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#i had this thought and immediately shot out of bed to post this
euaphoru · 6 months
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇, 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇!
★ — contents ! explicit sexual content: jjk men as camboys featuring you! breeding link, toys, sweet!gojo, switch!geto, mean!toji, husband!kento? mentioned, pussy slapping, smacking, smut overall!
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GOJO SATORU
camboy!gojo who is the type of person to be very welcoming and greeting when he invites you over to his place to join him, he had already set everything up and led you to where he had the monitor set.
camboy!gojo who immediately gets into his character and proudly shows you off, bent over his lap while squeezing his forearm while his other his spreading your lips and showing the viewers.
camboy!gojo who asks the chat if he should let you cum, after overstimulating you the entire time with his fingers and the brand new toys he used in you. The comments are being flooded with everyone saying to keep edging you but gojo could tell you weren’t able to keep up.
camboy!gojo who whispered praises in your ear, reassuring you to give him one more, “you’re doing such a good job for me,” and “looking so pretty with your makeup all ruined”, feeling your hand clawing at his arm, realizing your about to cum, “that’s it…cum all over my fingers, baby.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GETO SUGURU
camboy!geto who was actually pretty nervous about meeting up with you at your apartment until he got inside and saw how cozy it was, so many plants and shelf’s filled with books—full of smut of course, and your sage burning on an ashtray. He loved the decor but not as much as when he entered your room full of your toys, like some sort of collection you had for fun?
camboy!geto who started the business as a guy with a mask in most of his posts, continuing on from that then later going on in his career, taking of his mask later in the year. This was your first time seeing him in person and god did he look so fineee. You tried to compose yourself and led him to the bed that was placed infront of the monitor. He took the lead by kissing at your temple and gripping your ass, giving it a light snack.
camboy!geto who had you both strip naked and had you on top of him, making him lean against the headboard while he motioned you with your hips to ride him, when did he get so confident? You thought, speaking too soon like you always do, you hear him let out whimpers while the chat gets flooded with “awhhh’s” and “let us hear him moreee!”
camboy!geto who tries to bite his lip to hold himself back from making any other noises— making you slap him, “don’t be shy, let them hear hear you..” you gesture, you lift your hips up and down at his hard-on, making him groan at the feeling at your warm walls squeezing him. “f-feels too good! ‘need more, pleaseee, princess.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ TOJI FUSHIGURO
camboy!toji who had no shame and remorse towards his girls, he would be such a filthy beast in bed and never gave you time to catch up with him. Everything he did was for his pleasure and his only. Although with the way you had your lips wrapped around his cock, he couldn’t help but be so sweet— not all the way though, he still loved to torment you.
camboy!toji who had you in a 69 position, forcefully making you suck on him by smacking your pussy whenever you tried to catch your breathe, distracting yourself by reading the comments or looking back at him over your shoulder. “Nobody told you to stop, do that shit one more time and i won’t let you cum at all tonight.”
camboy!toji who got upset with your demeanor and pushed you on your knees and shot hot ropes of his cum all over your face, some slipping down all the way to your breast making you lick his cum of your body while making eye contact with the camera infront of you while he rams his cock inside you.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ KENTO NANAMI
camboy!kento who was more professional and always did what his partner felt like, he didn’t like to have random girls wrapped around his cock— preferring his own girlfriend or wife being the one who was doing that.
camboy!kento who just started last month but blew up one night, people liking him for his voice and physic. His fans loved you the most though, whatever they put in the chat and asked you to do you would, making your view go up by ten percent and getting more subscriptions.
camboy!kento who loved when you would show the audience how much he would fill you up by opening up legs and watching his cum slip out your little pretty cunt, comments taunting him and asked if he had some sort of breeding kink— making him blush and step out of the camera.
camboy!kento who loved how he showed you off and how he didn’t care who watched, he mostly did it because it was a kink you had, voyeurism, but he secretly developed the same kink but he wouldn’t tell you.
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anantaru · 9 months
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Hiya! I just came across your post about what would happen if you said the ‘safe word’ in bed with Alhaitham and ayato.. I was wondering if you’d maybe be able to do it with Kazuha, Xiao and Scaramouche? I’m so curious aha
If you don’t want to I completely understand but I just really like your writing style 🥺
cw. saying the safeword, angsty, fem! reader
a/n. hello loves, quick side note: this is an exception since i had already planned to write them in this scenario as well, please don't send thirsts with more than one character in the future <3 ty and enjoy
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— kazuha
kazuha blows his hips into you, hard, precise storms of his thrusts finding your dribbling cunt and in any other typical case, you would've twisted and turned to have him deeper in you, arch your back when he licks his tongue over your neck to wet the skin— specifically to have his cock crowd you this way, until you're seeing nothing but glittering, white stars.
thus far, it didn't develop into the same thing and you begin to wonder why you haven't felt your best tonight. involuntarily you start to sense how you're clenching down on him, wrapping your trembling arms around his chest and hiding your face into his sweat-troubled neck, his pulse throbbing on your cheek.
for some reason, you thought that if you were to calm yourself down, without telling kazuha how you really felt, it would simply go away but again, this time it didn't and nothing was as important as voicing your concerns and discomfort during sex.
he closes your already troubled breathing state when he moves down to sloppily make out with you, ramming the head of his cock into your deepest spots while excitedly running his hand down your core to play with your little clit and stimulate you further as you did something he never thought he'd ever have to encounter nor witness.
you voice, cry and yell out your safe word over and over, right against his cheek when his eyes shot open in disbelief, large and wide, glossed in unwavering worry. every little sound of you felt like it’s multiplying by a tenfold, and you can’t stop.
kazuha pulls out immediately, pacing his eyes over your shaking figure back and forth, watching you again, back and forth, "my love." he says quietly, loosing the beat of his heart when he witnessed your tears spinning out of control. to be sure he was doing what was necessary, he decided to pull away the blanket which was clumsily thrown over you both in order to make it easier for you to breathe, not leaving your space, but he didn't lay a finger on you, the last he would want now was to cross any more boundaries and it eats him up inside, quietly crying.
"do—" his heart sinks, and so does his voice, "do you need water? are you thirsty? please.." absentmindedly, you run your fingers over his upper arm, but the panic in you, for whatever reason it had emerged, is all-consuming and couldn't be shaken off.
your stomach was in knots and you can barely catch yourself, but you also didn't want kazuha to leave you, voicing him clearly, although with a silent tone, that he should please stay. he directly nods in agreement, placing his palm on top of your agitating hand, telling you to take your time and that it was okay, in fact, you had nothing to worry about, he won't leave.
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— xiao
xiao's rough touch and mundane scent was everywhere around you, perceivable and invading your nostrils. you loved it whenever he was a little rough with you, almost feral, pleasing your body until you're shaking from aftershocks of his skilled thrusts.
that time, he twists his fingers around your nipples, just a bit but he did it repeatedly, like you would if you were turning a particularly sensitive knob— and your mounds of flesh were beginning to burn, while his groans were getting louder, showing sweet euphoric need, through with a loud, fast smack of his hips repeatedly finding your soiled cunt.
in combination with him stimulating you on many parts at once, you suddenly began to feel tense and sore, experience an abnormality like you can’t focus on anything, not on him, especially not on the pleasure that of course, was feeling amazing and well but it also didn't.
your heart was racing greatly and you started to sweat profoundly, cold, washed over sweat untangling over your spine and forehead. subtle hints, such as tapping his shoulder were getting you nowhere, and it only made your situation worse as time passed.
"xiao!" you cry out in an instant, not knowing what to do as his blows got even faster, pistoling into your tight pussy, thinking you're enjoying it as much as he did. "xiao, please stop!" and you squeal your safe word and panic one last time before he immediately stills himself, as if you turned off a switch in his brain, making him reach down to push you away.
his gaze hovers around your face, and that's when he saw it, crystal clear, your scrunched together expression that was signaling no sorts of pleasure and he couldn't settle on looking at you for too long, it was beginning to eat him from the very within and his chest was heavy, filled with stones that kept him chained to the ground, so he gets up to sit next to your quivering body.
xiao was speechless, did he really just inflict clear, hurting pain on the person he loved the utmost, more than himself for that matter.
his once, with pleasure glowing eyes, take on a haunted look, open wide in helpless circles, not knowing what to do. if he were the same person before he met you, he would've left and punished himself for what he did but he knew, he just knew that it would make this situation even worse. so he decided to stay, although he didn't say much at first, he did everything in his power to help you, when you so desired any help of him.
it's when he speaks for the first time, "i'm—" and gulps down, eyes burgeoning with tears yet they do not slip, "i am so sorry." his neck grew corded with tension, jaw evertight as he bites down on his cheeks, "so sorry, so sorry.."
"please don't leave me." he continues, xiao makes the tiniest noise in his voice, a worried hitch in his breathing, and for a moment you think he might be leaving you instead, starting to think again that he wasn't enough and that you do deserve better than him. but he settles back down, he doesn't leave and you would lie if you say it didn't surprise you.
you brush away the spilled, dried tears on your cheeks, "i could never leave you." and take his hand to kiss his knuckles, "it's okay."
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— scaramouche
scaramouche had immense power, you knew of that and how strong and rough he could get. he easily hauls you off his throbbing cock to abruptly push you into the mattress, hovering on top of you now so he could look and read your sinful expressions, gather and indulge in them while you relish in him fucking you with his fully erected cock.
your bottom lip quivers, and tears had since long been rimming around the sides of your eyes and in any other cases it would be an implication that he was doing a good job, "fuck— fuck, that feels so good." he groans out, ramming his hips into your split hole and groaning out when you clench around his girth.
truth is, he was way too fast and needy with you tonight, making it not possible for you to catch a single breather as he uses your cunt as he pleases, taking you in and out and hoisting you back and forth his leaking member. by this time, you could barely look at him with a clear vision, tears parting from your lashes at last when you cry out in gulps and chokes— the stretch on your cunt aching and forming into anything else than pleasure.
while your first moans were fallen on deaf ears, those in particular that slipped past the tip of your tongue now, made his skin shiver.
