#he looks so tired. mood honestly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rowarn · 1 year

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TAKING WHAT YOU NEED (m.)

tags: afab!reader, no prns, a smidgen of hurt/comfort, soft!simon as usual, established relationship

cw: wet&messy, masturbation(reader), multiple orgasms, riding him<3, u pin him down and he lets u, creampie, simons uncut bc i said so, tiny praise, overstimulation

note: i wrote this against my will it was supposed to be simon bein lazy and making u ride him and do the work and it turned into a sickening beast. please enjoy it. MDNI!

; in which ur terribly horny and neglected for simon but hes so busy and tired u have no choice but to take what u need </3

3.5k words

he's been so busy lately, almost distant without meaning to. you still get the sweet little bits of affection he always gives; a kiss to your forehead, and soft hand on your back when he passes behind you in the kitchen, your hand wrapped in his while u watch tv late at night, his hand petting your hair as you lay against his chest in bed.

but you want more, you're greedy.

it's been days since he last touched you. you're not used to the dry spells, simon always willing and ready to fuck u stupid into the mattress until u cant keep your eyes open anymore.

ur fingers simply could never compare to his. he's a man who studied your body, spent the better part at the beginning of your relationship playing with you and learning what exactly made you cum the hardest and easiest -- what your favorite spots and positions were. ur fingers tired quickly, leaving you with an orgasm u knew would be better if simon was the one with his fingers buried in your pussy

what did he expect you to do, honestly? when he came out of the shower with his towel low on his hips? his back to you as he rifled through his drawers looking for something comfy to sleep in, his back muscles flexing with the movement? were you just supposed to be able to roll over and sleep, go take a shower and act as if your panties weren't sticking to you from looking at him?

you wanted him so badly that it actually brought tears to your eyes. you didn't care how silly it was; you wanted him so bad it hurt.

"si..." you whimper, unable to stop how your voice wobbled when you spoke.

his head snaps back to look over his shoulder, brown eyes wide in concern. he briskly walked to the edge of the bed where you crawled to, sitting on your knees looking up at him pitifully.

"what is it, love? what's wrong?" his eyebrows were furrowed as he cupped your cheek, thumbing over the soft skin as his eyes analyzed every inch of you for signs of injury -- a little habit he always had.

"wan' you," you whine, placing your hands flat on his chest, moving down over his stomach where his abs flexed under the ticklish touch.

he scoffs, rolling his eyes before batting your hands away, "thought you were actually upset."

he sounds a little miffed, turning his back to you again to pull out the pair of sweats he had been eyeballing. he lets his towel fall and pauses when he hears you actually whine.

he says your name low in his chest, a warning. whether he actually wants you to stop because he's not in the mood or he just doesn't want to get started with it, you don't know. but it makes you pout a little, flopping back in the bed with a huff.

you hear simon shuffling about, getting changed into the sweats before turning off all the lights, save for a little nightlight you keep on beside you until you're ready to sleep -- on the dimmer side so it doesn't bother simon while he sleeps.

he crawls into bed with a sigh, leaning over where you're still pouting into the pillows to kiss your temple.

"i'm just tired, love," he coos, no malice or annoyance to be found in his voice. his hand comes up to rub your back and you fucking whine again, making him pause, "pouting like this is a little pathetic."

he's teasing you, you can hear the huff of a laugh under his voice. tears prick your eyes again and you petulantly push his hands away to sit up. he's leaning back against the headboard, staring straight at you.

"it's not my fault you've been neglecting me!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest.

he actually throws his head back and laughs, "neglecting you? 'cause i haven't given you dick in a few days?"

"it's been more than a few days!" you spit back. although he's taking your bratty behavior in stride, you're actually a little annoyed.

he rolls his eyes and holds back a yawn, "you'll live. just...use that little vibrator you've got, it'll get the job done."

he goes to roll over and go to sleep but you make a noise that doesn't sound like your usual pouting -- it sounds actually upset. it pauses him in his tracks and he looks at you through the dim lighting.

"it's not just that," you mumble, flopping forward to smush your cheek against his chest, "i wanna have sex because i like being close to you, si...of course it feels amazing but i like being connected with you like that....'cause i love you."

he's still for a moment before his hand finds purchase on your back, softly rubbing against you in slow circles. he hums in his chest and kisses the crown of your head.

"'m sorry, love," he coos, "didn't think about that."

"it's okay..." you mutter before sobering up and sitting up to smile at him, "u get some sleep, i'm gonna go...take a shower."

he watches you crawl out of bed and root through your drawer, pulling out that vibrator he just mentioned and slink into the bathroom. it makes his heart ache a little but he slowly lies back against his pillow. his eyelids grow heavy as he lays there and before he knows it, he falls asleep.

he wakes again when you crawl back into bed, the smell of soap still fresh and wafting off of you. you keep your back to him as you curl into yourself in that cute little way that you do. it makes him drowsily smile to himself before he closes his eyes again.

but he can't fall asleep. you begin shifting and fidgeting almost as soon as he settles, it keeps him awake. he wonders what the problem is but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

you roll onto your back and he hears you sigh to yourself. his eyes crack open and he sees you staring at the ceiling. you glance over at him, not seeing the way his eyes are ever so slightly open.

he watches you slowly spread your thighs and your hand slide under the blanket, watches the way your brows furrow as you begin to slowly work at yourself.

his cock twitches in his pants; as tired as he is, no man would be able to sit there like nothing was happening while watching the one he adored touch themself.

he watches you, vaguely hears the wet, sticky noises of you touching yourself. he wonders if you're just working your clit in tiny little circles or if you've maybe stuffed a finger or two inside to get the feeling of being stretched. his cock hardens even further against his thigh and the sleepiness he felt begins to melt away but he can't bring himself to fully open his heavy lids.

after a few minutes, you make a frustrated little huff and pull your hand out from under the blanket, using a tissue on your night table to wipe your fingers off before flopping back into bed. you don't make another move to touch yourself, instead stare into the very dimly lit room in what he can fully understand is frustration. he even hears your sniffle a little bit.

his heart gives a painful little tug. he watches you close your eyes and obviously attempt to fall asleep. his own cock is throbbing by now and he's sure you're uncomfortably wet.

"got a problem, love?" he asks softly, voice thick and heavy with sleep.

he sees you jump and your eyes snap open before you look at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. how cute, he thinks.

"si?" you whisper, "did i wake you? i'm sorry..."

he can actually hear the guilt in your voice as you apologize, "all your tossin' and turnin', not a man in the world woulda been able to sleep through it," you look even guiltier and he reaches out to place his hand over yours that's on your stomach above the blanket, "thought you went and took a shower to take care of that problem?"

you look almost defeated and shrug, then a look of embarrassment crosses your face and he feels the need to click his tongue and tell you none of that, but you speak before he can, "couldn't um...you know...finish..."

he's quiet when you say that. he could tell, obviously. the way you pulled your hand out of your panties and nearly cried in frustration. he huffs through his nose in a noise you mistake for annoyance and give him a sheepish, half-hearted smile.

"sorry, si," you mutter, leaning over to kiss his nose, "i'll be still so go back to sleep, 'kay?"

he watches you lean over and flick the switch to your little nightlight, plunging the bedroom into complete darkness at last. he feels you shift one last time and then nothing.

he should simply go to sleep, he needs sleep. he's got a busy day ahead of him, like always. his hard on is starting to flag from watching the sad little display of you so embarrassed and disheartened. he could easily close his eyes and drift off, get his precious z's in.

but he just can't. knowing that you're going to sleep with sticky panties and completely unsatisfied because you can't seem to make yourself cum despite how badly he knows you need it.

he sits up and leans over you, hearing you make a confused little noise before he flicks the dim little light back on. you're staring at him in confusion but he doesn't offer any answers as he grabs your arm and hoists you out of the blanket you'd nestled yourself under. you let him manhandle you until you're sitting on his lap with him laid back in his pillows still.

"let's get this off you, love," he mutters, hands sliding up the t-shirt of his that you wore.

you make another confused noise but let him strip the fabric off of you anyway, "si..? what are you doing?"

"what do you think?" he asks, shoving the blankets away from him and haphazardly tugging the band of his sweats down so his half-hard cock is freed.

"y-you should be sleeping, si, really--" he interrupts you by forcing you to stand on your knees so he can tug your panties down and off.

you're so wet that there’s a mess of stickiness that clings to the fabric, making little strings that break when he pulls them down all the way.

"fuckin' hell, love," he whispers, his cock quickly hardening completely once again against his stomach, "you were plannin' to sleep while you were this fuckin' wet?"

you look sheepish again, "w-what else was i supposed to do..?"

he grits his teeth because he knows you're right; he hadn't exactly done anything except brush you off and tell you to deal with it yourself. it wasn't like he gave you the green light to ask him for help.

"sorry, love," he whispers, cupping the back of your head to tug you down for a kiss, "shouldn't 'ave been such an ass."

"wha-?" you shake your head, "you weren't, si. you were tired and i was just bein’ too needy."

he huffs out of his nose and grabs your hips, shifting so you sit directly on top of his heavy cock. your eyes roll back a little at the feeling of his hot length against your sensitive cunt.

"nah, was bein' selfish," he mutters, "knew you wanted it 'nd i chose to sleep. you even told me you just wanted to be close with me and i shrugged it off. i've missed you too, love, you know?"

"really?" you ask softly and his heart gives that painful throb in his chest again. had you doubted him? that didn't sit right with him.

"course..." he whispers, biting his lip. he wasn't used to being vulnerable and open with his feelings, so being put on the spot while telling you how he missed you made an uncomfortable feeling stir in his chest.

quickly understanding this, you shift against his cock, grinding your hips back and forth in smooth, slow motions. it makes his head sink back into the pillow; you're so wet that you slide effortless against him, covering him in a coat of slick juices. your motions also make his foreskin slide along his length as well, making him twitch every time the leaky head is stroked.

"fuckin' hell..." he groans through gritted teeth, "c'mon love, you do the work, yeah?"

you desperately nod your head and stand on your knees, gripping his cock to line him up with your entrance. he stops you for a moment with a hand on your wrist, a little glare in his eyes.

"you need prep?" he asks, a sweet little question that makes your heart melt despite yourself.

simon was a lot to take, thick and long. he always bumped against your back wall before he even fully bottomed out. the stretch was a sting that always made you both pause until it went away lest it hurt too much to continue.

you shake your head, "i-i used the toy and my fingers...earlier..." you remind him.

his grip on your wrist slackens at that and you take the chance to slowly and carefully sink down on him, jaw dropping open at the feeling of being stretched so fully by him after however many days.

you're greedy and needy, not even pausing as you quickly descend and take more and more of him in. it's faster than you usually handle it and he moves quickly to grab your hips and stop you, intent on making you take a second to adjust before taking all of him that you can.

you make a strangled noise akin to a sob in your chest and look at him with angry little tears in your eyes. the sight makes him pause and his cock twitch.

you slap his hands away harshly and continue taking all of him despite his apparent protests. he's taken aback by the little show of aggression.

"shit, love," he growls, brows furrowed, "is that how it is then?"

you nod your head and let your eyes roll back. it wasn't very often that you got to ride him, simon was more of a 'do all the work' type of man but this position definitely allowed you to take more of him than you usually could when he had you folded up into whatever positions he wanted.

once you took him as deep as you could, your hand flew down to your clit and with a few little circles and slow grinds of your hips, you were clamping down around him and cumming with a cute little squeal and a gasp.

he felt you soak him with your cum, his eyes locked onto where he was buried deep inside you. when you pulled up, he could see the creamy ring of cum around the base of him.

his head slammed back against the bed as he gripped your hips, your hands on his flexed forearms for support as you began to fuck yourself on his cock with a vigor he hadn't ever seen from you.

you hadn't ever been this needy before. seeing you fucking yourself completely stupid on his cock, only moans and sobs of his name to be heard besides the underlying squish of your cunt being stretched and stuffed.

"fuck!" he groaned, feeling the way your pussy clutched and pulsed around him as you angled your hips just right to hit that tender little spot that made you gush messily around him.

you once again slap his hands away from your hips. he glares at you, preparing to scold you for being such a brat but then you do something that shocks the words right out of him.

you grab his wrists and pin them beside his head on the pillow, using the grip as leverage to really begin fucking yourself back onto his cock. his jaw falls open, little moans and gasps escaping his throat as he watches you work yourself to another peak.

your tits bounce from the way you fuck yourself back on him and he wishes he could reach up and cup them, pinch and roll your hard nipples just the way you like. but he doesn't want to break this little hold you have on him, pinning him down like you think you're in charge. it's cute, really, the little show you're putting on.

it's clear he's denied you so much this whole time that you've simply snapped and now you're determined to get your fill until you've orgasmed so much that your little brain just melts. and he's more than happy to be there, not even lifting a finger and merely being a nice, hard cock for you to cream all over.

he has to admit, it's alluring to see his sweet little love acting so desperate.

he doesn't know how many orgasms you work out of yourself, but it's enough to have covered his cock and thighs thoroughly in your cum. he doesn't mind. you've always been quite a bit messy when he made you cum. but you've never came this hard and this much before. he's not even sure you're giving yourself a chance to come down from one high before you've worked yourself into another.

he's speechless, content to just lay back and watch the desperate show you've put on for him until your movements finally begin to slow.

you go from bouncing on him and pinning him down to grinding against him and cupping your own tits. your body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the workout and he's sure your thighs are fucking burning by now. you're panting and your eyes are half lidded as you stare down at him.

for the first time in a long time, simon feels...small. you had just fucked yourself better than he ever had using his own cock. the thought of that made him twitch inside you and he sees the corner of your lip twitch up and you smile at him. the heady, frustrated, desperate look in your eyes fades and you look so satisfied. the weight that he hadn't realized had been on your shoulders is gone and you lean down.

he tilts his head up and meets your lips in a kiss. your tits squish against his chest and he finally moves his hands from the position you'd pinned him in earlier and he smooths his palms down the length of your back, making you shudder.

"gonna let me cum now, love?" he asks breathlessly.

when you nod, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back, simon pins your legs open with a rough grip under your thighs and begins working his hips.

it's clear you're painfully sensitive; your clit is swollen and tender, your whole body twitching when he meanly presses his roughened thumb against it. your hands once again find purchase on your tits and you squeeze and tug at your nipples.

he fucks you at a leisurely pace, listening to the filthy, clicking noises coming from the complete mess that you've made of your cunt. your eyes roll back and he rolls your tender little bud under his thumb until you seize up in one final orgasm that makes you kick your feet out helplessly.

“there it is…” he coaxes, tossing his head back to moan when you tighten like a vice around him, “so good f’me. that’s it, ride it out, little love.”

you've no choice but the ride out this final, painful orgasm on his cock as he fucks you through it to his own end. he spills inside you, pumping his hips a few more times, watching his own cum mix with the mess of your own that oozes and drools out of your gooey little cunt.

you flop against the bed when he pulls out, both of you panting and you trembling from the overstimulation.

he flops down onto his side of the bed with a sigh, eyes finally growing heavy once again as his exhaustion catches up with him alarmingly fast.

usually, he would clean you up and fix the mess you both left behind but he just truly can't bring himself to even consider getting out of bed. so he tugs you against him, listening to you whimper when more cum drools out of you from the way you involuntarily clench from the continued aftershocks of your numerous orgasms.

he hums and holds you close, dragging the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of you, kissing your forehead before tucking your head against his chest.

he would deal with the aftermath of the night tomorrow, when you both have clear heads. though, he's sure you're going to be sore. he can't wait to see it, he muses.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #cod x reader #cod smut

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jarofstyles · 18 days

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Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

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WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

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dreamesamu · 4 months

Text

THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. msby!miya atsumu x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, long scenario sets in post-timeskip!

warning(s): reader is nice and overworks herself. not proofhead i apologize

author’s note: It's kind of not what i had imagined but hope you enjoy it.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

another cliché beginning for the person you are right now - the MSBY team manager - is that you’ve loved the miya atsumu since high school. it’s not like being the team’s manager isn’t your dream, you loved this job and had been dying to do it because you’ve loved volleyball, too. plus, you will have the opportunity to stay close and take care of the team, especially your crush who just merely thinks you are his best friend.

you first laid eyes on him when you were sitting alone on the subway, his dyed-blonde locks caught your attention as he first talked to you about the chase atlantic’s song you were listening to, he was cute, warm and friendly. at that moment, you were verified that he wasn’t the guy who was fond of his fan girls that everybody had been rumoring about. He eventually found out that you guys went to the same high school, so as to start a new beginning of your bonding friendship.

