peak, quickly pulling out of you and spilling on your thighs. “Oh yes, like that.” he mutters to no one in particular, “Look so good covered in me.” You shakily sit up and pull him into a kiss, leaning on him as you have no strength left. “Are you alright baby?” he asks. “I’m perfect,” you answer, “That couldn’t have possibly gone better.”  
With a tired chuckle Emmett responds, “Let’s just not wait for another freezing night to do that again, okay?”  
“Okay I'll give you 20 minutes.”
354 notes · View notes