"wait— no, no." he quickly pulls you off when you began to uncontrollably sob under him, really not knowing what had caused all of this. he was quick to brush away the tears on your face, "i'm— I'm sorry, please don't cry." his touch for now, had been completely different than just moments ago, now it's warm and soft again, understanding and full of sorrow.
he swallows dryly, unable to wet his parched throat, he hated himself very much right now, his muscles stiffened when you decide to look at him. "i'm sorry." you suddenly state, "this is so embarrassing." confusing him even more and archons knew why you were apologizing in the first place, because you absolutely shouldn't.
"don't." he pushes a warm blanket over your cold, shaking body, "don't apologize." he adds on, "you're not at fault, you hear me."
his eyes soften when you nod, searching for his touch, eyes blood shot but you really needed him to hug you right now as he pulled slow circles on your hips, opening his arms for you so you could easily rest your head on his chest. "i was too rough with you tonight, right?"
"i mean—" he quickly retracts his statement, panicking and smacking himself in his imagination, "that's not important, take your time, don't speak and take your time."
"wait, but you can speak.. if you want."
you answer back with a breathless laugh, placing him in an even more confused state but you would lie to yourself if you'd say he wasn't adorable in his stuttering and his desperate attempts to make you feel comforted. "can we lay like this for the night?"
"of course." he affirms you immediately, "you don't have to ask." silently grazing his hand from your hips to place it on your dampened cheek to cradle your face, sweetly kissing your forehead and smiling.
"everything you want."
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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spikesbicth · 5 months
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Got Love Sick All Over My Bed
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Astarion x F!Reader!Tav
Summary: Astarion discovers Tav having a private moment in her tent.
approx 1.5k words
cross posted on ao3
CW: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, masturbation, maybe a tiny bit voyeurism but only if you squint. biting. vampires.
A/N: I am just in the inspiration train so I banged out (lol) this quick one shot. just feeling so creative! once again barely proofread so excuse any glaring issues. Feedback always appreciated :) enjoy!
The smell of smoke lingers on your hair and the clothes lying in a pile at the foot of your bedroll. This was a usual occurrence, as nearly every evening was spent at the fire with your companions, discussing the day and what was to come. Conversations often went in circles, regardless of what had happened that day you often felt you were no closer to safety, always in danger. During these nights, you often found your mind and your eyes wandering to Astarion, whose pale skin and sliver hair was awash with a golden glow from the firelight. He was always entrancingly beautiful, but in this light he was truly ethereal, otherworldly. You were awash with love for him, and yet at the same time completely unsure if he felt the same way or would stick around long enough for you to find out.
These memories and feelings swirl in your mind as you try to relax on the uneven ground. It was difficult to remove your doubtful thoughts of Astarion. In an effort to gain closeness to him, you had offered your neck and your blood to him. Over time, for yourself at least, it had become something you anticipated and desired each night; you wished to steal a kiss from him before the ritual. Tonight, you imagine more. You close your eyes, picturing the crescent of his collar bones under his loose silk shirt he wore each evening at camp. The spot where his jaw meets his neck. The feeling of his body pressing against yours, his broad shoulders and chest that narrow delicately to his waist, his hips, his hands…
Tonight you want him, you want what you know he is capable of doing to you. He is to meet you tonight, in your tent, after the others have settled in their own.
You have time though, don’t you…?
You feel blood rush to your pelvis, a slick arousal beginning to pool between your legs.
Unable to curb your desire you trail your cool fingers down your abdomen, pushing up goosebumps as you progress. Already naked under your blankets, you find your clit and begin to rub small circles, gentle and delicately at first. You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair, sweet with bergamot…
You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair while he kisses you and touches you the way you touch yourself. A light gasp escapes your lips as the image sends a jolt of energy through your body and you press harder with your fingers. You move on for a moment, pushing two fingers inside of yourself, slightly shocked at how wet you have become. You slip further into your fantasy, imagining Astarion cupping your breast while he fingers you, playing with your nipple, kissing your jaw and neck. Gods, you wish for it.
“Oh my… now what do we have here..?” A voice questions in the darkness at the entrance of your tent.
Your stomach drops, and your eyes jolt open.
Oh. Fuck. You think, feeling your cheeks flush. You in fact, did not have time for this before the object of your desires arrived at your stoop. How long had he been there?
“I… uh, hi,” you croak, your mouth slightly dry from the rhythmic breathing forced by your touch.
Astarion widens the slack door of your tent and lets himself in, an knowing grin across his face. He immediately sits beside you near your pillow. No matter how unreasonable, there was no doubt to you that he knew your pounding heart was beating for him. You sit up, pulling your blanket up to cover your bare chest, feeling unusually exposed in front of him tonight.
“Shall we?” He asks, ignoring what you felt to be the elephant in the room. Though you felt embarrassment, the idea of him watching you touch yourself made your clit pulsate and wetness continue to flow from within you.
“Oh, yes… of course.” You answer, trying to hide your arousal.
Astarion moves behind you, sitting with one leg on either side of you. This was not his usual approach to feeding, and you wonder what he is planning.
“Darling, do lean back for me,” he requests, his voice deep and velvety. You lay back, resting your bare back against him. Your heart continues to pound in your chest and at this point, you were more than certain he could feel it. You tilt your chin back looking up at home with wide eyes and meeting his crimson gaze. He leans forward, and you anticipate the joining of your bodies with his bite.
To your surprise, he lays a gentle kiss on your neck. You gasp, and blink, was this a dream?
“Is that alright, my dear?” he asks, his lips brushing your neck as he spoke. You nod yes, rendered speechless by his kiss. “May I continue?” he asks again, and you nod once more, moving a hand slowly to touch one of his legs.
His kiss meets your neck again, kissing slowly, his fangs only occasionally catching your skin rather than piercing it. You feel your throbbing heartbeat between your legs, as you feel the blanket you had pulled across your chest begin to slip down as you arch your back to allow Astarion more access to your neck. The cool air grasps your nipples and they grow dense and hard in response.
“Would you like to continue to touch yourself?” He asks.
Yes Gods, Yes. You wanted to. You wanted him to watch you. Still, the bewilderment you felt of these fantastical actions playing out squirmed at the back of your mind.
“Please… I do,” you affirm. You send your free hand back down to your folds, and find them even slipperier than they were before. The blanket falls further down your chest until your breasts are fully exposed and it only covers your hand working on your clit.
Astarion moves a hand to one of your breasts, continuing to kiss your neck and jaw. His cool touch sends lighting through your body.
Your clit throbs under your fingers, swollen and sensitive. As much as you desired these moments to last forever, there was certainly no way you would be lasting very long. Moaning and gasping in Astarion’s arms, you rub yourself hungrily.
It doesn’t take much more to reach your peak, bursting into orgasm suddenly. Your hips sway, and you clench rhythmically around nothing. Your back arches and you press the back of your head into Astarion’s shoulder.
Your neck now even more exposed, Astarion sinks his teeth into you, your rich, crimson blood flowing into his mouth. You burn in pain, and you close your eyes, submitting to him.
Eventually, the rush calms, and you are left a panting, bloody mess in Astarion’s arms. You look up to his face again, this time moving to meet his mouth.
You join in a passionate kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. You taste your own blood in his mouth and relish in imaging how much he enjoys the taste of you.
It was an explosion of passion, nearly as satisfying as your orgasm mere moments before. His soft lips sliding against yours, his fangs occasionally catching, his tongue touching and sliding against your own.
You pull away for a moment, looking into his ruby eyes.
“How…?” you ask, unable to find the words to describe your confusion at the sudden encounter, almost a recreation of what had occurred in your mind only moments before his arrival.
Astarion opens his mind to you, psychically linking to yours through the tadpoles that swum in your brain. You needn’t see his thoughts to know what has happened. How could you be so naive, of course the tadpole. Of course. In your fit of sudden insatiable desire, you left yourself almost completely unattended. Anyone who was tadpole-afflicted that happened to be wandering by may as well had been broadcasted the images you had conjured in your mind.
Without words, Astarion interrupts your thoughts. You see into his own mind, and are flustered by what you see. The same feelings you hold towards him, the same desires, the same yearning, the same love - but all for you.
You sit up, turning to look at him straight on, completely at a loss for words. He had wished for this as much as you had. A gentle, warm smile spreads across your face.
“Will you… stay with me tonight?” you ask, your voice faltering, still riddled with disbelief.
“I want nothing more” He replies, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek.
Like twisting vines, the two of you entangle yourselves in each others arms, and cuddle into the bedroll. Exhausted and contented, the worries that plagued your thoughts earlier that evening were nowhere to be found, and you knew that you wouldn’t be kept up from them ever again.
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velvetures · 9 months
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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.
So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.
So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!
Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))
I Knew, Sweetheart
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.
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John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.
Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.
Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.
You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.
A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.
John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.
At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.
Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.
God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.
Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.
Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.
“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.
“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”
He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”
Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.
He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.
John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.
“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.
You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.
“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.
“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.
Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.
“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.
“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.
“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.
“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.
“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”
“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”
“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”
His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.
John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.
In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.
“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.
Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.
Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.
“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.
“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.
“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.
“Give me hand, Captain?”
He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.
The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.
“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.
“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.
His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.
John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable
With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.
Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.
“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”
His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.
John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.
Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.
Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.
“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.
It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.
“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.
Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.
God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.
Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.
“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”
Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.
“Please, I want this. I want you John.”
Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.
“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.
Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.
“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.
Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.
Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.
Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.
“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.
You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.
“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.
You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.
He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.
Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.
Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.
“I love you, John. More than anything.”
He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.
“You’re mine too.”
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yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.
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uyuuma · 2 months
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“ I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M FADED ”
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drunk!gojo x exgf!reader ღ MDNI.
❥ summary. you and your toxic ex, gojo, broke up months ago. yet you find his drunk ass outside your apartment door.
❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, toxic ex, manipulative gojo, dub con, dacryphilia, use of the name 'daddy', alcohol mentioned, tw: toxic relationship dynamic, etc.
❥ a/n. okok this one i thought of while i was bored at work, hope y'all enjoyyyy. i had to resubmit this post bc it got taken down bruh lets hope it doesnt happen again (title was inspired from the song 'spotlight' by lil peep; it is encouraged to listen while reading :3)
❥ wc. 3.2k
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Your life has been rather drama-free ever since you broke up with Satoru Gojo.