It wasn’t long until you finally realized that you might have adored the pretty setter a little too much than usual. his touches, his smile, the way he calls your name and his genuine characteristics when he was used to you being around seemed a little bit more easy to flutter your heart than every other day. Ever since then, you just hid your feelings and was grateful for what you got right then because you knew that if you confess, you couldn’t get this best friend treatment that you silently fell for for any longer.

You impressed yourself for even keep it until now. you and him are mature and beautiful, but you still can’t help but feel so ‘high school’ when you look at him. the least thing you could do for a friend (crush) is care for him through bottles of flavored electrolyte water, preparing his favorite after-practice snacks and even cool and soft towels to calm the heat down after a match. However, it seems like mr. miya doesn’t notice all of the hard work you did for him, he was so used to be taken care of by you that he accidentally failed to realize the special treatment only for him but nobody else.

“Hey, tired yet? you can call it a day for now if you want?” you smiled, hand over his bottle of water you prepared for him to the softly panting atsumu taking a break on the bench. He is quite preoccupied with his earlier techniques that he need to improve, he only spares you a glance then takes the bottle to drink without saying any words, you assume that he is in a bad mood.

“oh, and” you search for the thing in your bag. “here, your towel”

he nods and takes it, it makes you feel awkward. that’s… all…? You try to not overthink yourself, after all, it was quite a tense match, and the fact that your team will have an important volleyball game the next month proves his concerns are valid.

you watch atsumu leave when hinata shoyo came up to you.

“oh? isn’t that our manager?” you startle at his voice. “hehe, please don’t mind tsumu at all, please, he just got pissed because he made a mistake during practice” the sunshine grins, having him around surely just brighten everything up, because he is just so sweet and comfortable to be with.

“no, no,… I really don’t mind at all, actually” you know atsumu better than anyone so you don’t take his actions to heart sometimes, it’s just…

“oi, oi! I know what you’re thinking, I saw you overthere doing things for tsumu. This guy, honestly…” Hinata sure saw you earlier with enthusiasm written on all over your face while preparing those towels and bottles, he felt bad for you and decided to cheer you up regardless atsumu has just cracked your poor heart a little.

“It’s okay, hinata. thank you for checking on me!” you smile wide, so my efforts wasn’t invalidated at all, gratefully bow down to see the awkward hinata trying to stutter words out.

“no- no, don’t do that, you are our manager, that’s just nothing! besides, seeing you give tsumu so special treatment makes me real jealous!!” he huffs cutely. “I really want that flavored electrolyte water, too! what a shame he wouldn’t notice.”

you laugh sheepishly as you guys return to your dorms to rest. things have been going hard for you like crazy, the work amount weighing on your shoulders make it almost unbearable, but you still stay strong and put a warm smile on your face so nobody would notices. you have been thinking of retiring just in case the situation just got worse to the level of destroying your mental health. but, by thinking of your small joy of seeing atsumu everyday, you hesitated.

your sleepless nights start when the important games take a step closer, you overworked yourself and often feel burnt out, your time with atsumu narrows as you find it hard to start a conversation even in lunch break. atsumu does feel weird. why isn’t y/n sit with us? she is nowhere to be found these days.

“hey, tsum-tsum” said bokuto. “what do you think of y/n?” he said, putting a tray of food on the table while making his way to sit.

“y/n? what’s with her?” the fake blond raises a brow, munching on his food

“I think she’s so cute and thoughtful, base on her affection for you, i betcha she’s completely smitten” the owl laughs as the other teammates giggle along. “you should consider on dating her, what a waste if you don’t, she’s literally girlfriend material, same thoughts huh, hinata?” he winks and the tangerine head give him back a thumbs up.

“dating y/n, huh?” atsumu laughs as if he doesn’t take bokuto’s statements seriously. “I don’t date my friends, you know. besides, y/n is just a close friend of mine, she ain’t my type”

“heartless tsumu… she worked so hard for you these days…” hinata fake crying when talking about you

“I know that she makes snacks and does things for me, but sometimes, that’s just unnecessary, i don’t need it to be all the damn time, it feels a little annoying, i just need to be alone to refresh my thoughts” he sighs. “now you told me to consider on dating her, i wouldn’t know how long i can take it.”

now there is dead silence following his statement, everybody just awkwardly continues finishing their lunch, and you do know eavesdropping is a thing that you shouldn’t do. but you did. before you even notice, hot streams cover your face and you feel your breath hitches. the coach sends you to check on the team at such wrong timing, you can’t face them, the voices earlier destroy your confidence, replace it with angst and hurt. so… what i did is just a bother to him, huh. you realize now, that you were such a dumbass trying to make him catch feeling by all of this. and with the tiniest amount of pride left, you back up a smile and step into the cafeteria, the atmosphere suddenly feels tense as everybody hasn’t been moving on since their last conversation, atsumu feels an uneasy feeling when he sees you behind him, guilt? he thinks.

“hey… coach sent me to check up on you guys, please be well rested at your dorms after lunch, we have practice match at 2pm, alright?” your voice evidently trembles, you try cover it up with some fake coughs. oh, who are you kidding? it’s atsumu miya we’re talking about. he first notices how your eyes are a bit swollen, have you been crying? your tired figure due to sleepless nights, the way you haven’t eaten properly shows right in front of his eyes. he suddenly felt a twinge in his heart, in which moment he never wanted to see you like this, ever again. but, what’s all this for? he doesn’t like you… right? because- you’re his best friend, and caring is what’s best friends do, am I correct?

you left the cafeteria. atsumu feels like his whole head is going to explode, he regrets what he said earlier, knowing seventy per cent that you might have listened to it. he is weak because of guilt and distaste. the group feels uneasy and moody all of a sudden.

“i haven’t told you this before but you’ve seen her now, tsumu… she overworked herself with this huge amount of work with nobody beside her, yet she still maintaining to take care of you with these small gestures.” hinata sighs heavily. “y/n told me not to tell you about her state so you can concentrate on practising, but I’m really worried because now she can’t even hide it anymore. I tried to help, but she pushed me away and told me that i should do my own practices as our game is going to start soon.”

hinata pats atsumu’s back before leaving as if he’s signalling him to make it up to you. atsumu started to cry at this point. how could he be so clueless? he didn’t even know that his best friend was undergoing such pressure, yet why does the term “best friend” sound so irritating? he felt like he had failed to protect you and worse, hurting your feelings and he regretted it, so badly.

The following day comes, atsumu's first task is to search for you. To his astonishment, you are once more nowhere to be found. he was so preoccupied, his spikes aren’t as good, and he could not concentrate on practising, the coach sent him out, and gave him a moment to rethink by himself. and so, he reaches a staff, asking for information about you.

“Y/n? oh… she’s at the infirmary, we noticed her devastated state so we sent her to the doctor a while ago. now think about it I might write a report to the coach asking him to reduce the amount of work she’s handling.”

“thank you, kind sir. may I be the one who’ll write the report? I’m sure I could convince the coach.”

as the man nods, atsumu bowed goodbye to him and sprints to the infirmary where you’re at. he knows, that if anybody should write a report for you, it must be him. he must protect you because he has just realised it now, he likes you a lot more than he could imagine.

“Y/N!” atsumu slams the door open, he faces you with your eyes widened, startled by the bright window.

“tsumu…?” you softly speak.

atsumu in front of your eyes is the atsumu who tries to hold back his tears, biting his bottom lip as the poor heart lurching somewhere in his stomach but somehow still happy because he has found you.

“hey…” he kneels down on one knee beside you. “i’m sorry, angel” his hand softly squishes the smaller one, it holds back gently on his’

in all of the things you dislike, what you utterly don’t want to deal with is your emotions when you see atsumu looking so vulnerable like this. you instinctually grab a tissue and wipe off the sweat drop on his forehead the moment you see it, atsumu’s worried expression won’t vanish unless you speak up something.

“hey…” you smile. “don’t worry, I’m okay now, tsumu” you fondly touch his face with a hand, and he sinks in your touch, eyes glittering. atsumu intentionally plants a soft kiss on your warm palm and watches you go weak for him.

“i like you, y/n” he sighs. “i don’t want us to be just friends. i want to protect you, want to be the kind of guy who mentally support his girl to help her cope with any pressure.”

he looks up to see your widened eyes, without a response, he continues.

“i’m sorry i said the things i didn’t mean when you were there, I was just…" he gulps nervously and you sigh.

"tsumu... if it's too much for you to bear, maybe i should stop doing those things, okay?" you scoff bitterly, he becomes panic

“no, no, no,... i really like the way you care for me, please, i want your attention. please keep doing it. don’t get tired of me…”

you can feel the pulse bumping in your nerves, your heart flutters, and blood rushes into your cheeks just by hearing his confession. you kneel down beside him, fighting back the tears but then you can’t, so you squish him in a hug. atsumu holds you back as you start sobbing on his white shirt, inhales fondly your intoxicating smell and pats rhythmically on your back

“there, there, my angel. i’m here now. i’m sorry i’m late. let me make this up for you, yeah?” he chuckles.

atsumu loves his girlfriend. after hearing you ramble about your tight schedule, he immediately writes a report based on your experience to inform the coach about your condition so that everyone can share in your responsibilities instead of you having to handle everything alone. it wasn’t that long for the msby mates to realize you guys are together, he wrote in that report that he is your boyfriend, anyway.

“you nailed it, tsumu-kun” hinata bumps him with a thumbs up, atsumu responds with a sheepish grin while bokuto laughs beside him and sakusa just doesn’t really give a shit.

he spots you standing on the opposite road near the brand new cafe, waving back to him smiling, “nah, gotta run. gonna treat my girlfriend with extra pastry today.”

i guess he is the simp now.

a recommendation to cope with your broken heart <3

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luveline · 3 months

Note

Hi, if you have time and any interest, would you write bombshell!reader comforting Spencer after the Maeve arc? Like maybe she’s the only one he lets in, and she just holds him and lets him cry and puts him first.

Will totally understand if you’d rather not/don’t reply!

ty for requesting!! <3 —You come home from months away to find Spencer in love and grieving, so you do what you can. fem, 2k

You didn’t expect Spencer to fall in love while you were gone, but you can’t begrudge him. Not for having feelings for someone who isn’t you, and certainly not for losing her.

You love him, and you’re his friend first.

Your shoes make sharp but steady sounds on the stairs up to his apartment. His building is old but not rundown, lacquered wooden bannister smooth under your hand, his front door immaculate, though the hallway is busy with baskets. There’s ribbon and cellophane everywhere. It’s a sorry sight.

You haven’t brought Spencer anything besides dinner. Unlike yourself, you take in the offerings of his friends and worry you aren’t as caring as you think you are.

Not that he seems in the mood to accept it.

You look down at your mary jane’s and wonder if you’re doing any of this stuff right. Spencer doesn’t even know you’re back in the country, let alone the state. Perhaps he has no interest in seeing you after this long apart, and after such a tragedy. Who wants to see their too flirty friend when they’ve just lost a real love?

You hike the tote up your shoulder. In a chequered skirt and a simple white t-shirt, you’re underdressed. The pasta you’d made and hurriedly wrapped up burns your hip where the bag rests against you, and you have to make a choice now. Let it burn you, standing and staring morosely at Spencer’s door, or face rejection.

You only need to hear his voice. He can leave your pasta out here on the floor if he likes. What’s important is that he’s still alive in there.

You knock on the door.

Nothing. Complete silence.

Nudging aside a basket of dried fruits, you try again. A simple rat-tat-tat.

“Hey, Spencer?” you ask too quietly.

He won’t hear you through the door. Your voice might as well be a whisper if he’s in his bedroom with the door closed.

“Spencer, are you okay, my love?” you ask, louder.

You wince at yourself. My love couldn’t be more raw.

“Sweetheart, I’m just here to see if you’re okay,” you say, knocking again, before leaving your hand to rest on the door. You lean forward, forehead kissing dark wood.

You can’t hear anything on the other side.

“Spencer,” you say with a reluctant swallow, “if you’re home, can you tell me? You don’t have to let me in. Just come to the door.”

Penelope said he hasn’t texted her back for days. Derek said he’d answered the phone once or twice, but beyond that he’s silent. You had a nightmare on the plane home that you’d come back to find him as he’s found his poor girl, or that he’d turn to old vices, or that he’d finally give up. He’s been strong through every horrible thing thrown his way, and now he’s all alone again—

The door opens slowly. You stand up straighter, your surprise a whack to the chest as your heartbeat picks up.

Spencer stands at the door. He looks more tired than you’ve ever seen him, his dark circles bruised like wine stains under his eyes, even his eyelids red and sore looking. His lips are almost colourless, they're so chapped, and his pyjama pants have deep, deep wrinkles at the knees.

“Hi,” you say. “Spencer, how are you?”

His voice rings with disuse. “You’re here.”

“Came straight home when they told me,” you say softly, honestly. “I knew I had to see you. To make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay.”

“I know.” You don’t know if it’s okay to ask to come in, if he’ll close the door at the suggestion, so you don’t. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” You put weight in the wrong places, too much on I’m, not enough on so. “I can’t imagine it. I would never wish this for you, never.”

“You were in Brazil.”

“I was.”

He must be tired of people asking if he’s okay, yet it wants to be asked. You bite it down, and instead offer what may be the key to getting in, or a quick dismissal.

“I made dinner for you, angel,” you say. You choose the pet name more carefully. He used to call you angel to make you feel better. “It’s just pasta, I tried not to make it too heavy in case you're nauseous.”

“I feel so sick,” he says.

Spencer’s curse is that he probably knows why he feels sick, and he probably knows a hundred different remedies or medications or prayers to get rid of it, but nothing can get rid of this feeling. You can be the smartest man alive and you’ll never outfox grief.

“Will you come in?” he asks.

You breathe a short, unbidden sigh of relief. He steps aside to let you in, and you gaze around at his shock of mess, books and blankets and furniture all in the wrong places, but it’s to be expected, and it doesn’t bother you beyond that empathetic hum of hurt tucked under your ribs. You approach his couch covered in books and put your tote bag atop them, turning to tell Spencer you’ll just quickly move these aside, and stopping dead when you see him. The door closed, his face pale, Spencer looks like everything is crumbling down around him. He looks horrified to have to watch, and he looks as sick as he’d confessed.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” you say, meaning it at its surface value. You’re sorry you were in a different country while he faced this alone. Beyond everything you’ve shared, you’re supposed to be his friend, and in a way you’ve let him down. “Please forgive me if you can, Spencer.”

He nods tightly.

“Let me move some of this stuff and we can sit down together, is that okay? Or do you need to go back to bed?”

“It’s okay.”

You do it without the grace his precious books deserve, lugging armfuls of them onto the floor, no time for tidying. You make spacious room for him and you, and your gesture gently for him to come and sit, fingers moving through the air slowly with the suggestion; he doesn’t have to listen if he doesn’t want to.

What is it about you that Spencer would let you in before anyone else? That he’d sit and watch you until you sat down, that his shoulders relax ever so slightly when you settle, your thighs aligned?

Maybe he needs someone who wasn’t there to watch it happen, and maybe you’re like family. You and Spencer may not be in love, but you love one another. Seeing him like this has you wishing you could fix it for him so keenly it’s like your hands are bruised. Pins and needles eat your fingers as you hold a hand to his elbow.

“What can I do?” you ask, murmuring so as not to disturb the quiet room.

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I don’t have anything for you to do, I just…” He squeezes his eyes closed. “I just wanted to see you. You’re the only person who– who–”

His voice lifts to a strangled high pitch as he covers his eyes with one hand.

“Can I give you a hug?” you ask.

He nods into his hand but doesn’t move. You have no qualms with making yourself big, wrapping him up, and guiding his hand away from his scrunched up face to hold you back.

You’re pretty pristine with hugs, as they go. You’re a soft touch. So Spencer holds you tightly and you cradle the back of his head, aware that you’re not who he really wants to be hugging, but okay with it nonetheless. “I’m so sorry,” you say, mouth to the top of his head, your hand stroking with light touches against the nape of his neck. “Spencer, it’s not fair.”

He starts shaking in your arms.

“The only time I got to talk to her face to face was with a gun to her head,” he says, his eye hot where it’s squished to the bottom of your cheek.

“Honey, you had something special,” you say, sort of guessing, because you had no idea Spencer was even talking to someone. Everything you know about the situation you learned from Hotch, but you can read from his level of distress how much she meant to him. “You don’t need to have been face to face to have shared something like that. Love is about connection, and I’m so sorry you don’t get to see her, but you– I’m sorry. You didn’t get all the time you deserved.”

You’d been trying to say that it doesn’t matter if he saw her or not, that their relationship was just as real no matter what, but you know he’s not just mourning her, but the possibility of a life with her he won’t get now.

“I tried everything I had to save her,” he says.

“I know you did. Sometimes we can’t do anything. It’s not your fault.”

He makes a low sound. He’s a quiet crier, sniffling and shaking against your neck.

You love him. Finding out he had a girlfriend was like being stabbed in the chest, an instant sickness, but finding out that she died? To see him in this much pain cuts deeper than a split second of thinking he’d moved on.

“You did everything you could. You did the best that you could. Spencer, you could’ve done everything right and she still wouldn’t have made it, because the world is cruel. This isn’t your fault.”

“It’s always gonna be my fault,” he says.

“No, it won’t be.”

“It will! I’m like a curse, we all are.”

You don’t know what to say. You consider offering placatives, but they’d be empty, and Spencer would know. Instead, you scratch a hand through his curls and try your best to be gentle.

“Well, I’m here for you. I know you know you have a whole team of people who want to be there for you, but I mean it, Spence. You can tell me everything. I’m here for you and I’m not leaving again.”

“You don’t have to go back?”

“I’m staying here.” For as long as you need me goes unsaid.

Spencer should rely on the kindness of all of his friends, and not just you. He needs love. Grief is going to eat him alive, just like it did with Emily; he’ll need everything from everyone, and, no offence to your friends and coworkers, you’re the most committed to giving it to him.

“I never should’ve left,” you say quietly, “but things are different now. You’re my best friend, Dr. Reid.” Your tone turns more playful. “I don’t cook for just anybody, you know?”

Maybe it’s a bit cringeworthy, but you really want him to stop crying.

He laughs weakly and wetly into your collar. “I don’t think I can eat it. I just throw everything back up.”

Aw, honey, you think. “How about a thin soup? I can make you something without any heavy creams. I make the best chicken soup around.”

“Do you?” he asks.

You want to kiss his cheek as you would’ve before you left, but things really are different now. You settle for patting his shoulder. “I do. We’ll have chicken soup, and some fresh bread, and– and you won’t have to pretend you aren’t miserable. Promise. You can be as sad as you want, honey, I just wanna sit with you and make sure it doesn’t get too much.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay.” You don’t want a thank you. “I’m glad to be home. Do you think you can get dressed? Let’s go get some stuff for dinner.”

Spencer, to your relief, gets up to get changed without complaint. He checks you’re still on the couch a few times from the doorway of his room. You have no plans on straying far.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Choose me.

Cregan Stark x reader

Summary: the reader reveals her fears. Cregan is there to reassure her that they are of no consequence.

Masterlist

........................................................................

"You've haven't been yourself as of late," Cregan noted as he entered their chambers. "What ails you?"

She looked up from the sofa, only to look away again, "Nothing. I… I am fine."

He sighed, fully entering the room and beginning to untie his cloak, "I'm tired of us ignoring one another. Let us put this past argument behind us."

She bit the inside of her cheek, "Forgive me for being so easily irritable."

He threw the cloak on the bed and rounded the back of the couch, leaning down to her. "I had never heard you raise your voice before."

She sighed, "I don't believe I had until then."

He kissed the crown of her head and moved away from the couch. "Why do you suppose that is then?"

She set her embroidery project aside, "It does not matter."

He frowned, "It does to me."

She shook her head, "It's only… the issues of a woman."

He moved in front of the couch now, tilting his head curiously, "your moon blood?"

She shrugged lightly, "Something of that sort."

He shook his head and sat next to her, "Don't do that. Don't shut me out."

"You deal with enough of your own problems, as well as the North's. You shouldn't have to deal with mine as well."

"You are my wife. I am supposed to love and care for you. And make you happy. Please allow me to."

She shifted to lean against the arm of the sofa and pull her legs up to her chest, "My body has been complicated as of late."

He gently pulled her legs out and onto his lap, caressing her ankle softly, "Complicated? How so?"

"My mood is off as if I have no control."

He paused in thought, "The only time I've witnessed this is during your moon blood. It all adds up, does it not?"

"I am not bleeding."

He frowned in pure confusion, "I thought-"

"I've not had it yet."

His brows lifted, "Ah. I see. When did you last have it?"

She hesitated and pulled her legs up to her chest again.

He sighed, "Answer honestly, please."

When she looked up at him with watery eyes, his expression softened, "Why are you crying?"

She rested her head on her knee to avoid eye contact and sniffled, "I dunno."

He shuffled closer and gently lifted her head to look at him. He wasn't going to let her avoid his gaze, "You're crying. Tell me the reason."

Her eyes welled up with more tears as she looked at him, "I'm frightened."

His brows furrowed, "Frightened?" He wanted to scoff, but it was clear this was no joking matter for her. "Of what?"

"Death."

A shudder went down his spine. He pulled her up and into his lap, "Tell me, my girl. Whose?"

She placed her hands on his chest and stared into his eyes, "Mine."

Cregan paused. "Why in the names of the old gods and the new would you be frightened of that so suddenly?"

She took a deep breath and her voice was barely heard, "I believe I'm with child."

As if ice cold water had been dunked on him, Cregan froze in place. "W…What?"

She pulled away and wiped at her cheeks.

"You… you're sure?"

She nodded, "I've not bled for… two months now."

He let out a shuddered breath. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"I… I can't…"

His eyes widened, "You can't what?"

She pulled away from him further and began to move from his lap.

His face fell, "Wait, no. No, no, no. Don't pull away, please."

He reached out frantically to pull her back, but she flinched away from him.

She began to lightly sob as she stood there.

Cregan stood up as well, holding his arms out wide for her, "Sweet girl…"

"You won't pick me."

He paused, completely lost, and beginning to panic, "What? What are you talking about? I'll always pick you." He stepped forward, "What do you-"

She flinched away again, harshly wiping at her cheeks when more tears came. Her breathing became more rugged as the moments passed.

He sighed lightly and spoke softly, "You've got to calm yourself. You'll faint panicking like that."

The breathing continued and she began to see stars so she sat herself on the floor.

He quickly knelt down, careful not to get too close, but near enough to comfort her.

She sniffled, "Like Aemma… you… you'll pick the babe over me…"

He suddenly understood.

"No," he said firmly. "No." He reached out, pulling her hand from her face to get her to look at him, "I won't. I would never pick the babe over you. Never."

She sniffled and shook her head reverently.

He felt his chest constrict. "You must believe me. Please."

Her eyes studied him intensely.

"If it came down to you or the babe, I would choose you. Every time, I would choose you."

Her voice was a croak, "You don't know that."

He felt like crying himself. "I do know that. Do not…" He took a breath to calm himself. "I love you more than anything. Trust me."

"Aemma trusted Viserys."

He shook his head, "What King Viserys wanted more than anything was an heir. I just want you."

Her puffy eyes met his, "What if you change your mind?"

"I am not changing my mind- not ever. Understand?"

Her eyes watered again, but she nodded.

"I want this with you. This child." He sighed, "But if you are in danger at any point, I will choose you. Without hesitation."

She sniffled as she considered his words.

He held out his arms again, "C'mere."

She clambered into his lap, practically melting into him once there.

He held her tightly, determined to reassure her through touch alone.

"You're my girl. Death will not find you while you're in my arms."

............................................................................

Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor

#cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark #cregan stark x you #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x female reader #cregan fanfiction #fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones imagine #house of the dragon

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evilminji · 5 months

Text

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #Tea Shop of Mysteries AU #alfred pennyworth

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ghosts-bandwagon · 2 years

Note

omg, imagine how the 141+ könig would react if reader fell asleep on them? not in a relationship i mean, maybe they are just sitting on the couch in the common room and reader is tired and falls asleep on one of them?

This is precious and also a mood lmao

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Doesn’t move a single. fucking. inch.

The man goes rigid in his attempt not to wake you, he knows how hard you work so it’s no wonder you’re nodding off in the common area, so to him, there’s nothing wrong with getting some rest

So he’s sitting there with his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread (as usual), and he’s fighting the urge to rest his head on yours, not his fault you seemed so comfortable

He’s glaring at every poor bastard and dares them to even try and make a comment

Needless to say, your sleep is undisturbed

Eventually you wake up and start apologizing profusely

“Don’t worry about it, sergeant. Just get to bed yeah?”

As you walked away, he rolled his shoulders and rubbed his neck

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He’s got his arms on the back of the sofa and behind your head and he starts to feel a weight against his chest

Then he looks down and sees you nestled up against him, your head on his chest and he’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making noise

You. are. precious.

100% takes a selfie with you (and Gaz in the background throwing a peace sign)

After the initial thrill settles down, his arm that was draped along the back of the sofa has now come to rest against your own

You’re so warm and the weight of you on his chest is so grounding and soothing, the steady rise and fall of your chest, it’s all so relaxing

Soon enough, he’s nodding off too and he winds up with his head almost draped over the back of the sofa, snores coming out of his mouth

(Gaz definitely filmed it)

Eventually his snoring wakes you up and you can’t help the embarrassment at falling asleep against your teammate like that, still you felt bed that you essentially trapped him there so you gently shook him awake

He massaged the back of his neck with a groan and a wince, your hands replaced his as you gently ushered him upright,

“Come on, Soap, I owe you.”

John Price:

He’s low key melting as soon as he feels your head on his shoulder, he takes a quick glance at you and chuckles

He lets you have a few minutes, knowing full well how tired you are, before he gently jostles his shoulder to softly rouse you before you dozed off deeper,

“Think it’s time to hit the sack, don’t you?” His voice is low as he leans in close,

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Don’t be. Get some rest, see you in the morning.”

He’s kind of touched and honored that you feel safe enough to fall asleep against him like that, honestly, he would’ve let you sleep there as long as you wanted

But he knows the comfort of one’s own bed is second to none, and he’d hate for you to wake up with a kink in your neck

And maybe his bones were getting a little stiff and uncomfortable from having to stay still for so long

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He’s smiling softly to himself and resting his head on yours

He does that thing where you shift in your seat a bit to get comfortable and he shuffles a little lower so he can rest his head against yours

And he falls asleep too!

And honestly it’s the best sleep either of you has ever had because no one has been successful in waking you up, short of shouting or dumping water on you

You wind up waking up first and it’s already morning, you stretch and gently shake him awake,

“Gaz, we slept through the night.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, you laughed quietly and took his arm to stand him up,

“I think we’ve got just enough time to sleep a little longer.”

“What’s the point? We’re already awake.” He reasoned with a yawn and a stretch, “Come on, I’ll make coffee and then we can hit the showers yeah?”

König:

Doesn’t move a single muscle. Like Ghost, he gets quite stiff at first as soon as he feels your head against his arm (even sitting you down you barely reach his shoulder)

So he shuffles a little in his seat until your head is at a more comfortable angle and is resting against his shoulder

But now this means that his spine is curving in uncomfortable shapes, and a good portion of his butt isn’t even on the couch anymore

He wouldn’t dare wake you but holy shit his back hurts

So he slowly and carefully maneuvers you into his arms so now he’s sitting normally and he’s got you on his lap with your head tucked against his chest

He’s got his arms around you to support you and then he realizes that it’s not that much more comfortable

Eventually he gives up and winds up carrying you to your room

You wake up the next morning with a cup of coffee on your nightstand and a sticky note with your name on it (and a little heart)

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jwonsoon · 6 months

Text

Enhypen's reactions to you being super talkative when they're tired ⋆.˚ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

☾ a/n: It has been a minute !!! Me and bff have been so so busy since it's our final semester of high school. But I am here to provide for my delusional folk <3 I honestly wrote this on a whim because I've been feeling extra insane lately with all the work I have to do so ignore any stupid mistakes I make in this. I want to post more on here for sure, senior year is coming to a close soon and me and bff are moving into a new university together so hopefully we'll have time for more posts. Okay enough yapping, go read! pairings: enhypen x g/n reader genre: fluff

cw: kissing (nothing crazy dw), ignore grammatical errors!

JUNGWON

He doesn’t care if his life is on the line, the last thing he’s going to do is make you feel rushed when you’re talking about something you’re genuinely interested in.

He finds you SO cute when you’re mumbling about something that you enjoy !! He gazes at you with his boba eyes nodding along to everything you say

“Oh my god sorry I’m talking so much” you say to him embarrassed at how comfortable you’ve gotten in his presence and how he’s probably so tired

He’ll immediately shake his head no and tell you “keep talking i love listening to you”

Because he’s tired he pulls you into a hug and plays with your hair while you talk.

His sign that he’s tired is when he gets really touchy. Like he is all of a sudden kissing your forehead and playing with your cheeks which is usually a sign for you to call it a day…

JAKE

We all know this guy cannot for the life of him control his sleepiness but he loves you so he makes his adjustments

Its a shame but this guy is NOT !!! LISTENING !!!

He’s cuddling you and you’re yapping away he’s going to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck and just keep going “mhm, i see”

You notice that he isn’t listening so you ask a question to throw him off and he responds with “yeah totally” making you chuckle.

He looks up flustered realizing he just admitted to not paying attention to you.

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” He pouts leaning to kiss you.

“Im listening I just need a minute” he spends that “minute” sleeping on your arm and then he sits up shaking his head like a puppy trying to wake himself up.

Claps, sits up, “Okay! talk! I’m up.”

HEESEUNG

He’s always up fighting his sleep to play video games anyway so he’s the most prepared in situations like these

If he notices your in a particularly chatty mood and he’s sleepy, he will drag both of you out of bed and make sure you’re sitting up so that he isn’t prone to falling asleep on accident

You’re talking and talking and he is giving the same exact energy back!! he will laugh and giggle at everything

When he’s really getting tired he yawns out loud and goes “baby.. im a bit sleepy.. actually no no keep going, just come here”

He’ll open his arms wide for you to lay on his chest while you talk

You notice his eyes are closed so you stop and start getting up only for him to pull you back down and say “just stay here, i like listening to your pretty voice”

SUNGHOON

He is so in love with you. it is PATHETIC!