After the constant arguments and severe manipulation that he had put you through, you decided enough was enough and you told him to essentially fuck off.
But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren't fully over him yet. In fact, life may have been drama-free but it became so boring after that. In some kind of fucked up way, you kind of missed the rollercoaster of emotions he put you through.
That's just how things are you guess, prioritizing your peace over that man was the healthier decision in the long run. You blocked his number and all of his social media as well as ghosting all of your mutuals, like Suguru and Shoko. It was a tough decision but you were tired of them asking about you and Satoru. He's done enough damage to your life already.
It's been radio silence since then, wonderful peace and quiet for two whole months. You found yourself taking up old hobbies again, exercising regularly, and even talking to other men. Life was right back on track and you were on your way to properly healing.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough because he still knew where you lived. You didn't really bank on the fact he would come banging on your door. You believed he would just move on, since he is Satoru Gojo after all. Any woman would be head over heels for the handsome man, even if he was toxic as fuck.
But no, god dammit it all, he is still stuck on you.
Loud banging could be heard on your apartment door. It scared the living daylights out of you when you shot up from beneath your covers. You thought that there was someone trying to break in or perhaps your building manager was trying to alert you to a fire. You immediately rolled out of bed and ran to the door.
That's when you heard that cursed voice.
"Open uppppp!" the voice slurred on the other side.
You groan an exasperated "Noooooo fuckkkk!" under your breath after realizing it's your ex.
"Baby please... I know you're in thereeee" He said in a joking manner.
You open the door a crack, not unhooking the chain lock. "Go away, I told you I never wanted to see you again." You said coldly. Your voice was also a tad raspy, as you had just woken up from a deep slumber.
"Baby don't be like that, let daddy in will you?" He purred through the crack of the door. You could tell he was under the influence of something and it caused you to roll your eyes.
"Fuck no, now leave before I call the cops." You threatened as you went to shut the door.
The door came to a halt with a loud 'THUD'. Satoru grabbed the chain lock with his fist and he held it open before you could shut it. You gasp and jolt back from the audacity that this guy had.
"No no no no no, you're not listening t'me. I wanna talk to you." He said as he tried to pull the chain off the door.
You knew he had the strength to do it too and you didn't feel like replacing it so you annoyedly invited him in.
"Christ, fine but only for a bit! Do you understand me?" You said sharply, unlocking the chain.
"Anything you want, mama." He said grinning, he swiped the door open wide to let his towering frame through the doorway.
You click your tongue in irritation as you quietly close the door behind him. "What do you want, Satoru? It is 3 in the fucking morning!" You whisper yelled.
"Shhhhshhhshh" He spat out at you, putting his long finger against your lips, hushing you. "I just missed you so much, hehe." He found it amusing you were getting angry and it only triggered you more.
"Don't touch me, you're not my boyfriend anymore." You said smacking his hand away from you.
"Says who?" He asks confusedly. He tilts his head to the side.
"Says me!" You said trying not to scream too loud and wake the neighbors.
"Pshhh nah ah!" He says as he smirks. "I say we just forgive each other and move on, huh?" He proposes the idea, with full confidence.
You let out a laugh in disbelief. "Each other? You prick, you're the one that manipulated me and used me! If anything you should be begging me for forgiveness! And you can start by leaving!" Your voice was starting to get louder, but you were beyond infuriated right now.
"What are y'talking about? Don't start with this crazy shit." He said with a twinge of irritation in his voice. He slouched a lot worse than usual, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his sweats. He was wearing that stupid compression shirt that would always make your head spin when you saw it.
He also reeked of alcohol. It was safe to say that the dude was drunk. It took a lot just to get him tipsy, so for him to be this drunk it must've meant he's been at it all night.
"Look baby, I just came from Sukuna's house party and it made me realized how much I missed youuu." he said, his eyes all glossy.
Oh? So, he decided to crawl back after drinking himself silly at some house party? This guy couldn't get anymore pathetic, you thought to yourself. "You stink of booze, get out of my apartment you bum." You said pointing out the door. "I don't need you ruining my life again."
"C'mon don't be like that princess, you know the only thing I'd ever ruin is your slutty little holes." He said, smirking. He grabbed your chin with his hand and brought you close to his face. You could smell the whiskey still hot on his breath.
You were so beyond done with this. "You're repulsive, do not talk about me like that." All of the emotions you had that you've suppressed came back and all at once. You could feel that all too familiar burning in your eyes and throat.
You went silent and smoothed over your hair with your hand, trying to soothe yourself. Do not let him make you cry again. You took a few deep breaths before continuing.
"Look I know you're fucked up, but you need to call an Uber and leave immediately." You said looking up into his eyes to show how serious you were being.
He just continued to give you this cocky smirk while tuning you out. He just won't fucking listen to you.
"Ok! Well here this shit is again! You never take me seriously! It's like I'm this big fucking joke to you!" You yelled out, letting your emotions start to swell inside your chest.
Tears began to spill from your eyes as months and months of frustrations started to unravel. You looked down and brought your sleeve to wipe your tears. "Well, I won't take it anymore! I-" Suddenly you found that your breath was suddenly snatched from your lungs, after looking back up at him.
Satoru was palming his hard-on while you were sobbing. He was getting off to your tears. The fucking bastard.
"Are you─!" You were cut off by Satoru's moans.
"Fuck, you are so sexy when you get all emotional like that. God, I just want to shut you up with my cock." He said eyes fixated on your face.
"You cannot be serious right now!" You've had enough of his shit, you shoved him, trying to get him out the door.
"Oooh playin' rough with me princess?" He doesn't budge from you trying to push him. "Aww, if only you weren't so weak." He says as he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls it up. He yanks your hand above your head and watches you squirm.
He looks thoroughly amused and cracks a smile when you fight back.
"Aw I miss this, us arguing and fighting. It always gets my blood pumping." he said, shoving you to your knees.
You tried to fight where this was inevitably going to end up, but it was no use. Satoru was just too damn strong and too damn convincing.
He hisses as he frees his dick from his sweats. It bobs up and down from the sudden release. Your eyes follow it, mesmerized with how big it was. It's been a few months since you last saw it. You had so many conflicting thoughts racing through your head as you silently knelt on the floor below him.
"Suck." He commanded, holding his tip to your lips. His precum lubricated your soft lips, making you feel sticky already.
You shook your head and used your hands to push away from it using his thighs as leverage. You didn't want to give into him, not after everything.
"No fuck- c'mon baby just open wide." He cooed out to you. Even now he was deciding everything for you. He decided you were going to suck his dick and that's what you were going to do.
It was a struggle between you pushing away and him grabbing your hair and pushing your head down onto his cock. Between his groans in anticipation and your whines in protest, he became increasingly impatient.
"No no no, shhhshhh... that's a good girl." He hiccupped. Satoru successfully got your mouth to take his tip. He grunted and tilted his head back slightly, feeling you slowly but surely take his length.
"Oh fuck, I missed your mouth so much baby." He purred as he parted your hair out of your face.
You closed your eyes in defeat as tears began sliding down your cheeks. He held your head still with one hand gripping on your pony tail and pumped himself in and out of your mouth.
"Fuuuuck, no matter where I looked I couldn't find another girl who satisfied me like you do." He started to invade your throat with his length, making your esophagus become sore and your lungs burn from the lack of air.
You choked on his cock, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, as well as down his balls. Your fingernails dug deep into his thighs, trying to either push yourself off or for leverage. One of the two, you didn't know anymore. All you knew was that little warm sensation that built between your legs. Your body was betraying you, you were supposed to hate this man, to not let him abuse you anymore. But fuck, his cock hit all the right places in your tight throat. Your eyes begin to cross as you struggle to breathe.
"Shit, you swallow me so good. Mmm, tell me you want daddy to cum down your throat." He said fucking into your mouth, your lewd slurping sounds were very pleasing to his ears.
You let out a muffled moan in response, obviously you couldn't say anything but that was enough of an answer for him.
"Oh fuck, take my load." he ordered, his abs flexing as he came. He groaned as he painted your throat white with his seed. You could feel the hot, sticky fluid make its way down your throat as you swallowed it all.
More tears fell onto your cheeks. "Hate you, 'toru." you whined out, throat still raw from his dick forcing its way in.
Satoru gave you that cocky smile again and tapped his cock against your cheek as you pouted. "Still harddd." he sang. "Wanna be a doll f'me and get on all fours?" He said wiping the spit off your chin.
You were so disappointed in yourself. This man was forcing himself back into your life and all you could do was watch as it happened. You looked up at him and see that faded look in his eyes. They say that drunk words were sober thoughts, has he been wanting to do this for two months?
Despite everything, you did exactly as he said. You turned around and lowered yourself onto all fours. Truth is, your pussy was aching for him and it had been since you guys broke up. Those men couldn't satisfy you and neither could your dildo, at least not like how Satoru can. Perhaps this whole situation was inevitable.
You pull down your panties and shamefully spread your pussy out for him, showing how you were already wet and ready for him to stretch you out.
"Aww, baby you're already soaked. I haven't even touched you down there yet." He said kneeling down to take a closer look. He took his hand to grip your ass and moved his thumb to swipe a line against your cunt.
You shuddered from the satisfaction of finally being touched where you were aching. You could hear shuffling from behind you and felt a sudden wet, warmth swipe up and down on your clit.
You gasped and clasped your hand over your mouth in response to Satoru suddenly eating you out. How polite of him to at least warm you up.
There was something so feral about the way he ate you out. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he was sloppily sucking on your clit making your legs shake from the pleasure. He began humming and moaning as his tongue entered you, pumping in and out. His fingernails were digging into the fat of your ass as he spread your cheeks nice and wide for him.
Your arms wanted to give out from under you, but the bastard chose to fuck you on the cold hardwood flooring in the foyer. So you struggled to hold your head up, as if that would protect your dignity.