He is so sleepy too and looks insanely cuddly so whenever you are talkative you lay facing him and talk his ear off while hugging him

He is way too in love to tell you that you need to please shut up because he is SO TIRED so instead he kisses you to ease his tiredness away

“That girl” —kiss “is so” —kiss “annoying” —kiss

“Hoon stopp” to which he kisses you again, mumbling against your lips “I’m listening baby”

SUNOO

No matter how tired he is it fades away when hes with you

You’re always spilling the latest gossip to Sunoo and he eats it up everytime.

“She actually has something against me” you say to which Sunoo responds “how could anyone hate this cute face” pinching your cheeks

You brush his hand away and jokingly roll your eyes and thats all it takes for his cuteness aggression to launch through the roof

He is all of a sudden squeezing you tight going “Why are you so cute you’re just so cute you’re so cute”

He is literally holding you shaking your shoulders while smiling so big going “No tell me!!! why are you so cute??”

“Sunoo you’re scaring me” you say to which he responds “Good! I’m pissed off you’re perfect.”

You guys will literally spend the whole night talking, Sunoo literally forgot that he was tired in your presence

JAY

He is half asleep walking through the door

But! that doesn’t stop him from at least pretending to listen to you

As he’s putting his stuff down you are following him around talking about the ending of the show that you just watched

Hes humming in response and smiling to himself

He stops suddenly turns to face you pulling you in for a hug “Baby I’m so tired today i dont know why….” sighing into your arms

He didn’t want to explicitly say to you please shut up but it was definitely a sign to you to take it down a notch

He’d look down to kiss you on the lips and say “Let’s talk in bed hm?”

When you guys are in bed he lets you lay on his chest and he says “Now tell me all about that show you were talking about”

He will listen to you, or at least try to, but with his fingers playing with your hair you are slowly lulled to sleep.

He'll look at you, smile, kiss your forehead and you will wake up confused as to how he shut you up so quickly.

NI-KI

Riki is definitely a little more honest but thats what you love about him!

“I can see all your teeth babe, what’s got you cheesing?” he says to you as he sits down on the bed

“I have so much to tell you!” you say to him patting the space beside you for him to come and lay in.

“And I have so much sleep to catch up on!” He says mockingly as he lays down next to you. You pout to which he kisses you and says “Go on, talk my ear off”

You start going off on a tangent and he is just looking at you with a boxy smile on his face and laughing at how your facial expressions are so dramatic in comparison to the light hearted story you’re telling

He stares at you with glistening eyes after his 40th yawn in a row

“You know you talk too much, right? It’s a good thing you’re cute” he would say pulling you into a hug

“That’s rude! and I wasn’t don—” you are interrupted by a kiss on the lips

“I promise to listen all day tomorrow, okay? Let’s sleep now?” He says rubbing circles on your back, with his eyes already closed.

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cherryredstars · 5 months

Note

Hey sweetie hoping you're doing well

What about a college au where Miguel is a punk and reader is a smarty coquette? And Miguel is very teasing with her to catch her attention... Very enemies to lovers (with smut)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff, Penetrative Sex, Slight Mentions of Bondage

Summary: He loves how you wear your ribbons.

A/N: This request is so cutesy!! I hope you're doing well too, love!

Unedited

You hate him.

Which hurts you to say because you really do try your best not to hate anyone. But Miguel O'Hara makes it very easy to hate someone. You're just so tired of him! It's like he makes it his life mission to make you angry. Which makes you even more mad because he likes seeing you angry because he just loves making fun of how you look when you're mad!

He's always trying to annoy you. He finds it hilarious to pull on the ends of your bows, making them uneven and loose. You have to spend well over 5 minutes trying to fix your hair while he snickers about it. He's always pulling you back by tugging on your necklace of the day, maybe even pulling the ends of your styled hair. To him, there is always something nasty to point out about your carefully crafted outfits, let it be the quaint design, the ruffles, or even the freaking soft color of it. He finds some sick enjoyment in messing up your aesthetic notebooks and pens, removing the small decorations off of them when you're not looking or dirtying them with graphite stains. He always has to comment about something. He's making fun of the stuff he sees you liking on social media when he's being nosy. Has to tell you how utterly trash your music taste is as a Lana Del Ray song is sung under your breath. Can't let you have an ounce of peace when you talk about how badly you want the new Sonny Angels collection or looking for a specific Calico Critters set. Don't even get him started about all the pastel, cute items you have saved on Pinterest or on your home decor wish list.

But honestly, Miguel is a sucker for everything about you. He's constantly on his knees every time you walk into the lecture hall wearing your frilly skirts and dresses. Damn near collapses of a heart attack when he pulls on the silky bows in your hair or on your necklaces and the sweet smelling perfume you wear hits his nose. He's itching to steal one of your pens so he can have it everywhere he goes or taking a peak into your notebook to look at the dainty notes you are so concentrated on taking. He likes peering into your ribbon-filled world, trying to understand the 'relatable' posts you like about your favorite things. His browsing history is of the little toys you keep mentioning, an occasional search for room decor breaking the stream of Sonny Angels links. He has that one Lana Del Ray Album that you keep singing saved to his music app, and he much prefers your covers.

He finds luck where you find despair. While he loves the fact your professors always pair you two together because of your smarts, you find dread in knowing you can't escape him throughout the weekdays. You always have a pout on your glossy lips as you reluctantly take your seat next to him, your tote bag falling on the long desks with a thump to further emphasize your mood. It makes him chuckle, seeing your obvious dislike of being around him. It makes his heart skip a beat every time you turn to him, warning him in a low whisper to not get on your nerves today. In turn, he should be telling you not to distract him. He can't count how many times he's stopped paying attention to the lecture because he's watching you reapply your lip gloss or fix your hair from the corner of his eye. He's paralyzed for a good minute when you spray your perfume, leaning his arm the slightest bit out so the smell can cling to his leather jacket throughout the day.

But he finds himself the luckiest when he's walking through your dorm room for a project, taking in the distinct smell of you and a room that looks exactly like your Pinterest boards. He isn't exactly sure how it happens, but one second your notebooks are sprayed out against the covers of your bed, and the next they're a crumpled mess on your floor as he has you pinned under him. Your soft bed sheets have nothing on your skin as his rough hands travel up your legs and arms, pulling down the straps of your dress and untying them from the back. He's never been more in love with your bows than the moment your dress slips off your body to reveal the small bows decorating your underwear. It makes him groan as he slips them off your body, making a mental note to please take them home with him when he's done.

As much as he loves the ribbons in your hair, he can't help but think how pretty you look when your hair falls around your shoulders. He much prefers the look of the silk ribbon around your wrists, making sure the ends are even and the bow is tied in perfect loops. Your glossy lips look divine as they drop open in a moan as he pushes into your tight cunt, obsessed with the way your walls pulsate around his leaking cock. And the way you call out his name in that wobbly tone, so different from the low hisses you usually give him, has him gritting his teeth to will himself not to shoot his load so soon. His mind is as loopy as your bows when he buries his face in your neck, huffing at the smell of vanilla cherry and sweat and sex on your skin. He feels like he's in paradise, and even the low tones of Lana's voice filling the room doesn't take away anything from the moment.

Don't question him when that pink ribbon around your wrists goes missing after this, because there is no way in hell he isn't taking that home with him too.

Part 2 Part 3

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veritasangel · 2 months

Text

COD men on your birthday

ft. simon, price, gaz, soap

⋆ ˚｡⋆ any pov ୨୧˚ warnings: suggestive in Price's and nsfw mentions in Simon's {mdni}

↣ it's my birthday in like 2 hours so i'm in a birthday mood :)

wc: 1.6k

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

More of a small gestures kind of guy.

The gifts he’s gotten you are things you’ve briefly mentioned over the year and he just has a list that he added to whenever you said you liked something.

Birthday sex??? Absolutely yes.

You hated opening presents in front of people but honestly as you opened Simon’s gifts, he looked more anxious than you.

“Should I be scared of what’s in here?” you ask, “‘cause you look like you’re about to shit your pants.”

“Shut up- It’s nothing bad.” he grumbles, sinking into the sofa, eyes focused on where you're unwrapping one of the gifts.

You laugh a little as you think back to the first birthday of yours that you spent with him, it was early into your relationship and back then he had no clue.

He asked Price what to get and he just said ‘get something that you would be happy to receive’ and well he kinda took that literally. Bought you a bunch of cool knives that were definitely not on the top of your birthday list, probably not at the bottom of it either.

And since then, he started to make a list every year and any time you mentioned something you liked, it would get added. So, the gifts you were currently opening were all perfectly tailored to your likes and you’d absolutely love them. Simon just gets anxious because after you open the gifts, you always gush about how perfect he is and spend forever rambling about him, making him reluctantly blush, when it’s supposed to be your day.

But once that initial feeling subsides, he feels pride because he is the best boyfriend and he knows it. And as the day goes on, he gets bolder and bolder, telling you there’s one more gift you haven’t seen.

“But that’s all I think I’ve mentioned.”

“There’s one more you've mentioned before, many times actually.” And as he says that, he pulls out some pretty red rope, holding it up for you with a grin.

“No way-” you begin, jaw already dropping, “I can use it on you?” and you were practically already jumping for joy.

“As it’s your birthday, I’ll allow you to tie me up and take control one time, okay? This is the only chance.”

And Simon’s already regretting it when he can see your smile, knowing you’re plotting a million things.

John 'Soap' MacTavish

He’s honestly more excited than you are, wakes you up at 5am because he can’t wait to surprise you.

He has the whole apartment decorated, and I mean every single room.

Stayed up late making a homemade cake that doesn’t look the best but he insists it tastes amazing.

“Johnny! Not again, please god, it’s–” you lean over and check the time on your phone, “It’s ten past 5, in the morning.” you sigh, rolling back over in bed.

“And ten past 5 is generous sweetheart, I’ve been up for way longer, practically did an all nighter, come you gotta see the place-” he rambles excitedly as he takes your hand and almost pulls you out of the bed.

“Baabyy-”

“Shush, you’ll love it.” he grins as he helps you stand up straight, throwing one of his sweatshirts on you for warmth, “Oh my god and happy birthday! I literally forgot the key part, it’s your birthday!” he beams as he cups your cheeks and leans down to pepper kisses all over your face.

And as tired as you are, you can’t help but smile at how lucky you are to have someone who adores you as much as he does. He holds his hands over your eyes as he walks you out of the bedroom and into the living room, eventually letting you open your eyes to see the space that was your living room, but now looks more like your worst nightmare.

Balloons on every surface, you can hardly see the floor. Banners up on the wall with...

Is that blu tack? He better hope that comes off.

A mountain of presents, even though you told him not to go overboard.

And is that christmas tinsel on the doorframes?

He must’ve run out of the billions of other decorations because you soon find out that every room looks like this, even the kitchen.

“Crazy thought, but I think it’s a fire hazard to put birthday streamers around the oven, Johnny.”

“Well obviously, but we’re not even using the thing today, because we are going to be eating the amazing cake I made you.” he grins, bringing out a huge cake with messy frosting and a big happy birthday across it.

“Well, what do you think?”

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Lets you take the reins to decide how you want the day to go, rather than imposing things on you.

Definitely doesn’t host a surprise party in case you hate them (i absolutely despise them)

He lets you sleep in and does whatever you want for the day.

You want to stay home and chill? Perfect. You wanna go out for dinner? He’s making a reservation asap.

“Hey uh, Kyle–” you begin quietly, waiting until the waiter walks away, “When I said we could eat out for dinner, I was kind of thinking like-”

“Like?”

“I don’t know, something not so expensive. Have you seen how much they’re charging for the starters alone??” you exclaim, eyes widening.

“Well I got that nice bonus from work, didn’t I? Besides we have that savings account for times like these. Or well I think your birthday definitely warrants dipping into that account a little.” he says nonchalantly as he admires your look from across the table.

You go to object but he nudges you with his foot as if to say 'don’t argue with me on this'.

So you just give in, smiling as you look over at him, he looks good all dressed up, like really good.

Much to your disapproval he orders the finest wine the place has and you just know you don’t want to look at the bill tonight.

“Kyle, are you sure?”

“Baby, if you ask me that one more time, I swear I’m gonna’ tell them it’s your birthday and watch your embarrassed face when they come out here singing to you.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Try me.” he gives you a pointed look with a raised eyebrow and you immediately shut up, opting to enjoy the meal and the conversation throughout the evening.

He always treats you so well and tonight was no different. But honestly as much as you enjoyed being treated like royalty, you hated that he was sitting so far from you, of course that was dramatic, you were in front of each other, but you just wanted to be sitting beside him or on his lap.

And Gaz agreed, which is why when he scooped you up and carried you to the car, he was saying that maybe next year you should just order a takeaway and make-out in front of the tv like when you were younger.

And honestly with him? You wanted nothing more.

John Price

He goes all out, breakfast in bed, lunch, dinner, everything.

Waits on you, hand and foot in general but 1000x more on your birthday.

Definitely ignores work calls on the day, his focus is on you and they can either wait or call someone else.

You awake to the lovely smell of breakfast and you just snuggle up in your duvet, savouring the warmth and the remnants of sleep as you wait for John to emerge from the kitchen.

Unbeknownst to you, it takes a while before he approaches the bedroom because he burnt the bacon 3 times. How? He has no idea, but he needs this breakfast to be perfect so he repeats it again and again until he has it right.

Eventually he makes his way over to the bedroom, opening the door and singing happy birthday as he brings over a tray of freshly prepared breakfast. It’s full of a range of things you love, probably too much to eat honestly but he claims more is better than less, that way he can pick at it too, and you know he will.

“Soo, how is my sweet little angel feeling on their birthday?” he asks, leaning against the headboard as he watches you adoringly, one hand resting on your lower back.

“Good, very good, especially if I get a massage after eating this.” you smile as you turn around and lean in to kiss him softly.

“Oh I can give you a massage-” he grins into the kiss and you laugh as you pull back slightly, your nose against his, “I mean a normal massage.” you clarify.

“Um, so do I, you’re the one with the dirty mind, love.” he teases, leaning back in to steal another kiss from you and he can taste the sweet fruit on your lips

“You’re such a liar.” you mumble into the kiss, “I know how you think.”

“Well you're wrong-” he starts, before his phone rings, pulling the two of you out of the moment as he checks it, work.

Shakes his head as he instantly messages Laswell:

Unless it’s asap, keep them off my ass today. It’s my partner's birthday.

༄ cod m.list ༄ reblogs are appreciated if you like it

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Text

“Fuck, fuck, shit.” Simon cursed as he ran to the kitchen. He’d lost track of time again, and in the process, burnt the chicken that was supposed to be your dinner for the night.

How did you always make cooking look so effortless? Simon could recall in the dozen times he’d watched you cook for him, how you’d dance around the kitchen with your beautiful head in the clouds.

He sighed deeply before throwing out the chicken, frustrated with himself that he couldn’t cook a single dish right today. He’d been in the kitchen all day trying various recipes, and ended up wasting nearly your entire fridge of food in his attempts.

Simon ran a hand through his hair, frowning as he now had nothing planned for tonight, and had a little over an hour until you’d come home. You’d had a long week, and he figured the least he could do for you was to make you dinner.

With seemingly no other options, Simon decided to go with his last resort- takeout. He’d remembered you said that you wanted to try the new diner down the road, so he quickly dialed the restaurant and ordered something he was sure you’d like, including your favorite bottle of wine.

With ten minutes to spare, Simon raced through the front door, and began to set up the kitchen table for your arrival. He set out your favorite candles, poured each of you a size-able amount of wine, and out the food from the takeout containers, setting it all neatly on the table.

Upon hearing the click of the front door, Simon quickly put the finishing touches on the table, before making his way over to you- his eyes softening as they landed on your tired frame. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You looked up at your boyfriend, your foul mood immediately forgotten upon looking at the shy smile lining his lips. “Hey, Si.”

Simon walked over to you, grabbing your coat from you and placed it on the back of the couch. He turned back to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pressing another kiss to your nose. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starved.” You groaned, grabbing Simons outstretched hand and following him into the kitchen.

You felt tears tricking the corners of your eyes as you took in the sight of the table Simon had prepped for you. You looked over at him, and found him wearing a proud expression. “Oh, Simon you didn’t have to-.”

“Don’t even finish that thought. Just sit, and eat, yeah?” He gestured to your chair, which he held out for you. You giggled slightly as you sat in your chair, and looked down at the food in front of you.

“This looks incredible, Si.” You said in awe, before placing the napkin in your lap.

“I’ll certainly say you make dinner look like a breeze. I uh..didn’t have the easiest time with what to do for tonight.” Simon chuckled, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

“Oh my god, this is amazing. You cooked this yourself?” You asked, your eyes practically rolling in the back as you took a bite of the food.

He was going to tell you, he honestly was, but with the way you were looking up at him in complete admiration had Simons heart melting, and before he knew what he was doing, he was nodding at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Yeah, ‘s nothin.”

“Nothing my behind. You’ll be Chef Riley from now on this house. This is incredible, all of it. Thank you.” You praised, practically beaming up at your boyfriend.

Simon felt his cheeks burn red at your praise as he continued to eat, occasionally stealing glances at you throughout dinner.

Conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you finished eating, and Simon could see the weight of the day visibly leaving your shoulders as you began to relax into your chair.

Simon stood and bent down to place a lingering kiss to your lips, causing you to moan softly against him. You sighed deeply before pulling away from him. “I should help you clean this up.”

“Don’t worry about clean up, love, that’s my job come mornin’. You’re my priority right now.” He spoke, as he looped his arm underneath your thighs and began to carry you bridal style toward the bedroom. “Be a good pup and let me take care of you.”

You, of course, would never mention the takeout containers you found in the trash can the next morning - after all, “Chef Riley” did have a nice ring to it.

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2

5K notes · View notes

osarina · 1 month

Text

ᡣ𐭩 MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE NEVER BEFORE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: your patience is thinning. despite having a conversation with dazai and being led to believe everything is okay, he's suddenly avoiding you again. luckily, or maybe unluckily, his hand is forced when he realizes that you're not waiting for him this time. whether he likes it or not, this confrontation is happening—except you slowly realize as it goes on that dazai's definition of intimacy is dreadfully different from yours.

{wordcount: 10.4k; ņsfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, i wouldn't say this is angst but it does deal with some references to heavy topics; jealous!dazai, depictions of dissociation (dazai), dazai's on the brink of a mental breakdown for a bit in the beginning, references to abuse (dazai. no actual depictions), references to dubcon (dazai. no actual depictions), dazai is wildly intelligent but not so much when it comes to sex & other forms of intimacy (he is quite uneducated in fact), slight oral (male rec), unprotected sex, sub!dazai, dazai and reader argue for a bit (he calls her a whore - doesn't mean it but still says it)}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: 😒i hope you guys know im sitting here glaring at my computer because i did not want to post this fic. it's been sitting in my google drive for like AGES and im literally having to physically force myself into formatting this post because i wanted to keep it hoarded forever. anyway, read the warnings for this one pretty pls, this fic is a bit loaded—not exactly angst, but it references some heavy topics. let me know if any warnings are missing as always!

“I’m so sick and tired of him.”

You listen as Chuuya lets out another heavy sigh next to you, pointedly taking a sip of his wine, but you don’t even bother to glance at him as you glare down at your phone. Left on read, again, Dazai ignores your message asking him to meet you and Chuuya at the bar. You slam your phone down on the dark wood of the bar top before reaching for your own glass, taking a large gulp of it before opening your mouth to continue complaining, much to Chuuya’s displeasure.

“I thought things would be different after we talked. He moved back into my apartment but he’s still avoiding me like the fucking plague. I mean Christ, I broke up with my boyfriend, came crawling back to him because I knew he was pissed even though he’d rather kill himself—literally—than admit he likes me. Why the fuck can’t he even given an inch? Meet me halfway?”

“Because he’s Dazai,” Chuuya says dryly. “What did you expect from him, honestly? … And we all know you weren’t going to stick with that civilian.”

“Oh, shut up,” you tell him bitterly. “That’s not the point. The point is I did, and I went right to him, and we talked, and he acted like everything was fine, and now he’s pulling this shit. How is he going to live in my fucking apartment and avoid me at every corner? And whenever I do manage to catch him, he makes up some bullshit excuse about a mission I know he doesn’t have and disappears.”

You lean back in your chair, brows furrowed and fingers curled around your glass. By now, all of the people that had been sitting near the two of you at the bar have dispersed to the dancefloor—if your arrival with Chuuya hadn’t been enough to send them scattering, your foul mood was more than enough to make them give you a wide berth.

“I’m frustrated,” you finally hiss. “I’m just frustrated, am I allowed to be frustrated, Chuuya?”

Chuuya side-eyes you. “Stop fuckin’ complaining to me about it and do something about it, jeez,” he says, hand sliding into his pocket to pull out a cigarette, holding it between his lips as he fumbles for a lighter to light it.

“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” you ask, becoming increasingly more irritated as you pull out your own lighter to light it for him. “I tried talking to him, now he’s ignoring me.”

Chuuya has the audacity to roll his eyes, looking at you with an unimpressed expression that makes you want to pluck his cigarette out of his mouth and put it out on his skin. As if he can hear your thoughts, he leans back, giving you a suspicious look.

“I’m not talking about that shithead,” Chuuya drawls. “If you’re so frustrated, go find some sorry bastard to fuck it out of you. We both know that’s all it takes to get you to settle down.”

“Fuck you,” you say instantly, not appreciating how he acts like you’re a nympho. But already, your gaze is carding across the room, trying to see if someone catches your eye. When you find yourself disappointed, you look back at him and ask, “You offering yourself up?”

Chuuya barks out a laugh. “Fuck no,” he tells you instantly. “No way. Don’t even say that shit to me.”

You’re almost offended, squinting at him and leaning back in your seat. “Why not? Like old times. You know what I like, I know what you like, we can make a good night out of it,” you propose as you lean your elbow on the bartop and observe him.

“Because shitty Dazai will never let me hear the end of it if he finds out,” Chuuya says pointedly, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Bastard is annoying as is, if he finds out I’ve slept with you? It’d be the end of the world.”

“You have slept with me though, Chuuya,” you taunt. “Who’s to say I won’t tell him anyway?”

You won’t, but you like the way Chuuya’s lip curls up in irritation around his cigarette.

“Go ahead,” he tells you. “I’ll tell him all about that time in Osaka.”

You gasp, scandalized. “Chuuya,” you hiss. “You would not. You swore.”

“Try me,” Chuuya says, raising his eyebrows at you, looking all too smug as you flounder for a response.

Humbled, and a bit mortified, you return to looking around the club, lowering your standards this time. You spot a blonde standing in the corner of the club, eyes flitting around curiously as he observes the people on the dancefloor, and a redhead laughing wildly as she spins with a drink in hand, teetering off to the edge of the floor. You purse your lips.

“No one is catching my attention,” you complain, sinking back down in your seat.

You decidedly don’t like the smirk that edges onto his lips as he looks at you, and it’s for good reason, because the next words out of his mouth have your eye twitching: “You’re that down bad for him already? Jesus.”

“I am not,” you spit out, glaring at him before pointedly returning to your hunt, looking around more intensely this time.

But even as you do that, you start to wonder if that’s why no one is standing out to you tonight. How the fuck is anyone supposed to compare to Dazai Osamu? The thought is ridiculous—you don’t want to tug at blonde hair to pull someone down into a kiss, you don’t want a head of tousled red locks buried between your thighs, there’s only one person you actually want in your bed and he’s been avoiding you since you talked things out with him.

You let out a heavy sigh, considering just admitting defeat, but then your eyes drift to a tall, dark haired man entering the club, making his way over to the bar; his hair is a bit too long and a bit too straight, and his eyes aren’t the right shade, but they’re sharp enough and you’re tipsy enough to willfully confuse them for the familiar brown you desire.

“Nevermind,” you breathe out. Chuuya doesn’t even spare you a goodbye as you slip from your seat to make your way over to the man, lifting his hand in a lazy wave. “I found someone.”

Chuuya was right.

You think maybe you should stop doubting him as much as you do. This is not the first time that you’ve fought him tooth and nail about something only for him to be proven right in the end. But you’re not going to tell him that because he has a big enough ego and you’re not going to feed into it.

Dealing with Dazai’s fickleness the past two weeks has been much easier now that you’re fucking out your frustrations with strangers as soon as he’s gone for the night on whatever mission Mori assigns him. You take his aloofness in stride, ignoring the way he blows you off and avoids you in your own home. You think it’s bothering him, actually, because now when you walk past him without a second glance, you can see the way he hesitates from the corner of your eye, an indecipherable expression crossing over his face.

Good, you think. You hope he feels like shit.

You let out a soft breath as you tilt your head to the side, giving the man you’re with better access. From the corner of your eye, with the tousled brown hair, you can almost pretend it’s him, but you know it’s not. His hair isn’t as soft as Dazai’s, who all but hijacked your expensive shampoos and conditioners, and you can’t feel the bandages that should be tucked beneath the tufts of hair. Your mind starts to drift, comparing how you think Dazai’s touch would be to this man’s. When you first kissed him, he was unsure and hesitant, would he still be now? Or has he grown more confident? You think he must’ve, you’ve seen him with people during events, lips tilted up in a sensual smile, lashes fluttering as he leads them into one of the backrooms.

Sick and unfair, you think to yourself bitterly.

You let out a heavy, disappointed sigh.

“You good?” the man asks—you don’t remember his name, you don’t even know if you cared to ask. His voice is distinctly different from Dazai’s low hum whenever he teases you, a total immersion-break from your desired reality.

You roll your eyes, irritated. “Don’t speak.”

The man lets out a noise of agreement, fingers biting a bit harder into your waist as he continues kissing down your neck. You don’t really mind, the sting is nice, just enough force to draw your mind away from Dazai. The sigh you let out is more pleased now, eyes slipping shut as his hands slide up your body, kisses trailing down your neck to your collarbone. His lips are too soft; Dazai’s are horribly chapped no matter how much chapstick you force on him.

Dazai is out on another “mission”. You don’t even know if it’s a real mission or if he’s just claiming it’s a mission so he doesn’t have to stick around the apartment while you’re there, lowering the chances of running into you. For all you know, he’s just going back to that shitty shipping container he spent a year in and hanging out there until you leave for one of your own missions or a meeting. He looked particularly sullen as he left earlier, casting looks back to where you’d disappeared into the kitchen, not realizing you could still see him before he finally left your apartment.

He’s such a pain in the ass, you think, getting irate again as he drifts back into your thoughts. He makes everything so difficult, things would be so much easier he just admitted that he wanted to be with you. You really don’t know how much more of this back and forth, wishy-washy shit you can take from him. You care about Dazai. You do. Probably more than anyone else in your life and you’re sick of him taking it for granted.

You hum in approval when the man lifts his hands to your button-up, hesitating as he waits for your consent, and your gaze flicks up to the ceiling as he continues kissing down the revealed skin; from the crook of your neck to your collarbone, between your breasts, he unbuttons all the way to your navel.

You find yourself a bit bored, counting the specks on the ceiling, taking note of the crack that you’re sure is somehow Dazai’s fault. You think there must only be two more buttons left for him to undo before you can slide the shirt off of your shoulders but you start to feel uncomfortable under his touch, you feel prickly and his lips trailing down your body makes your skin crawl.

“Off,” you finally say, voice sharp. You press your hand against his shoulder to push him off of you, sitting up straight to sit properly on the couch. You scowl as you fumble through your pants pockets to find a cigarette.

This is Dazai’s fault somehow.

“Did I do something wrong?” the man asks hesitantly, trying to shift closer to you again. “I-”

“No,” you say bluntly, lighting the cigarette and lifting it to your lips. “Get out of my apartment.”

The man hesitates, you can feel his eyes lingering on you and you’re becoming increasingly more irritated, shooting him a glare from the corner of your eye until he finally rises to his feet, buttoning his shirt as he makes his way over to the elevator. You slump back against the couch, sighing as you look up at the ceiling and take a long drag from your cigarette.

Dazai’s fault. As soon as he crossed your mind, your whole demeanor had changed and you try to convince yourself that it’s because you just don’t know what his issue is. You don’t know why he’s avoiding you, you don’t know what changed after you met with him at the bar; you thought things would be good between the two of you. You thought you’d be able to be with him now that nothing’s left in your way but evidently there still is something preventing the two of you from being together and it’s something that Dazai is not sharing with you.

Bastard, you think bitterly, about to pull out your phone to send Chuuya a very irritated and very foul message about Dazai but before you can, the elevator leading up to your floor bings and you look up to watch the man you’d invited over leave.

Except as the doors slide open, you realize that someone is already standing in there.

You sit up straight when you see Dazai standing in the elevator, black gaze trained right on the man leaving your apartment. His movements are almost robotic as he steps out of the elevator, his head twisting to follow the man as he steps in the elevator. He looks distinctly unnerved as Dazai’s soulless gaze tracking him until the elevator doors slide back shut.

It’s only then that Dazai only turns to look at you. His face is eerily void of emotion as he looks at you, gaze dipping down to your unbuttoned shirt and the light bruises blooming on your neck and collarbone. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him, wondering if he’s going to say something, but he only stands there staring at you.

“I thought you had a mission,” you finally say, leaning forward to put your cigarette out on the ashtray on the coffee table to button up your shirt half way so you’re not nearly undressed. When you finish, you pick up your glass of wine and take a sip. “You’re back early.”

“I finished early,” Dazai replies, monotonic.

He doesn’t budge from where he’s standing, limbs stiff and face blank. You glance down, noticing that he’s holding something in his right hand—a bag, takeout, maybe? Looks like it’s from that place in Hodogaya-ku that you like.

“What’s that?” you ask, nodding toward the bag. Dazai follows your gaze down to it, staring at it as if he doesn’t even know what it is. You frown, becoming a bit concerned as you rise to your feet. “Dazai, you good?”

Dazai’s gaze doesn’t leave the bag for a second; after what feels like an eternity, he finally looks back up at you but he doesn’t even seem to be looking at you, rather it feels like he’s looking through you like you’re not even there.

“I got food,” he says blankly.

Your eyes widen a bit, wondering if this is meant to be his apology for being an asshole the past few weeks. Dazai never apologizes—he disappears until he can act like nothing happened or he does something to make up for what he did, but he doesn’t ever acknowledge what he did. It’s frustrating, but you’ve gotten used to his quirks over the years. You’d been wondering why he seemed so melancholic before he left.

You nod at the spot next to you on the couch, accepting the apology and sitting back down. “I’ll put on a movie.”

Dazai looks at the spot like it’s been poisoned, expression finally twisting from the emptiness into one of disgust.