Satoru parted his mouth from your now slick folds, spit dripping all over your floors. "Mmm, baby I missed tasting you." He said, lust dripping from his voice almost as much as the saliva down his chin. He wiped the drool and slick from his mouth and gave your ass a swift 'SMACK'. You yelped out from the sudden sting.
"You ready baby? This is my favorite part." He cooed into your ear as he rutted his erection against your pussy.
"Yes 'Toru, fuck me please." You whined out. You were already gone, you just wanted the sweet release of the growing knot in your tummy. It was far too late to fight back at this point, all you could think about was him rearranging your guts.
He didn't need to hear any other words of confirmation as he aligned his throbbing cock with your dripping cunt. He pushed the tip in and let a shaky moan out along with a hiss.
"Fuck, always so tight." He groaned while thrusting just the tip in and out of your hole. His hands were still gripping your ass at this time, but he moved his left hand to grip onto your shoulder, lowering you onto his cock.
You let out such sweet moans and whimpers as he watched your pretty cunt swallow him up. He was mesmerized, trying not to cum at the very sight of it. He gave a drawn out sigh in relief from feeling your gummy walls clamp onto him.
He repositioned his large hands to have a strong grip on your waist as he started to thrust in and out of you. It was a slow rhythm at first, nice and sensual like he was trying to massage your insides.
It drove you insane, feeling him drag in and out. He had your back arched, so you folded your arms and laid on them. You scraped the floors with your nails as you felt him start to smack his hips against your ass.
"Mmm... fuck Satoru..." you mewled out, shoulder blades pushing together as your back curved in.
"M'gonna ruin your little pussy." He said making his thrusts rougher. "Gonna punish you for leaving me." He grunted out through clenched teeth. He let out a breathy moan as he leaned over you, slamming his hips flush against your ass.
You let out a sharp squeal as he jackhammered your cervix at this new angle. This squeal pleased him so much that he chuckled and said, "Keep making those cute little sounds."
He caged you beneath him by putting all of his weight on his left arm, holding his hand steadily on the floor by your head. He took his right arm and roughly took your arms from beneath your head. He pinned them both behind your back as he relentlessly pounded into you. This way he could have complete control over your body.
Your face was now met with the cold floor. Your cheek was squished and your mouth agape, drooling from the mind-melting ecstasy. You were starting to see stars, eyes not being able to focus on a single thing. Not that you could see through your tears anyways. You felt your climax approaching rapidly, pussy clenching him uncontrollably.
He started to curse under his breath as his thrusts became more shaky and messy from the pressure. You could tell he was nearing his orgasm too.
"Fuck baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you squeeze me." He said, his words coming out super slurred. You couldn't see his expression but you could tell from his voice that he was not only drunk but also pussy-drunk.
Your hands clenched from behind your back and your whole body seized up as you reached your limit. "F-fuck m'gonna cum daddy!" You screeched out, forgetting it was four in the morning. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gasped. Your whole body spasmed as you felt that sweet release you had been craving for months.
"Oh shit baby-" He cut himself off as he bit down on his lip. He hunched his entire body over you and his hands flew to grip onto your hips. "M'gonna fucking fill you so deep" He whimpered as he slammed your ass tightly against his pelvis. You could feel him twitch against you as that familiar warmth invades your pussy.
His curses are much louder this time around, slurring out profanities as thick ropes of cum coat your walls.
You gave one last whine before completely collapsing under him. "Satoru..." you said softly, very much out of breath.
He was silent for a second, slowly pulling himself out of your sore, leaking hole. He took his thumb and plugged your cunt so that his precious fluids stayed inside.
You squeaked from the feeling and laid on the floor in defeat. Your whole body was spent and you felt as if you could pass out on the floor.
He stood up and lifted his sweats back up. "C'mon princess lets go back to bed." He said kneeling back down to pick you up.
"I hate you, Satoru." You said meekly. You meant it, yet you didn't at the same time.
"Love you too baby." He said picking you up, bridal style.
He carried you to your bed, slipping under the covers with you. He spooned you and rested his face in the crook of your neck.
His scent was intoxicating, cologne mixed with musk and alcohol. Fuck, you really did miss him after all.
Whatever, you'll deal with kicking him out in the morning. Or not. You weren't sure anymore as you drifted back to sleep.
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graybby · 30 days
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The F1 driver's Streamer sister
Lando Norris X Twitch streamer Russell!reader
Part 1 - ongoing series ! 820 words
Hi ! this is my first time writing anything on tumblr - I used to make fics on wattpad like years ago so I'm a bit rusty, hopefully you guys will like my content enough for me to keep up with it - graybby <3
Faceclaim - Nihachu
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She's his sister?!
The door cracks open as Max rushes into Lando’s room giggling to himself. 
“Mate guess what-” Lando’s head snaps up at the intrusion to what he was watching on his phone “what?” tilting his head questionably. 
“You know that twitch streamer you watch Y/N?” - he definitely had his full attention now. 
“SHE'S GEORGE'S SISTER!” Lando juts his lip out and tilts his head, confusion setting in. 
Max laughs “George... George freaking Russell -you know?” 
Lando’s face drops, jaw swinging open - “No fucking way… you-you’re lying to me, you have to be” 
Max shakes his head, deadpanned trying to stifle another laugh. “How did you even find out?” the brunette says - shock written all over his face. 
“George just posted on his private insta and it was a pic of them with HER private account tagged - last name RUSSELL”. Lando jumps to his feet running to snatch Max’s phone to see for himself still in disbelief. 
His eyes scan the page immediately acknowledging the familiar last name she appears to share with the fellow driver he shares his races with. 
“How the hell have they both kept this a secret? Does she even support him at the races? No one has ever spotted her at one " he remarks "Oh yeah - trust you to know that mate” Max pipes up earning a slap to the shoulder as Lando turns away grumbling. 
Max laughs again “Maybe she hides away in the Mercedes garage, at least you might have a chance to be introduced to her now” Lando reddens at the thought of meeting his internet crush “Please shut up Max” he pleads trying to hide his blush behind his hands. 
Max edges towards the door “Anyway, I’m going to bed - I’ll leave you to stalk her - night!”, “Whatever, night Max” he groans out as his friend shuts his bedroom door. He rolls over in his bed, reaching out he grabs his phone and wastes no time in searching for her account. Immediately finding said post on George’s page, he taps the tagged account - without a single thought he follows her. Turning his phone off his heart raced at the anticipation of whether she would even accept his request, him being an absolute stranger to her. 
Ding! 
He feels his stomach flip. She accepted! And followed me back! He feels his palms sweating. Rushing to his notifications he taps on her account and begins browsing through her posts, seeing a vast amount of aesthetic images - that give his .JPG account a run for its money- dating back a few years of her life, a sea of different hair colours and styles of clothing she has adorned over the years and still to his surprise a couple of candid shots of herself and George - a goofy smile worn on both their faces during a water fight on a beach holiday, his memeable pose in ski suits at a resort and most recently few shots from around the paddocks in Saudi Arabia from the last grand prix he had raced with George and the others only last week. Suddenly her change of streaming schedule and lack of main social media presence adds up - she’s been hiding in plain sight - supporting her brother while trying to maintain her distance from the Russell last name, probably knowing the craziness that would ensure if both the Formula 1 and her own twitch fanbase discovered who she was related to. He can’t help the smile gracing his face as he scrolls through her posts, staring at the smile that reaches her eyes in her pictures - capturing her beauty and personality oh so well. He wonders if she spent hours specially cultivating this flow of aesthetic images and if she had anyone in mind when she posted them as he ponders what else she might be hiding from her fanbase. Stop it Lando, he grunts to himself, a hundred thoughts clouding his mind she never mentioned in any stream that she had a boyfriend so calm down - but then again she literally hid her own brother and who he is. He continues doom scrolling her account much to his relief when he realises there's no evidence of a boyfriend in any of her posts - his thumb slips. Fuck! 
His heart drops to his stomach as he realises he's liked one of her pics from two years ago. He immediately closes the app, quick to chuck the phone to the end of his bed as if it were physically hurting him to hold it any longer. He sighs and brings a hand up to rub his temples and tired eyes, glancing at his bedside table at the clock that reads two thirty AM, he decides he needs to try and sleep - hopefully she won't even notice. 
As his eyes are fluttering shut he hears the dooming sound of an instagram notification. 
Ding ! 
Oh fuck. 
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Thank you for reading <3
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moonstruckme · 7 months
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you did the james x hufflepuff prank story so good. BUT i think what would be so iconic is the reverse. IF a slytherin reader got tired of james and the gang's shenanigans against the slytherins and decides to get revenge which maybe goes a bit wrong?? i live for a little enemies to lovers haha!
Thanks for requesting my love!
cw: alcohol, spiked drinks
James Potter x slytherin!reader ♡ 1.4k words
You’d thought the only downside of your prank was that you wouldn’t get to see it happen. The best you could hope for was an overheard conversation in class about how the marauders had gotten drunk on the firewhiskey Sirius kept stored under his bed and had somehow ended up naked in the forbidden forest trying to befriend the faeries or something like that. 
You certainly hadn’t expected James Potter to come knocking at the door to the Slytherin common room at nearly one in the morning. 
Your scowl is immediate upon seeing him, more instinct than anything, but you're surprised that he almost matches it. James’ eyes are fierce, his hair in disarray and his lips downturned. He’s breathing hard like he’s run all the way here. 
You raise a brow. “Can I help you?”
“One—” he pants. “One of you tampered with our alcohol. I need—need to know who.” He starts to push the door open, but you stop it with your foot. “Let me in.” 
“That won’t be necessary,” you say coolly, though you’re more than a little alarmed by the grim set of the Gryffindor captain’s features. You don’t know James very well, but you’ve seen enough of him over the years to know that his geniality is usually unshakeable. Has a taste of his own medicine really gotten him this riled? “What’s happened to your alcohol, Potter, and why do you assume someone in Slytherin is responsible?” 
James huffs. “I don’t know what’s happened to my alcohol. All I know is that I’ve got fifth-years in the common room flapping their arms and saying they’re going to join a dragon colony, and I need to know if there’s an antidote to give them.” He seems to anger with every word. His eyes narrow on you, and you never would have thought to find James Potter intimidating, but you’re something close to intimidated now. Your stomach does a little flip. “And when an entire party of Gryffindors gets roofied the night before our quidditch match with Slytherin, I’m bound to make some assumptions.” 