“What?” you demand, offended.

Dazai doesn’t even respond to you; you can only stare in disbelief as he turns on his heel and walks in the direction of the kitchen. You don’t budge for a second, staring in shock to where he disappeared to, but after a few moments, you force yourself up to your feet and follow after him.

Your mind races as you make your way down the short hall into the kitchen, standing in the door frame as you watch him put the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, pulling the different containers out of the bag and then opening the fridge. His movements are stiff and abrupt, almost robotic, and your irritation slips away when you see the expression on his face.

Closed-off. Withdrawn. Very reminiscent of the look on his face from that time he came back to your apartment after a mission that went wrong post-Dragon’s head Conflict, right before he had his first breakdown in front of you. He’d been trying to hold it all back, desperate to not lose control in front of you, but it was to no avail because it only made it worse.

“Dazai, what’s wrong?” you ask carefully as he stuffs another container into the fridge, so roughly that the plastic almost snaps. “Dazai-”

“Nothing,” Dazai responds sharply, voice cold and cutting but the way he takes in a sharp, shaky breath betrays him. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing.”

“Okay, that’s a lie,” you say flatly, sighing to yourself. “Can you just-”

“You’re the liar,” Dazai cuts you off, voice shrill and defensive in a way you’ve never heard from him before. Something crosses his face: a weird mixture of panic, anger and distress, like he knows he’s losing control of his emotions but he can’t stop himself. You don’t usually have such a hard time reading Dazai—it’s difficult, yes, but not as impossible as it currently is. It’s stressing you out because you don’t know what’s wrong and he’s clearly working himself up more over it. “You’re the liar. You’re the liar.”

Your eye twitches. Three breaths in and three breaths out. Now’s really not the time for you to lose your temper on him considering he’s on the brink of a mental breakdown for whatever reason. But you’re pissed, you don’t know why he’s calling you a liar and you don’t know what is going on, and you don’t want to deal with this especially after he just spent weeks ignoring and avoiding you.

“What did I lie about, Dazai?” you ask tightly, nails digging into your palms as you wait for a response. “Please, enlighten me.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tightening as he resumes tossing the food into the fridge.

“Dazai, stop,” you tell him, taking a step forward when he finally gets to the bottom of the takeout bag and slams the fridge shut so hard that it rattles. He grabs the empty bag and is about to storm over to the garbage can but before he can, you reach forward and grab his wrist, stopping him. “Will you fucking talk to me?”

“Let go,” Dazai hisses, trying to rip his arm from your hold but your fingers are too tight around his wrist, his bandages rough against the pads of your fingers—you don’t know why he’s still using those old scratchy ones when you stocked up with the softer ones but it only serves to irritate you more because why are you going out of your way to do nice things for him if he’s just going to toss it to the side? “Let go of me.”

“Tell me what your issue is,” you demand. “I’m done playing games with you, Dazai. Grow the fuck up and communicate.”

Dazai’s eye is wide and wild, looking far too much like a cornered animal as he bares his teeth at you and tries to yank out of your hold on him again. “My issue is that you’re a whore,” he spits out. “Let go of me. Now.”

You let go of him.

Instantly, the anger in Dazai’s face fizzles away. His eye is just as wide but his expression is lax, lips parted as if he’s only now just registering what he said. And you know he regrets it, you know that Dazai lashes out when he feels cornered; he becomes cruel and vicious, desperate in his attempts to protect himself when he feels vulnerable and since Dazai is Dazai, he knows how to hurt people. Knows exactly where the chinks in your armor are, drives the dagger in deep and twists it.

But even knowing this, it still hurts hearing that from him of all people.

“Okay.”

Your voice is quiet, you don’t even waste a second before turning on your heel and leaving the kitchen.

“Wait,” Dazai calls after you, voice wavering. “Wait, I didn’t…”

He can’t even finish the sentence because Dazai is Dazai and he doesn’t apologize and he doesn’t admit his wrongs. Doesn’t admit that he lost control and said something he didn’t mean to say. Would rather preserve his false visage of control than do anything like that.

“Where are you going?” Dazai asks and you can hear him trailing after you, words drawn long and shaky. “Hey, wait-”

You don’t know where you’re going. Leaving your apartment, you think, considering your feet are moving right to the elevator, but once you leave the building? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ll head over to Chuuya’s and crash at his apartment for the night, maybe you’ll go get shit-faced at a bar. You don’t really care, you just don’t want to be anywhere near Dazai right now. He’s put you through enough the past few weeks for you to stand here and take this shit from him.

“I don’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice cold and sharp. “Maybe I’ll go find that guy I kicked out and finish the job if I’m such a whore.”

Dazai inhales sharply from behind you. “What?” he breathes out. “No. No. I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?” you scoff, not even looking back at him. “Didn’t mean it? You can’t even bring yourself to say it, Dazai. Clearly you did.”

That’s not true, you know it’s only Dazai’s pride that prevents him from forcing those words out, but you know it makes him flinch and you know it makes him hesitate. You also know how to target chinks in armor.

“No,” Dazai tries again, more insistent this time. You can hear him speeding up behind you when he realizes you’re going for the elevator. “No, you don’t need to do that. I don’t-I don’t get you. I don’t get this. I don’t get any of this.”

He sounds confused, borderline distressed—you don’t even know what he’s talking about, what he’s so confused and distressed about. How could you? He never explains anything to you, never communicates.

“You don’t get what?” you demand, reaching out for the button of the elevator but Dazai lunges forward to grab your wrist before you can. You finally turn to look at him, catching the way his jaw is tight and the strange emotion swimming in his eye. “You don’t get what, Dazai? Spit it out.”

“Why are you still sleeping with other people?” he asks, voice hitching. “You have me. You don’t need anyone else.”

You can’t help yourself—you laugh in Dazai’s face.

“No way,” you say immediately.

You don’t mean it in the way it comes out. You know it comes out as if you’re saying you’d never sleep with him, but you’re more so saying no way because you can’t believe he has the audacity to say this to you after he just spent weeks avoiding and ignoring you.

Is this what his issue is? He doesn’t know how to cope with emotions so he evades and lashes out and just expects you to stick around waiting until he grows up? Fuck him. You deserve better than that, you waited long enough, you thought you were done with these games with him.

You don’t miss the way Dazai’s expression crumbles at your words, the way he stares at you, lips parted in disbelief. You don’t correct yourself, a part of you is happy that you can get your own knife in even if you do know you’ll regret it later.

“What do you mean no?” Dazai’s voice wobbles a bit before he takes half a step back. His fingers are weak around your wrist but he doesn’t let go, feels a lot like a child clinging to their parent’s shirt. “What-I-I’m here. You want it, you were just going to-”

Not that that’s even the issue anymore, but you’re definitely not in the mood now. Honestly, you just want to go to bed. Your head hurts and Dazai is stressing you out and pissing you off all at the same time, plus you have no interest in fucking him when he seems like he’s on the verge of a mental break anyway.

“No, I don’t. I changed my mind,” you say, frustrated. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”

“No,” Dazai replies, voice pitched and tinged with something too close to desperation. “No. You want me and I’m here, so you should-”

God, what the fuck is your life? You’re so frustrated that you want to pull your hair out and scream at him.

“Enough, Dazai.” You raise your voice at him. “Enough. I don’t want you. I want to go to bed.”

“No,” Dazai insists and your eyes widen when you feel his grip tighten on your wrist.

“Daz-” You start to say but you can’t even finish his name, cut off by his other hand finding its way to your hip, pressing you back against the closed doors of the elevator as he dips his head down to capture your lips with his own, swallowing your protest before you can even get it out.

You think absently that you were right earlier when you were letting your thoughts wander to what kissing Dazai would be like. He’s no longer unsure and hesitant with his touches, his lips slide against yours with the expertise of someone who’s spent a lifetime kissing. The hand on your hip slides up your body so that he can hold your jaw, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. And you shouldn’t be indulging this, you know that—Dazai pissed you off, he has some nerve calling you a whore and then whoring himself out to you—but his lips are intoxicating, you can hardly think straight with them pressed against yours.

He has your right hand pinned to the metal behind you, fingers curled tight around your wrist as he holds you in place. The way he kisses you is familiar, almost, and your brows furrow as you try to figure out why until feel his fingers brush through your hair, slow and lingering, dizzying, right before his tongue darts out to swipe across your bottom lip—a pattern of actions that you usually take to make your partners more malleable.

Did he teach himself this just by observing the way you act with people at events?

You don’t fall for your own tricks though, so instead, your free hand drops to his waist, fingers slipping through his belt loops as you press into him, pushing off the elevator to walk him backwards down the hall to his bedroom. He lets out a surprised noise in the back of his throat, letting you walk him back; his fingers fall from where they’d been around your wrist and you take the opportunity to hook yours around his other belt loop, keeping his body flush to yours until you have his back pressed against his bedroom door.

You notice, a bit absently, that Dazai is a lot more pliant now with you in control. His hands are loose at his sides as if he doesn’t know what to do with them—much like when you shared his first kiss with him—and he still kisses you back, lips moving slowly against yours, but it’s not with the intensity he had when you were pinned to the elevator door.

Strange.

You think kissing Dazai is a lot like a drug, one that you got your first hit of two years ago when you offered to be his first kiss but then never had another chance to get another taste of. You were bitter when he first started following in yours and Chuuya’s footsteps in taking people to bed to unwittingly ease information out of them—you’d find yourself watching him like a hawk as he drew people into secluded corners, as he pressed his lips against theirs and let their hands explore his body. You’d hardly be able to draw your eyes away once, not until he eventually led them out of the area to a bedroom.

You hated it. Truly. You like to tell yourself that you’re not jealous but you know it’s a blatant lie. As much as people would sell their souls to spend a night with you, they’d be just as desperate for one with Dazai because Dazai is Dazai. He’s untouchable. The Demon Prodigy. The Port Mafia’s Black Wraith. The youngest executive in history. He can be smooth and charming, yes, and he’s undoubtedly handsome. But more than that, he’s dark and unfathomable in a way that piques peoples’ interest in a sick and perverted fashion—they want to know what he’s like behind closed doors, they’re terrified of him but they want him, be it because of morbid curiosity or sheer lust.

And you hated that other people got to be with him in ways you couldn’t. Your only consolation seems to be that he had his eyes on you as much as you had yours on him, seeing how he’s pretty much perfectly mimicking the way you kiss and touch people, but you don’t know if that’s just because he was trying to learn through observing you—as he does with everyone—or if he hated watching you with other people just as much-

Oh.

Oh, you’re so stupid.

“You were jealous,” you realize, understanding what had triggered Dazai’s meltdown with the takeout food and insults toward you. Dazai stiffens against the door and you take the opportunity to trail your lips from his down to his jaw. “You were jealous over the guy I had over.”

“No-”

“You were.” You don’t even let him finish the protest, nipping at the spot beneath his ear gently and watching how he shudders. “How cute.”

“It’s not cute.” Dazai bristles. “You-you weren’t supposed-you’re not supposed to keep seeing people. I thought you were done with that. I thought we were-”

“We were what?” you ask coolly. “You avoided me for weeks after we talked, Dazai. Whatever we may or may not have been after we talked at the bar, it’s nothing when you start actively ignoring me for weeks after that.”

“But-”

You’re getting irritated again. “Dazai, you ignored me for weeks. I was pissed off and frustrated. And when I’m pissed off and frustrated, if I don’t have some way to relieve my stress, I do something stupid. Something stupid like putting a bullet in you the next time you stepped into my apartment after actively going out of your way to avoid me.”

“I was going out to get food,” Dazai says sullenly as if you were supposed to know that. “So we could watch a movie.”

“Last I recall, telepathy isn’t exactly part of my ability, Dazai,” you say dryly, calming yourself down by leaning in to brush your lips against his again.

A drug, you think again as the anger melts away when you feel his breath hitch against your lips. You reach behind him to open his bedroom door, guiding him in as you kiss him slowly. He’s fumbling again, unsure what to do with his fingers, clumsily moving his lips against yours until the back of his knees hits the bed, and he goes flopping down back on it.

You snort at the surprised look on his face, joining him on the bed as you straddle his hips. You hover over him for a second before leaning down to give him another chaste kiss, enjoying the way he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.

“Tell me why you were avoiding me,” you say quietly as you lift a hand to cup his cheek.

A foul move, you know. Dazai is always weak to gentle touches as much as he tries to pretend otherwise. You’ve noticed it when you watch movies with him and when he curls into bed with you on nights he can’t sleep. Just as you expect, he leans into your touch, lashes fluttering.

“Dazai,” you urge, “tell me why. What did I do?”

You didn’t do anything, you think bitterly, but you figure taking responsibility will be the easiest way to get him talking. You’ll fight about it later.

Dazai, to your surprise, turns his face away from you and your touch, a faraway look in his eye as he stares at the wall.

“You didn’t do anything,” he says. “I just didn’t-”

He cuts himself as if he can’t even bring himself to say it, and you know you have to do something because he seems to be withdrawing even more into his own head, eyes growing more distant with each passing second. You turn his head so that he’s facing you again and you lean down to press your lips briefly against his.

“You didn’t what?” you ask him.

Dazai still looks like he doesn’t want to answer, conflict spreading across his face as he stares up at you before he sighs and averts his gaze. “I don’t understand any of this. I didn’t want to disappoint,” he says so quietly that you barely hear him.

Your brows furrow.

“Disappoint?” you question, a bit baffled. Dazai has a complex about failure. You know that too, have known it since you were sixteen. He can’t handle it, nothing makes him spiral quite like the idea of failure—you and he are quite similar in that regard—but you don’t understand what he means in this context. “Disappoint with what?”

Dazai doesn’t answer, doesn’t meet your eyes either, and your mind races to figure out what he might be referring to. You recall how he became hesitant and unsure when you finally took control, fingers twitching at his sides, body pliant as you moved him around, almost like a doll for you to maneuver as you pleased.

“Disappoint with this?” you finally realize, watching as he grimaces, confirming your suspicions. Your chest drops. “You avoided me because… you didn’t want to have sex?”

That makes you feel a bit sick to your stomach because what does he think of you if he went to this length to avoid you just because… Dazai’s entire body jolts at your words as if realizing how they came across.

“No,” he pushes out instantly. His hands dart out to cling to your shirt as if he’s worried you’re going to leave. “No, no. I want to. I do. Not just this… just in general. Everything. Me… This is just one part of it… the easiest to make mistakes with. I don’t like making mistakes.”

It’s only mildly reassuring.

“Dazai…” You start to say, pulling away, but his hands dart up to grab your waist so he can hold you in place on top of him. You think maybe the two of you need to talk. Again. “I just, I don’t understand.”

“I want this,” he repeats again, hands sliding down from your waist to curl his fingers around the hem of your shirt. He sees that you’re not convinced by his words so he pushes out a “Please” that nearly stops you in your tracks because you don’t think Dazai Osamu has ever begged for anything in his life.

You lean down to press your lips against his again. You set the pace this time, lifting your hand to cup his cheek—you pull the same move that he tried with you, nails gently scraping his scalp as you brush your fingers through his hair. Dazai melts into it in a way that you didn’t, lashes fluttering and lips parting instinctively, letting you deepen the kiss. Dazai’s breath catches as you push your tongue into his mouth, shivering when you trace the back of his teeth.

Too pliant. All of the confidence he had earlier when he had you pinned to the elevator is gone. His breath wavers against your lips, and his fingers tremble as he grips at the hem of your button-up. Not a firm grip like you’d have anticipated, with his fingers digging into the plush skin of your hips as he grinds you down on his cock; instead, his fingers are clinging to the fabric as if he’s too overwhelmed to even think of grabbing your body.