“Take me to them.”
“What?”
“I might be able to help,” you say, forcing your shoulders back and your chin up a notch. “I’m good at potions, and it could take forever to track down the person who drugged your alcohol. Let me try to figure it out.” 
James shakes his head at you, straightening his glasses. “I don’t have time to mess around.” 
“I can tell.” You slide out of the opening in the door, shutting it behind you before James can think to dash through. “But I think I’m your best shot.” You start towards the Gryffindor rooms, hoping he’ll follow. 
He does, jogging to catch up to your brisk strides. You don’t like the idea of wasting time any more than James does. Your prank was supposed to be contained, a little joke to get back at the small group of Gryffindor boys for their endless volley of pranks against your house. You were supposed to have the gratification of knowing you’d made fools of the marauders for one night, not roofie an entire party of innocent students. Well, Gryffindors. But still. 
“How did you not end up drugged?” you ask as you walk. 
“Quidditch match tomorrow,” James replies simply. “I didn’t want a hangover. Not,” he adds, “that I’ve ever had a hangover. I’m Head Boy; any drinking that happens in Gryffindor house is, of course, without my knowledge or participation.” 
You have to bite back a small smile. “Of course.” 
He murmurs the password to the fat lady as you approach, and you ignore the judgemental look she passes over your green robes as she swings aside, begrudgingly allowing you entry. 
Your guilt increases tenfold at the scene in the common room. 
Lily Evans has posted herself by the door, turning back students vying for exit. There is indeed a group of fifth-years waving their arms about and looking out the windows as if they’d take to the skies, and half of the Gryffindor quidditch team looks to be trying to start a match indoors. 
James takes your hand when you linger too long by the entryway, tugging you through the crowd. You stop at a small table, where the empty bottle of firewhisky sits next to a giant bowl where they’ve apparently mixed it with coca cola or something. You lean down over the bowl, sniffing cautiously like you imagine you would if you didn’t know what it was. Thankfully, one ingredient has left a scent. 
“Scurvy grass,” you say to James, straightening. “It’s the main ingredient in befuddlement draught.” 
“S’exactly what I said,” Remus Lupin comments from the couch, seemingly speaking to a pillow he’s got in his lap. “We’ve all got scurvy.”
James ignores his friend, raising his eyebrows at you. “That was quick. Is there an antidote?” 
You frown, letting the very real regret you’re feeling show in your expression. “None that I know of,” you reply. “It’s like alcohol, it just fades with time.” 
James looks around the room worriedly. “How much time?”
You shake your head. “Not likely soon enough. Your best bet is getting everyone to bed. They’ll sleep it off.” 
James takes a deep breath. “Alright, I can do that. Evans!” he calls, getting the Head Girl’s attention. “We’re to put them to bed.” 
Lily nods, gathering a few girls from around her and herding them upstairs. James heads for the fifth-years, blabbering something about how dragons need rest to keep their fire hot. You don’t think that’s true, but the students start moving nonetheless, James keeping them going with words of encouragement each time they try to turn back. 
“Could you just stay by the door?” he asks you as he follows them upstairs. “Make sure nobody leaves.” 
You nod, posting yourself by the entryway and telling anyone that comes close to go to bed. Your persuasive skills aren’t up to par with James or Lily’s, but eventually they get everyone to their rooms, and James is the only one who comes back down the stairs. 
He rubs harshly at his eyes, disrupting his glasses, and begins to clean up the mess of the party. You join him, gathering discarded cups and setting up a pile of left items (shoes and wands and even a pair of pants) by the fireplace. 
“If you’re still worried about the match,” you say after awhile, “everyone should be fine by tomorrow morning. The effects of befuddlement draught don’t usually last for more than a few hours, and sleeping will help.” 
“You seem somewhat of an expert on befuddlement draught,” James says lightly.
You flush, bending to pick up another cup. “It was on the OWLs. I studied hard.” 
He hums noncommittally. “Well, I appreciate you coming to help clean up your own mess.” 
You look at him, an inquiry as to what he could possibly mean already forming on your tongue, but the look on James’ face stops you. He knows. “It was only supposed to be you,” you say. “It was Black’s firewhiskey, I thought it would just be him, you, and maybe Lupin drinking it. I didn’t think you would share.” 
James actually laughs at that. “Yes, sharing! How ridiculous of us.” 
You huff, despising him for the shame twisting in your gut. “I’m just trying to tell you that it wasn’t my intention to spike the drinks of all of Gryffindor.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe if you didn’t distribute your alcohol, these things wouldn’t happen.” 
James crosses his arms. “As I’ve said, I would personally never distribute alcohol or endorse underage drinking. But it seems that, whatever may or may not have happened tonight involved a series of unfortunate accidents, which could have been avoided if several parties had been more responsible.” 
You bristle at the veiled scolding. Frankly, James implicating himself as partially responsible for the night’s events doesn’t do much to alleviate your guilt either. He’s gone soft on you, the panic that had fueled his earlier breach in character worn away, and he’s back to his lighthearted, irritatingly nice self. 
You can’t look at it, and you roll your eyes as you turn away, tossing the last cup into the trash bin on your way to the door. “See you at the match tomorrow, Potter.” 
You can practically feel the warmth of his smile at your back. “See you there. And I’ll be keeping an eye on my drinks in the future, so don’t get it in your head to try it again!”
Oh, James can rest easy. You won’t.
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whiskersz · 2 months
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Heyy, could u do a head canon/one shot (or anything else whatever u want) about fem angel!reader and adam just being cute together maybe her preening him like birds do bc I love to think of the angels just as big ass birds haha or anything else cute for that matter.
If u don't want to that's completely fine of course hope u have a great day/night!!
*taps fingers together* hey...I know I said I wouldn't post today but like, I'm a little silly!
Loved writing this even though it's short...enjoy!!
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Adam x Fem! Angel! Reader - Preening
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You sat behind Adam, facing his back on his king sized bed, a large towel laid underneath you and a couple products that you had grabbed from his bathroom placed beside you. In the warmth of a late afternoon, he had called you for an alleged emergency, and you, being the caring girlfriend that you were, had immediately rushed to his place.
The emergency had simply turned out to be a couple feathers out of place in his wings, but on further inspection he clearly needed a good preening session from your more expert hands.
“I told you to do this every now and again, Adam.” You gently scolded him, applying some smoothing cream starting from the base of his wings. He let out a content hum before retorting;
“Yeah, yeah. Already told you I do it enough times.”
“And how often do you mean by ‘enough times’?”
You couldn’t see it, but he rolled his eyes at the question.
“Like, once a week.” He heard you huff, “I’m a busy man, babe.”
You resisted nagging him, focusing on the task at hand instead. His feathers looked slightly rough, differently from yours and the other Angels’, who usually preened at least once a day. It was like taking care of your hair after all, you thought.
Glad that you didn’t have anything else to say, he lowered his gaze back on his phone, concentrating on some videogame he had recently downloaded to pass the time. He had this habit of keeping the volume really high no matter where he was, while you would’ve preferred to listen to the birds chirping outside and the gentle buzzing of the city in the distance, but you were too focused to complain now.
Fortunately he got bored of the game pretty quickly, allowing you to smooth out each feather with the cream in silence. You slowly got to the longer feathers of his left wing, which you had to get on your knees to reach since they were so far away. He tucked his wings in a bit to help you.
“Thank you darling, but I’m gonna need them to be sprawled out to do this properly.”
He let out a small ‘oh’ before stretching his wing out again, unhappy that his attempt to make this easier for you had gone to waste.
You kept working silently, helped by the orange-ish light coming from outside; his curtains had been hung to the side to let more light in.
Adam had to admit that feeling your hands work on his wings was rather relaxing; he rested his unmasked face against his hand and allowed himself to close his eyes. Had he been lying down, he was sure he would’ve fallen asleep.
You smiled and paused to gently kiss the back of his neck, a gesture he had grown fond of especially whilst you were preening his wings or he was busy trying to cook something in the kitchen.
“I love you.” you casually said, starting to work on his right wing.
“Love you too, angel face.”
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rainydayathogwarts · 2 months
Text
Open arms - Emily Prentiss
Smut - the way this fic has been sitting half written in my drafts forever. Go me for finally getting it done. Summary: Emily can't help but approach her ex in a dimly-lit bar wc: 2.1k
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Emily thought that the night would be nice and relaxing for her and the team, celebrating another closed case at their favourite bar, their laughter drowning out the sounds of other people's conversations in the dim-lit restaurant. That was until her eyes locked in on a familiar figure standing near the bar, most definitely accompanied by someone. Emily froze, her hand tightly gripping her drink, and audibly gasped when you turned around, exposing your face to her.
"Y/n?" She whispered, catching Penelope and Derek's attention, who both turned to look at her. "You okay there Prentiss?" But she really wasn't. You were her only partner who ever stayed up waiting for her to come home from a case, genuinely concerned about her. You held her in your arms, letting her just sit there and open up if she wanted to. If she didn't, it didn't bother you, and you showered her with love nonetheless, always managing to pull a smile from her. And you were definitely the best in bed. Having you withering under her, relentlessly crying out her name was an image Emily would never forget.
She regretted leaving you every day, but it would keep you safe. After seeing what Hotch had to go through, she knew it was the smartest decision. Now that you were there though, in person after over a year of being apart, she wouldn't be able to stay away from you. If you would let her that was. She remembered your reaction, how you completely broke down, calling bullshit on her 'keeping you safe' excuse.
"I'm fine." She said, bringing herself out of her trance to take a long sip of her drink. "That an ex of yours?" Derek questioned, looking at you, now talking to a friend. You looked gorgeous, he thought. Your short black dress showed off your long legs and had a low cut to display your biggest weapon, the heels you wore flexing your calf muscles in the nicest way possible. Your stunning smile exposed your white teeth while a hand flipped your hair over your shoulder. He wondered how a dumbass like Emily was able to get you.
Emily's head shot back in your direction when she heard coughing, only to find out it was you, your face now going red as you choked on your drink, your friend, who Emily now realised she knew from when you dated, rubbing your back. Oh no... When the coughing stopped, you immediately looked back at her, confirming your suspicions. She returned your eye contact, awkwardly waving at you before you were suddenly facing away from her, refusing for the interaction to continue, earning a sympathetic look from your friend.
Emily heard a chorus of "Oof" and "Oh"s from the team, who were all cringing at the interaction. "Shut up." Emily groaned, stealing a shot from in front of Derek and downing it. She coughed twice, ignoring Derek's complaints, and turned to Spencer who was now telling them a statistic about exes. "It was actually found that 44% of Americans get back with their exes at some point after breaking up. And that only includes relationships post-break up instead of one night stands, so I'd say your chances are pretty high."
As much as Emily was unimpressed that Reid was giving her dating advice, she found herself walking up to you the minute your friend left, leaving you alone at the bar. Better me than anyone else shooting their shot, she thought. It was only when she stood right next to you that she realised she had no idea what to say and that the entire team was probably watching their interaction. She cleared her throat, muttering a small "Hey." You jumped slightly, rotating on the bar stool to face your ex-girlfriend. Emily expect you to frown, thrown your drink in her face even, but to her shock, you cracked a small smile at her. "Hey Em". "Can I sit?" She asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.
You nodded, watching her as she sat. She looked different. She had cut her hair into bangs and wore her hair pin straight instead of the loose curls she'd put them in. She wore a low cut black top with black jeans as well as her go to combat boots. You assumed she came here straight from work. When you looked back up at her face, she was still staring at you, her gaze stuck on your thighs. "Um, can I get you a drink or something?" Her head shot up and she shook it "No, I've had enough to drink. Thanks." A long awkward silence followed and you looked over at the table she had come from, watching as all of her friends' heads shot in the opposite direction apart from one of them, still cluelessly observing you.
"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-" "No!" You cut her off, cheeks going rosy. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"
That walk led you both to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi as you made small talk, no discussion of going to either of your apartments until you were both sat in the back of the taxi on the way to your flat. Emily's hand rested on your thigh, both of your sides pressed against each other, faces mere inches apart as her free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You felt your desire for Emily grow, squeezing your thighs together to get any amount of friction.
Emily's eyes caught the movement, smiling slightly as she felt her own core heat up for you. She leaned towards you to look out of the window, pressing her tits up against you as she tried to see how far away you were from the apartment, making small talk while you waited. The second the taxi driver pulled the car over, she was tossing her money at him and following you out of the car, both her hands resting on your hips as you led her into your fancy building and towards the elevator. The second you were in the elevator, pressing the button to the right floor, her hands were wrapping around your waist and she was pressing her lips against the soft skin of your neck.
You grabbed her hand when the elevator doors opened, leading the way to your apartment and frantically opening and shutting the door before you turned around, throwing yourself into Emily's arms. You slammed your lips onto hers, wrapping your arms around her neck as you pressed your body against hers. Her hands were immediately under the skirt of your dress, groping the fat of your ass in her hands. You pulled away from the kiss, muttering "couch" to Emily, who complied, bending down slightly so she could wrap her arms around the back of your legs and picking you up.
You squealed as she walked you over to your big couch, having forgotten about her FBI agent strength. She dropped you on the couch, crawling over you but you pushed her back so she fell flat on her back on the large couch, throwing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She tried sitting up but you pushed her back, kissing her again so she would give in, letting you take control of the kiss. Her hands trailed up your body until they reached your tits and she tugged at the front of your dress, letting them spill out the front of it. You gasped, and she took your shock to her advantage, throwing her hips up into yours and rolling over so she was on top of you.
Her hands were instantly on your tits, pulling and twisting at your nipple, the other one in her mouth. "Em, Emily!" You begged, trying to grind your hips into hers but she wouldn't listen, taking her time kissing all over your body. When she couldn't reach any more skin due to the fabric of your dress, she fully separated from you, ordering you to turn around so she could undo the zipper. So you got up onto your knees, allowing Emily to undo your dress and pull it above your head, before her hands were wandering again, down your stomach and into the skimpy panties you wore.
She moaned into your ear, feeling how wet you were before both her hands were at your hips again and she was tugging you towards her as she fell backwards, landing you in her laps. She welcomed your kisses, tightly gripping your hips as you ground your cunt on her jean-clad skin. Eventually, you got desperate, tugging her shirt up so you could feel underneath it, hungrily reaching for her tits. At your whine, she finishes the job for you, tossing her shirt somewhere in the room before your hands were back behind her, unclasping her bra.
Before you manage to throw yourself onto Emily even further, you feel her hand under your panties, immediately searching for your clit, which she finds in mere seconds. You hear yourself begging for her, struggling to hold yourself above her. Emily's hands manhandle you so your back in pressed against hers, your legs spread in front of you. Her hands begin wandering once more, and she inserts two fingers into your warm core. You cry out, arching your back as Emily continues to suck hickeys onto your neck.
Her unoccupied hand plays with your tits, alternating which one she massages. Your head rests in the crook of her next, trying not to buck your hips into her hand as she continues fingering you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, and you're too far into pleasure land to think of how much of a mistake you were making. You feel the familiar knot building up in your stomach and whimper, your hands reaching below you to grasp Emily's thigh. Moaning loudly with an arch of your back, you cum on Emily's hand. Emily, who is whispering praises in your ear and brushing your hair out of your face with her free hand.
With the effects of your orgasm now gone and you catching your breath, you begin to internally cringe. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? You will yourself to turn around in Emily's arms, whispering "Your turn", fully aware that she wouldn't say yes. "No baby, it's okay. This is just about you." You nod, allowing yourself to fall onto the couch beside her. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Dragging yourself up from the couch, your legs still shaking, you shut the bathroom door before Emily gets the time to follow you.
You wrap a free towel around your torso, mentally cussing yourself out, thinking of a way to get Emily out of your house. The clock on the wall reads 3:28. It's late. You should go home. Repeating the words to yourself, you open the bathroom door to be met with the tall brunette. She smiles widely, a hand coming to your hip to bring you close and kiss you softly. You return her kiss but can't bring yourself to do the same with a smile. She senses the change in your behaviour and you take that as your chance to tell her: "It's late. You should go." You look down and away from her face so you can't see the way her smile drops. "Right. Um, this was fun." Your hum is enough of an answer to her and you practically chase her to the door once she's fully clothed.
Once the door is shut behind her, you peek through the peep hole to see her bring a hand up to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She calls someone on the phone, someone you can only imagine was at the table with her at the bar. Listening closely through the door, you hear "No Derek, I did not win her heart back. She's really done with me."
But it's late. You should go sleep.
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wriothesleybear · 6 months
Note
heyy, it’s the anon that requested for wrio’s spicy massage. No worries at all, I have definitely spent a considerable amt of time thinking about caressing wrio’s thick, muscley, sinful *gets shot*
Needless to say your first write-up still scratched that itch 😳
p.s - looking forward to the new version hehe
lmao ily massage!anon🥹❤️i'm glad you still liked my previous version! i think i have too much of Wrio's cock-..Wrio on my mind. Wrio's on my head 24/7. i can't help it ;-; i hope you enjoy this version as well anon! i'll post it here just for you. i may have gone a little overboard..given the 2k word count. anyways, have a lovely day massage! anon🥰!
~warnings: massage that turns into sex, wrio pampering fem!reader, pussy eating, fingering, overstimulation, mentions of cum and squirting, and some fluff at the end, MDNI!
Word count: 2,247
Wriothesley noticed how stressed you've been lately due to work. The massive amounts of paperwork, the late nights and overtime to finish the work you haven't finish during your work time, having to deal with clients, coming home late and not even having the energy to eat the cold dinner he left for you or even changing out of your clothes into your pajamas. He understands what that is like and you helped him relieve his stress so he wants to do the same for you. When Friday came, you were finally able to catch up with work and leave on time to make it home for dinner with Wriothesley. You wanted to relax and celebrate with him by going out to the surface and having dinner at your guys' favorite restaurant. You couldn't help the excitment you felt when going down the long elevator ride to the Fortress.
Once off the elevator, you immediately head over to your boyfriend's office, wanting to surprise him. You open the door to his office and close it behind you. When you turn around, you notice rose petals all over the floor, leading to your shared bedroom door. You're surprised but curious so you follow the road of rose petals. You open the door to your shared bedroom and gasp when you see the room. The path of rose pedals led to your shared bed, where more pedals decorated the blanket. The room's light is off and is instead lit up by the lavender scented candles surrounding the room. As the smell hits your nose, you immediately feel relaxed. You wonder where your boyfriend is and call out his name. He appears from the other doorway in your room that leads to the bathroom. You notice all he's wearing is his boxers, making you blush, "Welcome home my love," he says as he walks towards you. Grabbing your hand, he kisses the back of it. "I see you were able to make it home on time today." It takes a few seconds for you to gain your train of thought back from admiring his body. Stumbling, you answer him, "Y-yeah. I finished all my work and wanted to come home and surprise you, but I see you already had a surprise for me."
"I know how stressed from work you've been lately and I wanted to help you relieve some of that stress." You blush and smile, touched by the gentle act of your boyfriend. He closes the door behind you and takes you by the hand, guiding you towards the bed. Letting go of your hand, he moves towards the top button of your blouse. He pauses and looks at you, searching for your consent to continue. You smile and nod your head, signaling yes. He smiles back and begins unbuttoning your blouse. It drops to the floor. He gently turns you around, your back facing him as he unclasps your bra, letting that fall to the floor as well. He has you turn back to face him. His hands move down to your skirt, unzipping the zipper on the side and letting it slip down your legs. He holds your hand to steady you as you step out of your skirt. Lastly, he slips his fingers inside the band of your panties, hooking them and slowly sliding them down your legs. Bending down to kneel at your feet, he lifts one left at a time, removing your underwear and tossing it in the pile of your clothes. As he stands up, he slowly glides his fingers, up your legs, your thighs and to your hips and waist, sending shivers down your spine. "Lay down on your stomach." You do as he says and lay on the bed, back facing him. He grabs something from the bedside table and kneels on the bed beside you. You're unable to see what he's doing as you hear a click from beside you and the sound of him rubbing something between his hands.