“Tell me what you like,” you say quietly, fingers still absently carding through his dark locks as you kiss down his neck. Your other hand slips beneath his dress shirt, smoothing out over the bandages wrapped around his torso. “I want to know, wanna make you feel good.”

Dazai’s lips part to respond to you, but the only thing that escapes them is a pitched gasp—high and cracking in desperation, grip on your shirt so tight that you think he might rip it. He’s already hard, can feel his cock straining against his black pants, pressed against your thigh.

“I don’t-” Dazai’s voice is ragged; he sounds overwhelmed, almost confused. “I don’t know.”

“Hm?” you prod, nipping his neck and relishing in the way his whole body shudders at the feeling. “C’mon, Dazai, you’ve done this before. Tell me what you like.”

His gasp is choked when your hand tightens on his slim waist, lashes fluttering as his eyes roll back. More pliant and more sensitive, you note curiously, kissing back up his neck to tug at his earlobe with your teeth, a shiver running down your spine at the broken moan Dazai lets out into your ear. He jolts, eyes widening and face flushing—he looks as if he’s startled himself by the noise that escaped his lips, and you start to become a bit suspicious.

“I don’t know,” he tells you, sounding confused and frustrated. “I don’t know. It’s never felt like this before. How are you doing that?”

You pause.

You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, pulling your face back from his ear to look at him carefully because why is he acting like he’s never done this before? You know he’s slept around a lot. He picked it up over half a year ago when he got tired of hearing you and Chuuya brag about how easy it is to get things out of people like this. Made a point of making sure you knew about it when you had your boyfriend.

It’s never felt like this before.

Your chest swirls, and you feel a bit disconcerted as his words finally process. It’s never felt like what? Dazai doesn’t know why you’ve stopped, you can feel him tugging at your shirt, hazy eyes trying to focus on you. You wonder if the gears in his head are turning, realizing something might be wrong but unable to pinpoint what.

You kiss him to distract him, deeper this time. You press his head back against the soft pillow, one hand sliding to cradle the back of it as you try to break all of the quick-moving cogs in his brain so you can think in peace, cursing the fact that his mind has always been quicker and sharper than yours.

Dazai is Dazai. He’s smooth, charming—when he wants to, he could seduce anyone into his bed. You’ve watched him do it at events, sidling up close and leaning in to speak to people, dark eye lidded and voice low, a slow smirk curling at his lip as he brushes his finger lightly against the target’s lower back before guiding them out of the room. Christ, he’s nearly flustered you on more than one account. You want to say that he’s not the same kid who was nervous to kiss you two years ago, but he clearly is with how he’s reacting to your kisses and touches right now. But he shouldn’t be—maybe it’s because it’s you he’s with, maybe he’s just nervous because it’s you and not some random person he’s seducing for information.

But that doesn't explain the comment. Doesn’t explain it’s never felt like this before.

“Never felt like what?” you ask as you kiss the corner of his lips and down his jaw again, all the way to the line of bandages peeking out from his dress shirt. You undo the first few buttons, watching the way his chest rapidly rises and falls under your touch as you smooth your hands over his chest. “Hm?”

“I-I don’t know,” Dazai says, voice cracking and another breathy sound spilling from his lips as you kiss the underside of his jaw. “It’s just-it’s usually just-it’s not this.”

That doesn’t help you at all, you think. You’re about to press, but your lips on his skin have evidently made Dazai’s lips looser than they typically are because you don’t even have to voice a clarifying question to get him talking again.

“The way you’re touching me. Kissing me. It’s not like this, doesn’t feel so good,” he continues and you can hear the whine building in the back of his throat as he speaks. “It’s just sex.”

You slide his button-up off of his shoulders, revealing his bandaged body to you. You don’t make any move to remove them, but now you stare down at him, a bit perplexed. “This is sex,” you say, voice a bit stunted because you didn’t expect him to say that.

“No,” Dazai says, seemingly equally perplexed by your words, drawn out of the haze of pleasure into a more confused state. “Sex is sex. It’s penetrative.”

“... Sex isn’t just penetrative, Dazai,” you say, baffled. “This is sex. It’s foreplay.”

Dazai stares at you like he doesn’t even know what that word means.

Oh, you realize, heart sinking as you realize why Dazai is so thrown off by all of this. How has he had sex without foreplay? Sex without foreplay is… it’s boring, not enjoyable at all. More animalistic than anything, borderline painful half of the time. Is that what he’s been doing with all of the people he seduces for information? The thought is a bit jarring, but the more you think about it, the more you think it might make sense.

Dazai is prodigious when he’s given something that he can study and mimic; can execute flawless imitations of the behaviors he’s trying to learn. He learned the art of leadership from observing Mori. The art of war from observing the Colonel’s operations before his death. Adaptability from observing Kouyou during missions. Business from observing Ace’s meetings and transactions. Seduction from observing you interacting with people during events. Dazai is as terrifying as he is because he’s a perfect amalgamation of the entire upper echelon’s best skill sets. He’s adopted Mori’s mannerisms, the Colonel's strategic capability, Kouyou’s ability to adapt to any situation, Ace’s shrewdness with yen, and your charisma.

If there’s something he can observe, he can mirror it to near perfection.

So, is it really that surprising to you that the front he puts up during events is just an imitation of how you act with people? That it doesn’t translate behind closed doors? That he had nothing to study and nothing to mimic once seduction progressed to the bedroom, so he let whoever he was with take the lead to try to learn from them in the moment?

That maybe someone would use his ignorance on the subject against him?

Dazai is Dazai, you think, for the fifth time tonight. He doesn’t watch porn, he doesn’t ask people for help, and this isn’t something Mori would have ever taught him—you know that better than anyone. Mori sheltered Dazai from everything, even tried to keep you away from him; he didn’t want anything or anyone to taint the control he had over his precious Demon Prodigy. While you and Chuuya have had the chance to live, experiencing life and the outside world, Dazai’s been stuck under the watchful eye of the boss, hardly ever out of arm’s reach, caged like a circus animal to be put on display whenever Mori sees fit.

Of course, Dazai would only see it as another way to get the job done, disregarding his own comfort and pleasure—because when does Dazai Osamu ever care for his own comfort and pleasure? He lived in a fucking shipping container until you dragged him out of it. It’s not a thought that casually crosses his mind, and he wouldn’t think twice once he thinks he has an idea of what’s going on. He doesn’t see things the way you do, was never given the opportunity to understand, taught by Mori to see things as tools and means to an end, even himself.

Dazai can see your mind racing. You know he’s going to put together that something is wrong soon if you don’t move on from this. But it’s hard—it’s a bit fucking jarring to realize that Dazai’s so overwhelmed by your touch because every other time he’s had sex, he’s probably been uncomfortable or even in pain.

You lean down to kiss him again, halting his thoughts. You place two chaste kisses on his lips, sucking his bottom lip gently before kissing his cheek down to his jaw.

“What all have you done with people?” you ask him, sitting back on his thighs, lacing your fingers with his as you look down at him.

Instantly, his face is on fire. “What does it matter?” he demands, but you can feel his fingers tightening around yours.

You roll your eyes at his obstinateness. “Humor me,” you say dryly. “Are you usually the one leading, or is your partner? Are you the one penetrating or-”

Dazai’s grip on your hands becomes almost painful, so you quiet down, giving him an amused look. Maybe it's an awkward subject, but you want to have a vague idea of what he’s been doing before you do anything.

“... partner is,” he finally tells you, hardly looking you in the eye. It’s kind of cute. “... and only when it’s a woman, but she still takes the lead.”

“Do you want to take the lead tonight?” you ask him, running your thumb over his knuckles to try to get him to loosen his grip.

He does, but only barely.

“Not tonight,” he says after a few moments.

“Not tonight,” you agree. “Did you prefer topping or bottoming?”

Dazai thinks for a moment and then says, “Topping. Bottoming was…”

You force yourself not to wince, suspicions confirmed by the way he trails off.

You hum, sliding your hands up and down his bandaged sides soothingly, enjoying the way he slowly relaxes beneath your touch. “That can feel good, too,” you tell him. “I can show you that one day if you’d like.”

Dazai’s brows furrow, pointedly looking down at your clothed lower half as if trying to see through them. Your lips quirk up as he says, “But you don’t have a-”

“There are ways to work around that,” you snort, hands finally resting at his hips, drawing circles over his protruding hip bones.

“… Not tonight,” he finally repeats.

“Not tonight,” you agree again.

You lift your hands back to his cheeks, holding his face between them as you kiss him again. You kiss him deeper this time, rolling your hips against his to make his breath hitch. You drag the tip of your tongue against the roof of his mouth—he tastes like cigarettes and faintly of whiskey. Tastes familiar. Like home.

You think you could kiss Dazai forever and never find yourself sick of it. Kissing him is like a drug, you think again. Kissing him gives you butterflies in a way that you’ve only ever experienced with him when you were sixteen, and giving him his first kiss.

Kissing him is like coming home after being away for years.

He kisses you back clumsily, all of the finesse he had earlier in the night long gone. His teeth nearly knock against yours, it’s a bit too wet and a bit too messy, but you think it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. You smile against his lips before pulling away to kiss the corner of his lips, nipping his skin when he lets out a shaky breath against your ear.

Your hands slide down his body to the waistband of his pants, fingers slipping beneath before you look up at him questioningly. “Can I?” you ask him, tilting your head to the side.

“How else are we going to do this?” Dazai counters petulantly.

Brat, you think to yourself, a bit fondly. Thoughts race through your mind but you push them away—maybe another night. You don’t respond to him, raising your eyebrows and waiting for a verbal response.

His cheeks dust pink as he says, “Yes.”

You work quickly to unbutton his pants, patting his thigh so he lifts his hips. You trail kisses down his bandaged chest as you slide off his pants. He’s very responsive to your touch, each kiss makes his breath stutter, you can feel it in the way his chest rises and falls and it only makes you want to watch him fall apart more.

“Are the bandages okay?” Dazai asks after a few moments when you kiss down to his navel. You look up at him, brows furrowed, catching the hesitant expression on his face, dark eye trained on you. “Do you want them off?”

“Do you want them off?” you throw back at him, squinting up at him.

Dazai stares at you for a moment before he shakes his head, a strange expression on his face—you wonder if he was worried you’d ask him to take them off, wonder if his other partners made comments about it, pushed him to remove them.

You wonder if it’s part of the reason why he avoided you for so long: he wasn’t ready for you to see him without them but thought you would ask him to take them off.

You leave it at that though, returning to kissing down to his hip bone, nipping the skin there and watching how his body jerks a bit in surprise. You let out a puff of laughter against his skin before you ease his briefs off, freeing his cock from where it was straining against the cloth—the soft ones you’d bought him when you’d found his rough, tattered ones in your washing machine a few months after he first moved into your apartment.

You don’t usually find cocks pretty—they all mostly look the same—but Dazai’s is. Long, not too thick, his tip is flushed a pretty pink color and a vein runs along the underside. He’s leaky too, precum drips down from his tip, right along that vein and you want to taste him, so you do.

You lean in to press your lips against his length, sucking gently on the vein before kissing up to his tip. A bit too salty for your taste, probably because of his shitty diet, but you don’t mind because the pitched moan that tumbles from his lips makes up for the taste entirely. You peek up, breath catching at the sight of his head tossed back against the pillow, swollen lips parted in a pretty moan and long lashes fluttering. He looks stunning, you wish you could take a picture—maybe another night.

You think all of his previous partners have severely missed out.

“Ah,” he gasps. “Shit, shit-”

Even with just your lips wrapped around his tip, you can feel Dazai’s cock twitching in your mouth—you wonder if he’s already on the edge. You can see the way his abdomen is spasming beneath the bandages, how his fingers are curling around the soft sheets beneath him. You don’t want him to finish yet, you want him inside you when he cums, so you only spare a few chaste kisses trailing up and down his length before sitting up straight again.

Immediately, he tosses you an accusing look. Bottom lip pushed out, cheeks flushed the same pretty pink as his tip. “Why-”

You silence him by pressing your lips against his. This kiss is lewder than your last, you push the bit of precum you’d gathered on your tongue into his mouth as you unbutton your own slacks. He makes a noise into your mouth but you don’t pull away until you feel him swallow. You smile against his lips before you pull back to slip off your own pants, watching his face twist.

“Yuck,” he says, wrinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue. “Tastes bad.”

“Have been telling you to start eating more fruits and vegetables,” you tell him, flicking his thigh as you shimmy out of your slacks and toss them to the side. “You don’t listen.”

The smile he tosses up at you is familiar, a welcome change from the distress and confusion that’s been plaguing him most of the night. “You’ve been thinking about what my cum tastes like for that long? Pervert.”

“More like I’ve been thinking about how high your cholesterol must be with how much canned crab and buttered bread you eat,” you say dryly, returning to where you’d been straddling his waist.

You lift your hands up, beckoning him to take them. He does, reaching up to lace his fingers with yours. A smile curves at your lips as you lean over him, pinning his hands to the mattress on either side of his head as you kiss him again.

Your chest feels light in a way that it hardly ever does when you’re fucking someone, fluttering in the same way it was when you first kissed him two years ago. Usually when you’re sleeping with someone, it’s all about keeping up appearances. Flirty, sensual, seductive, you’re always more focused on the task at hand than you are enjoying yourself, this is… different. You mean, it always feels good—you know how to make sure it feels good for you while getting the job done—but this…

Feels like home, you think again. Being with Dazai feels like home and it scares you a bit because he’s so flighty and unpredictable but you push away the fear to kiss him harder. You have him now, that’s what matters.

“I like canned crab and buttered bread.” Dazai pouts as he mumbles against your lips.

“Shut up,” you tell him.

You feel him smile and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say so you cut him off by reaching down to position his cock at your entrance. Instantly, he chokes over a moan and your lashes flutter, feeling him slide between your folds.

Shit, you hadn’t even realized how wet you were, too caught up in trying to make sure Dazai was feeling good, but now with the feeling of the tip of his cock pressed against your clit and his length firm against your core, your abdomen feels all hot and tight, head fuzzy.

You keep your forehead pressed to his, noses nudging, sharing the same sliver of air as you roll your hips, letting out a soft moan against his lips when his tip presses against your hole. Each breath he lets out hitches into a soft whine at the end, a glassy look to his eye. You don’t sink down on him yet, feeling how his grip on your hands tightens, how his breath becomes shuddered and his gaze becomes lidded.

You wonder maybe if he can cum just from the feeling of his tip pushing inside you—maybe another night.

“Please,” he breathes out for the second time tonight and who are you to deny him?

You don’t kiss him as you sink down on his cock, eyes fluttering shut when you feel how his cock stretches your walls—you want to hear him, hear the way he gasps, the way his breath catches, you want to hear his moans and whimpers. He tries to chase your lips but you keep them just out of reach until he gives up, fingers tightening around yours and hips jerking up.

“‘s so tight,” Dazai gasps as you rock your hips slowly against his. “Feels s’good.”

“Yeah?” you press, breathless.

You distract yourself from the rapidly spreading heat by kissing his neck, letting go of one of his hands to bring it to his cheek, watching as he instinctively leans into your touch, hardly able to hold his eye open. He presses a sloppy kiss to your palm, hand coming up to hold yours to his face.

“Yeah,” he says shakily, lashes drooping and lips parting in another silent moan. “Feels…”

“Feels what?” you ask him, kissing the other side of his neck before trailing wet kisses up to his opposite cheek, feeling him shudder as you tug his earlobe.