A few seconds later, his strong hands begin to rub against your back, massaging your tense muscles. You feel the warm slick on his hands from the massage oil. He starts from the middle of your back, slowly moving up towards your shoulders, then back down to your lower back. He gently adds pressure to get the knots out. You let out a moan, letting him know how good his massage feels. You move your head, face in the covers and arms to your sides, giving him better access to your neck and shoulders. He takes the signal and focuses on massaging there. He hears your moans muffled in the covers, making him laugh under his breath. "Does it feel that good?" You lift your head, making it easier for you to talk clearly. "Yes, it feels great Wrio. You're really helping the stress leave my body." He smiles at your praise. His hands massage down towards your hips, to the back of your legs, giving them attention as well. Fingers pushing on the right areas to relieve the tension and built up stress. Once he's done with your legs, he slowly moves back up your thighs, making sure to cup your ass and massage it a bit, then back up to your back. You sort of wished he would go back down to your ass and give it more attention, but then he tells you to flip over. You listen to him and flip over onto your back.
He adds more oil to his hands, mixing it between his hands and goes on to massage your arms. You watch and notice how focused he looks on getting all the knots out of your hands. You smile, knowing how sweet of a boyfriend you have. While lost in your thoughts, your eyes begin to admire other features of your sexy boyfriend. Such as his nice, buff biceps, and his strong, back full of muscles. You think about how nice his chest looks and his chiseled abs. How good his thick thighs look and how delicious his co-
You're broken out of your thoughts by your boyfriend calling your name. "Hm? What?"
"I asked you if you were okay. You looked lost in thought." He asks. "Oh! I'm ok. Just..thinking about how nice the massage feels is all." He only hums in reply, but he noticed how your eyes were scanning his body and how your thighs tighten together. He smirks to himself. He finishes massaging your arms and moves down to your legs, starting from your feet first and slowly moving up. When he finally gets to your thighs, he massages and teases you by rubbing the inside of your thighs, getting close to your core, but never directly touching it. You quietly whimper. His hands glide up your hips, to your stomach, and to your waist. You can tell he's teasing you by missing the areas you want him to touch the most.
Once he's done with teasing you, his hands go to cup your breasts, slowly massaging them. You moan, enjoying the feeling of his strong hands groping your chest. He pinches your nipples, sending shocks down your spine. "Wrio~" you moan his name. He replaces his hands with his mouth, sucking on one nipple while teasing the other. Eventually, his hand glides down your stomach to your pussy. He rubs his fingers between your folds, making sure to massage your clit and tease your hole. The massage oil makes it easier for his fingers to slip into you with ease. He pumps his fingers into you at a slow pace, wanting to take his time with helping you feel good. The tenderness of your boyfriend as he fingers you and sucks on your nipple pushes you over the edge. You moan and spasm around his fingers as you come undone. He continues to finger you through your high until you finally come down.
He finally stops his movements and gets up. He grabs a pillow and puts it under your ass, elevating your lower half. You're about to ask him what he's doing, but soon lose your train of thought as he passionately kisses you. His lips move to your cheek, peppering kisses down to your neck, your chest, across your tummy, and down to your thighs. Laying on his stomach, he lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders. As his warm breath hovers over your core, you shyly ask him what he's doing. "Don't worry. Just lay back and relax. Let me do all the work. I'll make sure all the stress leaves your body by the time we're done." His reassuring words help you relax and you allow him to please you. He licks a stride up your folds, making you shiver. He spreads you open a bit more, giving him better access to eat you out. He leaves a kiss on your clit then circles his tongue over it. His tongue moves down to your hole, teasing your entrance. He wraps his lips around your clit and suckles, sending electricity up your body. You moan and comb your fingers through his hair, moving his fluffy hair out of his eyes. He moves his attention back down to your entrance, thrusting his tongue inside of you. While his tongue explores your insides, his nose rubs against your clit. His pace picks up as you get closer to your second orgasm. Your legs shake as your moans get louder, calling out his name. You finally cum on his face, where he happily licks up your juices. You push on his head when his continuous licking begins to overstimulate you, but he doesn't budge. He instead pushes a finger inside you as he sucks on your clit, shaking his head to add more stimulation. You curse as your hips shake.
It doesn't take you long to cum again, squirting on his face as you cry out from the pleasure. You breathe heavily as he comes up from between your legs. He leans over you and kisses you, pushing his tongue in your mouth and intertwining with yours You taste your essence on his tongue. He pulls away and gets up to pull his boxers off. Kneeling on the bed, he positions himself between your legs, making sure the pillow beneath you is still holding you up, elevating you at the right position for his cock to easy slip into you. He grabs his cock and fists it, covering it with the massage oil left on his hand. Holding your legs open, he rubs the head of his cock between your folds, prodding your entrance. He slowly eases himself inside you, his thick cock filling up your tight pussy. You both moan as he settles deep inside, all the way to the hilt. Slowly pulling his cock out to the tip, he pushes it back inside you all the way. He repeats this, going at a slow pace as he watches his cock disappear inside you. His gaze moves to your face as he begins to quicken his pace, watching the pleasure contort your features. "Faster Wrio." You moan out.
"As you wish." He puts your legs on his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your thighs, holding your legs against him. He thrusts into you at a quickened pace, pelvis hitting against your ass. The new position makes it easier for him to repeatedly hit your most sensitive spot. Your head falls back as you grip the sheets, cursing from the mind-breaking pleasure as his cock repeatedly hits your cervix. You cry his name as you cum, body twitching and shaking.
His pace doesn't let up though and he continues pounding into you. You become overstimulated again, but you can't help yourself from wanting more. "Cum in me Wrio." You're barely able to let out those words as your brain becomes clouded with pleasure as you near your next orgasm. But he heard you. He's getting close as well, due to your walls continuously spasming around his cock. He lets your legs go and wraps them around his hips. Wrapping an arm around you and holding you close, he uses his free hand to vigorously rub your clit as he continues to rut into you. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding tightly, in search of finding something to hold onto as the pleasure becomes too much. You gaze into each other's eyes as you both get closer to falling over the edge. You lean into one another, lips meeting for a passionate kiss. You finally cum, squirting on his cock which causes him to follow as well. His cock spurts thick ropes of cum into you, filling you up with his warm seed. He falls beside you as you both try to catch your breaths. You both just lay there, holding each other as you come down from your highs.
Wriothesley eventually pulls his cock out and lays beside you, pulling you close to him. You hear the fast beating of his heart as you lay your head on his chest, eyes feeling heavy. "Thank you for the massage Wrio." You sleepily say. He kisses the top of your head. "I'm glad you liked it, my love. Let's get some food at our favorite place once we get some rest." You smile, giving a quiet 'mhm' in agreement, and nuzzle further into his chest. Soon, you fall asleep in your boyfriend's comforting arms.
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subbyalbedo · 8 months
Text
Kinktober Day 1 - DACRYPHILIA with Giyu Tomioka
Warnings: smut, cursing, dacryphilia, anal, overstimulation, kinda mean sadist reader, dom!reader x sub!giyu, giyu is called a toy, he really would look so pretty crying, i felt kinda unmotivated for this one compared to my other kinktober posts lol
~~~
Giyu Tomioka would look so pretty crying.
The thought had been crossing your mind for the last few days, and you hadn't known what to do with it.
But here, with him pinned underneath you, you found the perfect excuse to bring him to tears.
Coming down from his high to see the look on your face, he already knew he had fucked up.
You made sure to look extra stern and upset, when inwardly, you were extremely happy for the excuse to be mean.
"Did you just cum without permission?"
He shrunk as you brought your knee between his legs and narrowed your eyes. "Y-yes but I'm sorry please I'm sorry I promise I-I'll listen next time!"
He really was so cute.
"Oh, baby," you cooed, bringing a hand up to his face. "I'll make you sorry."
His eyes widened and he gulped.
Bringing your hand down to his cock, you pumped it a few times before reaching to a box of toys you had stashed under your bed. You pulled out a vibrator, and turned it on to a medium setting before inching it into his previously stretched ass.
He immediately let out a low groan, back arching slightly off the bed as you continued to give him a leisurely handjob.
"Wh-hnn-what are you going to -hah- do?" Giyu asked, wide eyes staring up at you in fear as he shook at the stimulation.
"Well, since you wanted to cum so bad before, I'll let you cum over and over again. How does that sound?"
He winced at he felt himself getting closer, and he knew how painful this night was going to be. You had overstimulated him in the past, but he knew this time would be different. A lot worse.
His high was built up faster this time, and already he was close. Overstimulation was barely noticeable for now, so he tried to enjoy it.
He arched his back, a low moan coming out as he peaked. As cum shot out, you continued to stroke, and the overstimulation started to set in.
"N-ngh~ stop please" He whimpered, trying to regain his composure but failing. He was falling apart, but he knew this was just the beginning. He wasn't going to let himself break.
But you had other ideas.
Turning the vibrations up higher, he groaned, trying to escape the feelings. But with the vibrator in his hole, he couldn't get away from it.
You removed your hand from his cock, using both hands to pin his arms above his head as you held him down.
Looking into his eyes, you used your best 'disapointed dom' face. "Now, now. No more asking me to stop. Don't you remember why we're doing this in the first place?"
He barely heard your words, too lost in the pleasurable pain of the vibrations.
Slap.
His head turned to the side as his eyes widened, letting out a mix between a moan and a whine.
"Didn't you hear me?"
He shook his head tentatively, cheek starting to turn even redder.
"I said, 'don't you remember why we're doing this in the first place?'".
He glanced to the side, mumbling, "Cause it's my punishment."
"Ah, so you can listen. I thought dumb toys like you could only moan and hump things pathetically." As if cued, he moaned at your words. "If you were good, you wouldn't be getting this punishment. But you've been bad."
He shook his head quickly, or maybe that was because his whole body was shaking from the sensations. Precum was leaking from the tip, and he was getting close again.
"Please, I can be good! I just~" You quickly pushed two fingers into his mouth, shutting him up.