“Right,” Dazai tells you, dark eye glazed over as he looks at you, lips wet and swollen and so entirely kissable that you can’t help yourself from leaning down to steal another from him. “Feels right.”

You wonder if Dazai feels just as at home with you as you do with him and that thought is enough to make you rock your hips.

The noise that Dazai lets out is obscene and pornographic, pitched and breathy. You can hardly appreciate the lewd expression on his face—his hair matted to his forehead, eyes half-rolled back and lips parted in a pretty ‘o’—because the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls nearly has you tumbling over the edge.

Shit, you think to yourself, desperately trying to rein in the rapidly building pleasure. Shit, what the fuck?

You never cum this quickly—usually you have to slip your hand between the sweat slicked bodies of you and your partner to rub circles around your clit so you can bring yourself over the edge at the same time as him. You don’t think you’ve ever come from penetration alone—but the stretch of Dazai’s cock, the feeling of his tip bullying deep into your cunt, the sound of skin on skin and his pretty moans, it all goes right to your head and to your pussy, the telltale signs of your thighs tensing and your abdomen tightening warning you that you’re close already.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, voice shaky. “You’re so…”

You don’t even know what you're trying to say, mind becoming increasingly more empty of thought as you rock your hips again, setting a steady pace. Dazai chokes over air beneath you, the hand still intertwined with yours squeezing hard while the other one drops from the hand you have on his face to claw the bed sheets.

You feel his cock twitch inside you, the way his moans are becoming louder and lewder, the way his head falls to the side, face half pressed into the pillow, eyes knocked back, body arched. Dazai’s already so gone that you think any second he’ll cum deep inside of you and that thought alone makes your body shudder.

You grab the hand clawing at the bed sheets, guiding it between your bodies as you bounce on his cock. You can feel his hazy gaze trying to figure out what you’re doing but you’re more focused on guiding his finger to rub circles around your clit.

As soon as the pressure is placed on the sensitive nub, your hips are stuttering and a gasp is tearing from your lips. Dazai’s choking when he feels your walls spasm around him, hips thrusting up erratically to meet each of your rocks, but he’s just barely coherent enough to keep his finger rubbing circles on your clit.

Your breath becomes heavy and shaky, the pace of your hips quickening, fire spreads through you so rapidly that it’s impossible to control.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp when you feel yourself tipping over the edge, eyes trying to focus on Dazai’s face and the sight you’re met with is enough to push you over the edge.

Dazai’s jaw is slack, drool pooling at the corner of his lips, the white of his eye just barely visible, cheeks flushed a deep red. He's babbling out incoherent words: you can just barely make out your name, s’good, too tight, too much, and I’m gonna-

And then you’re choking over your own moan when you feel Dazai finish inside of you, cum warm and heavy as he fucks it deep in your cunt. His lithe body trembles beneath you, tense and arched, holding your hand so tight that you think he might break it, and your vision goes white as you cum on his cock, mind blank when the taut cord snaps within you, nails digging into Dazai’s skin.

Dazai’s cock is still twitching inside of you when you slump onto his chest, tremors still spreading through his body. You tilt your head up to ghost your lips against his jaw before sliding off of him, laying on the bed next to him. You feel empty without him inside you but you distract yourself by lifting your hand to his cheek again, tilting it to the side and forcing him to look at you.

More emotion swims in Dazai’s eye than you’ve seen him express in the entire two years you’ve known him, he looks at you so reverently that you can almost imagine three words spilling from his lips, breathy and adoring. You know he won’t say them, but it’s a nice thought, you think. You lean in to ghost your lips against his briefly, the tips of your fingers carding through his dark curls. You want to say something but you don’t know what.

Well. You do know what but you can’t say it.

“You wanted me soooooo bad,” Dazai finally says, a bit more clarity returning to his eye as his lips curl up. “I knew it, you wanted me so bad.”

“You’re so annoying,” you tell him but your voice is fond and you can’t help yourself from shifting forward to press your lips against his. You feel him smile against your lips and that warm, fluttery feeling returns.

Home.

“You love it,” Dazai sings, nipping your cheek.

A bit longingly, you think, I do.

Instead, you roll on top of him to straddle his hips, pressing your lips against his again.

“You wish.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu smut #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

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httpiastri · 3 months

Text

nsfw alphabet – ln4

author's note: this pretty much wrote itself, oh my god. hope you enjoy (and hoping for some good results this weekend!!)

nsfw content below !! minors dni !!!

a – aftercare (what he is like after sex)

after sex, lando craves having you near him. he needs his skin on yours, he needs to kiss you, he needs to hold you. it doesn't matter if he's just fucked you senseless, he still can't live on if he doesn't feel your body pressed up against him.

lando gets soft and mushy after sex, and especially if he's been in a certain type of mood; he just needs to make sure you're alright and that you understand that even if he got a little too into it, he's still your cute and sweet boyfriend. he thanks you for being there, he asks you if you're feeling good, and makes sure he wasn't too rough with you.

another thing about lando after sex is that he loves cockwarming. the first time you tried it was probably just because he was lazy, too tired to pull out, but after then it's so much more. again, it's that craving for your touch and what better way than to completely drown in you all night? he doesn't care if you're both sweaty or sticky or if your combined juices make a mess of the sheets. that's a problem for another day.

b – body part (his favorite body part of his and also his partner's body)

lando likes a lot of his own body parts for different reasons. his tongue because of the way he knows it makes you feel and because he's confident in his skills with it. he likes his hands, the size of them and the way they never fail to make your back arch off the bed (and because of how they look wrapped around your wrists, your legs, your waist, your neck...). he knows his neck makes you go crazy, and he'll think about you leaving a trail of lovebites down it whenever he does his neck exercises at the gym. but honestly, i think he just really likes all of his muscles, partly because of how defined they are and how good they look, but also a lot of it is because of how strong he is; he loves being able to hold your body down in bed, or hold you up in the shower, or throw you over his shoulder and toss you onto the bed.

i genuinely can't figure out if i think he's an ass guy or a boobs guy – i'm pretty sure he's both, and he's obsessed. it doesn't matter if you're petite or curvy or somewhere in between, he's pretty much gawking at you 24/7. if you're turned towards him, he's happy to have a view of your chest. if you've got your back turned against him, his eyes won't be leaving your gorgeous butt. his hands will be on them all the time, doesn't matter if you're out in public or home in your apartment. he needs to feel you, and nothing satisfies his needs as much as having his favorite body parts of his favorite person in his hands.

c – cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

oh he's good with anything. coming inside you, in your mouth, over your chest, doesn't matter. he finds it all so insanely hot. seeing you lick it up? he's dead. seeing you lick your own cum from his fingers after he's fingered you? even more dead.

d – dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

lando loves a good photograph – and that definitely goes for pictures of you. you bet he's got a whole private folder on his phone of just pictures of you on top of his covers, hickeys adorning your skin... ass or breasts on full display... tied up to the bed frame or with one of his hands wrapped around your neck... of course, the two of you have had a serious conversation about it to make sure it's consensual, and he would never ever even think of showing anyone else, he's far too possessive for that. they're purely for his own enjoyment.

the only thing that makes him even more aroused than pictures of you is videos... he's a bit shy to bring it up but he would love to make some kind of softer sex tape one day. but for now, he'll settle for the short clips he has of himself slowly thrusting into you or you riding him.

e – experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)

lando is experienced, no doubt. mostly with casual hookups, though, which i think influences his style. he definitely knows what he's doing, he knows every little secret about your body and what every touch will make you feel. he also surprises you with a new trick every once in a while that just blows your mind because how can he still impress you even after all this time? that's just lando.

f – favorite position (this goes without saying)

lando doesn't settle for just one position, he wants you every way all the time. he loves to switch positions mid-way through just to get another angle and another feel of you. plus, the bonus of getting to see different parts of you is great. doggy just to have his hands on your ass, cowgirl to get to see your breasts bounce... he doesn't really have a set favorite, anything that makes you both feel good is perfect for him.

g – goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous? etc.)

oh he can definitely be goofy with it. lando laughs at pretty much everything and that doesn't just go away in the bedroom. it's not overly frequent, like he doesn't just crack jokes out of nowhere, but he's a smiley dude. he's also very teenage boy-ish, which leads to a lot of laughter and funny situations.

h – hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i don't think he cares too much, to be fair. he's tried shaving a couple of times just to see how it looks, but he's much too lazy to keep up with it. as long as you don't mind a lot, he will just let it grow however it wants.

i – intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he's intimate, sure, but not overly romantic i think. there are moments or certain occasions where he definitely is, though; he enjoys getting all romantic and fluffy for you every once in a while. but for him, most of the romance comes after it. the aftercare is where he'll show just how sweet and domestic he can be.

j – jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he used to love a good handjob, especially during a race weekend when he didn't have access to any girls and just needed to blow off some steam. but ever since he started getting with you, it's just not the same anymore... he misses your touch, the feeling of sinking into you, getting to hear your whiny breaths as he fucks you. he doesn't properly get off by himself unless he's watching a video of you or looking at a particularly suggestive picture you've sent him.

k – kink (one or more of his kinks)

i think lando definitely has a bulge kink. seeing your stomach move around when he thrusts into you makes him so weak. also, i'm sorry but he has a bit of a pregnancy kink, too. especially after spending days with baby relatives or just seeing kids around. it doesn't come out very often, but don't be surprised when he gets all "you'd look so good with my baby inside you" and "let's make that belly round and beautiful, hm?"...

l – location (favorite places to do the do)

i feel like the location doesn't matter a lot to him. bedroom, kitchen, living room, bathroom, the windowsill that any of his neighbors could look through any day... having someone watch you two doesn't matter to him; he just feels like a generous boy for giving them a treat.

he isn't shy to get it on in public, either. obviously, behind closed doors is a must, but if he gets particularly horny at a friend's party? then the bathroom seems like a good place to spend some time. he isn't shy to play a little with you in public either, his hand on your thigh underneath the table at the club slowly but surely inching up... and giving you a few teasing strokes until you're begging for him to just take you home...

one of his weaknesses is swimming pool sex. as long as there's no one else in the pool, it doesn't matter if there are friends nearby (if it's a pool party, etc.); he just loves the feeling of the water around you and how easy it is to slip into you.

don't know where else to put this than here, but i think it's very important to add that lando does not care at all who else is near when you're around and he's in a mood. pda is his middle name, and his hands will be on you at all times. holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, a hand on your ass...

if you're at a party, lando will be upset if you choose a seat that isn't his lap. having you straddle his thighs or sitting sideways in his lap is his biggest wish, and he feels like the world's luckiest man whenever you give him the pleasure of doing it. he also loves it because it means he can make sure you're not off talking to some creepy dude, and that everyone sees who you belong to. lando is very possessive and this is the perfect way to keep his possessiveness in check.

m – motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

honestly, it's not hard at all to rile lando up. he can and wants to get with you at all times. but drunk lando = extra horny lando. never is lando as frisky as when he's downed a few drinks (or half a champagne bottle on the podium). his hands will be on you constantly.

whenever you wear anything that shows off your cleavage, he's done. his brain will short circuit.

as i've covered before, and will cover again, lando is possessive, but also quite easily jealous. seeing you with some other dude makes him really easily riled up. it's not that he likes it – he hates the thought of you actually being with another man – but just a little teasing never hurt anyone. he's too confident in himself and he knows that you love him and only him, that even when he sees you flirt with someone else, it doesn't upset him because he understands that it's all just a game.

n – no (something he wouldn't do, turn-offs)

lando doesn't like to share you. he thinks it's cool that you flirt with other men, but if you were to ever cross the line and actually do something with another man, he would be so mad (and not in a good way-). he could possibly be up for a threesome if you really want to, but he needs to be there and he will be watching over the other guy with so much suspicion. he would want to make sure that you're enjoying everything he's doing much more than the other dude, and to be fair it would pretty much eventually turn out to be just regular sex between the two of you with the other man just not being involved.

o – oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves both of them. he's a messy giver, hastily licks and just eating you out like a starved man. he loves the taste of you – he swears it's one of his favorite things in the world – and he will just never get sick of it. he can go over and over, a million rounds, until he has you completely ruined underneath him; legs trembling, eyes rolled back, brain empty of thoughts.

your blow jobs, though, are like god's gift to him. he would never force you to give him them, but oh does he think about them about 24/7. unless you're completely oblivious, you'll understand quite quickly how much he enjoys them. and why would you not want to please him and make him as happy as he wants? he gets completely lost in the feeling, his hands tangling in your hair and fingers pulling on it, guiding you up and down... and he just can't hold back from thrusting ever so slightly into it. you're just too good – and you bet he'll praise you for it.

p – pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

i think this can vary a bit, actually. fast and rough sometimes, slow but deep and hard other times. it's not often that he's on the sensual side, though it does happen every once in a while. but you bet he's going to pour all of his energy into it and make it real hot and needy, no matter the pace.

q – quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he definitely likes a good old quickie! you've both gotten quite used to them, especially during race weekends when you have a tight schedule. if you're really really tight on time, a quick blowjob does the job, too.

r – risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)

definitely. he loves trying new things to spice things up, and he's not shy to experiment and take a risk that maybe not everyone else would. he would adore having a partner who's as open to experimenting as he is, it would just make him feel so free and non-judged. if you get to see lando in his fully comfortable state, you'll definitely find him suggesting all kinds of things.

s – stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

lando is obsessed with you, so nothing can tire him out. he can last forever (or, at least so he thinks).

t – toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

as we've talked about already, lando is up for anything. bring up any kind of toys and he's sold. he's also really curious about how you please yourself when he's away, so you bet he will love watching you get off without him helping you out.

u – unfair (how much he likes to tease)

lando is definitely a big tease. pressing pecks all over your body except for where you really need and want him, fingers stroking up and down your sides a little too lightly for your taste; leaning back when you lean in to kiss him, pressing a finger to your lips with a silly grin on his lips; pulling out of you just as you're about to reach your climax, tilting his head and letting out a little "oh? you wanted to come? sorry, baby. you'll have to beg for it"....

this also happens, maybe even more, when you're in public. he doesn't care who's around; he knows you get a little extra tense and that you're easier to work up when you don't want anyone to know what lando is doing to you. his specialty is kneeling down and pretending to tie your shoelace or brush away some dirt from your heels, and when no one is looking, he makes sure to press a short trail of kisses right above your knee and up the inside of your thigh. it makes you react with the same wide eyes and speechlessness every time, and he loves it. almost as much as he loves seeing your friends ask you what's wrong.

v – volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)

lando is not scared of being loud, he's very very vocal during sex. he loves to moan, seeing it as a way to let you know how good he thinks you feel. he's the type to moan and groan even when he's the one doing the work; just watching your juices drip out of you brings a warm sensation to his chest because he's the one who did that. you react like that to him and only him.

he also loves to talk you through it. a lot of guiding, even though you already know what to do, and a lot of praise.

w – wild card (a random headcanon)

one thing lando thinks is the maybe hottest thing you can do is pull on his chains when he's wearing them... just yanking him towards you so that you can press your lips to his, it has him dead in seconds.

he also has a thing for seeing you wear necklaces or chains (esp his chains) because it reminds him of this other type of necklace that he loves seeing around your throat much more...

x – x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

he's a big boy for sure. thickness is his strongest suit but he's got some good length too.

y – yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

as i've said before, lando is obsessed with you, so he could have sex with you anytime anywhere. there's not going to be a time where he doesn't want to have sex with you.

z – zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterward)

i think it depends. if you've been at it for a while and he's very energetically drained, he'll be quick to fall asleep. but in some other cases, it takes him a long while to mentally calm down from his high and actually relax his mind. he'll be all pumped up.

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