"Dumb toys like you don't speak. Just sit there and look pretty."
With that, your other hand was back on his cock, pumping it up and down quickly. He shut his eyes at the pain, letting sweet cries into your fingers as he sucked on them for the little bit of comfort he could manage.
As he peaked for the fourth time that night, that's when it happened.
When he came down, eyes opening, you saw they were shiny. You speeded up your hand, making him cry out even more, choking on your fingers, and that's when the first tear fell.
As you continued to hungrily watch the sight in front of you, you almost forgot to keep going.
Tears were slipping down his cheeks as he panted into your fingers, breath hitching at each particularly hard stroke, and his eye lashes were wet.
"Such a pretty boy, aren't you, baby?" You grinned at his reduced state, finally seeing him like this make you euphoric.
He nodded at your words not paying attention to anything but the feeling coursing through him. Until your next words make him pause.
"Since you look so pretty for me, we can stop after one more."
Speeding up your pace, he sobbed against your fingers, he couldn't take any more! He needed it to stop, he needed it to stop, and as he peaked for the last time, he let out a scream, tears continuing to drip from his lovely eyes and you watched the riveting scene.
Coming down, he found you cradling him from behind, stroking his hair.
He sighed, relaxing into you.
"You should cry more often."
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Sorryyyy this was kinda crappy for day 1 but I promise the other days are better
I hope you liked it!
Kinktober Masterlist Link
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cupid-styles · 8 months
Text
chiffon (grumpy!h)
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in which harry is still a grump, but now he has a soft spot for Y/N and wants to protect her at all costs.
word count: 3.5k
content warnings/author's notes: part two of grumpy h!! there will be one more (smutty) part of this series posted one week from today. CWs: one mention of sexual consent in a negative way, description of a bad sexual experience
part one | masterlist | talk to me
Y/N wakes up three hours later in her pitch black bedroom. 
She's instantly grateful when she realizes that the persistent migraine has now been demoted to a dull throbbing at her temples, a sign that it should fully fade away within the night.
For a moment, she forgets any of the day's events — that she attempted to go to classes today but stranded herself in Donnolly's office when she couldn't make it home. Even more embarrassingly, that Harry's the one that found her and took her home and— oh my God, she asked him to stay.
If she wasn't still in some sort of pain, Y/N would have shot up in bed and pressed an ear to her door to figure out if he was still here. She figures that that's less painful than going downstairs in a large tee-shirt and a pair of underwear, her preferred sleeping attire, to see if he had destroyed her home yet.
Maybe that's all this was, actually — just a really longwinded attempt for Harry to fully and finally ruin her life by catnapping Ginger or something.
She's deep in coming up with ways Harry could destroy her dwellings when there's a quiet knock on her bedroom door. Her eyes snap open and she croaks out an awkward, "...yeah?", revealing something she never thought she'd ever see in her home: Harry holding Ginger in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.
"Y'awake?" he asks as he slowly, hesitantly tip-toes inside. There aren't any lights on so it's hard for him to see anything, which Y/N is grateful for — she still has a pile of clean laundry to fold, with pink lacey underwear unfortunately at the top of the basket.
"Um, yeah. I just woke up actually." Y/N finally croaks out. Harry kneels down to let Ginger go and she immediately wanders over to her bed, jumping up to lay at her feet. 
"How are you doing?" 
"Alright, thanks. It's starting to go away."
"'S good."
Harry clears his throat at the awkward silence that overtakes, putting the ceramic plate down on her desk, "I ordered pizza, I wasn't sure if you'd be hungry when you woke up."
"Oh, thank you," Y/N replies, sitting up slightly and propping herself against the mess of pillows behind her. "Yeah, I've barely eaten in the past few days."
"Oh, here then." Harry murmurs, grabbing the plate and handing it to her. She accepts it gratefully, eager to take a bite.
"You can turn on that lamp for some light if you'd like."
"Do you want it on?" he questions, "Not sure if it'll bother you or... if you wanna see me, or whatever."
"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" 
"Because I made you cry."
Y/N shrugs between bites. "Everything makes me cry. It's stupid, like you said."
"I didn't say crying was stupid."
"Mm, you're right," she replies, "You called me pathetic and a church mouse."
Harry cringes as he shifts from foot to foot, awkwardly standing in the dark expanse of her room as she munches on pizza.
"That was really mean of me and I'm very sorry." 
Again, she shrugs, reaching the crust with a crunchy bite. "Okay."
He huffs as she finishes the slice. Everything about this girl should piss him off and, in hindsight, it does, but more than yelling at her, he wants to wrap her up in one of the million fuzzy blankets she has on her couch, press a kiss to her forehead, and protect her from everything that's ever made her sad.
"It's not okay, Y/N," Harry mutters. "Do you want another piece?"
"Yes, please. And turn the light on."
Silently, Harry obeys, flicking her lamp on before going back downstairs to retrieve another slice for her. This time, he pours her a glass of water too, figuring that she's thirsty since she didn't have that massive water bottle glued to her side today either.
"Thank you." she mumbles, taking big gulps of water and balancing the plate on her thigh. Harry notices that she still looks exhausted, but she's talking more now, and she's back to having the smidgen of attitude he's only ever seen her have with him. A large, tattered tee-shirt covers her form while her legs are left bare, bits of her thigh peaking out from where her blanket doesn't reach. He swallows, mentally rolling his eyes at himself for getting so jumbled over a sliver of skin.
"You said this migraine was triggered by stress." Harry says as he sits by the edge of her bed, gently stroking Ginger's fur. 
"Yeah. They happen a few times a year. I can be kinda bad at managing my emotions and stress and all that."
"What was so bad about it this time?" he asks, "Was it the TA position or are classes especially busy?"
Y/N swallows and bites her lip, glancing down to pick at a thread from her duvet cover. "Yeah, it was the TA position."
"What about it? I can take more of the workload from you if it's too much. We don't have to tell Donnolly about it."
"It wasn't... the workload, Harry," she mutters, keeping her gaze low, "It was you. I spent the weekend trying to figure out if I should transfer out of this lecture and try to switch to a different one. You... hate me so much and I just... didn't want to be in the company of someone who feels that way so openly."
Harry's heart drops. He knows he hasn't given her much an inkling that he feels any different about her, aside from helping her get home today, but if only she knew how much he thought about her this weekend — that he didn't want to go out or hookup with anyone because her face was the only one that crossed his mind. Her silly platform shoes that she can hardly walk in when she's particularly tired after a lengthy stretch of grading, her fuzzy cardigans, her dumb pencil pouches and her favorite red pen that she always uses.
"I don't hate you, Y/N. I'm so sorry I made you think that."
Y/N's watery eyes gaze up at him and his heart constricts again. "You've been so mean to me, though."
"I know," Harry sighs, shaking his head, "I know I have. I didn't mean it. Any of it. You're not pathetic or stupid. Or a church mouse."
"Then why did you say those things?"
He presses his lips together and takes a deep breath. "Because I think you're actually very smart and sweet and pretty, and I can tell that you don't think very highly of yourself, and it bothered me. I wanted you to defend yourself to me and say that you're not any of those things. It pissed me off when you wouldn't... it pisses me off that you're not like any of the people I hang out with, and I still think you're so cool."
Y/N's jaw nearly drops at that, the thought of Harry thinking anything positive about her feeling like a bad joke. How very childish of him, and if was any other person sitting here telling her that, she would politely ask them to leave — but it's Harry, so instead, the thought makes her laugh. 
She's giggling and shaking her head, a big, toothy grin on her face. Harry's heart is pounding, and while her smile is so beautiful, it makes him nervous that she'd think this is funny.
"Why... are you laughing?"
"Because that's the silliest thing I've ever heard," Y/N guffaws, wiping away the moisture collecting in her tear ducts, "You're just so— you're silly, Harry, really. Big, grumpy Harry thinks I'm cool, so you decide to be mean to me instead of being my friend?"
Harry lets out a laugh, understanding now how absolutely foolish the whole scenario is. He shakes his head and covers his face with his hands as a warm flush flowers over his cheeks.
"Yeah, that's so fucking dumb." he admits, the small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes making an appearance from his wide smile.
And maybe it's from the lack of sleep, or the fact that she's feeling decent for the first time in days, or the pizza she scarfed down was just that good, but Y/N can't help but notice how pretty Harry looks when he smiles. And so she kneels on the bed, skin digging into the mattress, and reaches out to peel Harry's hands away from his face, gently placing his arms at his sides with a small smile.
Harry swallows loudly and Y/N swears he glances down at her lips for a split second. 
"Do you think we could be friends, Y/N?" 
She smiles wider, her shoulders relaxing. 
"Yeah. I would really like that."
. . .
The transition to friendship is nearly effortless. 
Harry realizes that he actually really adores hanging around Y/N, which is more of just a reminder of how awful he was to be so mean to her when they met. In the following weeks, they see each other twice a week at Donnolly's class. He'll typically bring her a coffee or a pastry and make sure she's drinking enough water, to which she'll shoot him a playful glare, showing off her massive 40-ounce water bottle. 
("It serves a double purpose, H, it's like a protective device, too!", she'd claimed when he asked about it. In response, he grumbled something about him being able to protect her far better, which makes her giggle and shake her head.)
Grading goes faster because they chat about anything and everything. Harry complains about his housemates, Y/N shows him cute pictures of Ginger, and sometimes, they'll grab dinner afterwards, which makes Harry feel especially thankful because it means he's spent more than half of his day with her. But no matter how many minutes or hours he spends in her presence, he's always left feeling warm and gooey inside, a dopey smile on his lips when they part.
It's gross. But Harry's lying if he says he doesn't love it.
It's a Friday afternoon when they're laying around in Y/N's living room. She's working on a critique for her advanced poetry class and Harry managed to convince her to let him come over a few hours ago—
"I really, really need to see Ginger, I bought her a new toy at the grocery store yesterday," he'd explained when he'd called her 20 minutes after waking up.
"You have to stop spoiling her! She's gonna like you more than me!"
"What's wrong with that?"
Y/N sighs and picks at the fuzzy threads of her pink throw blanket. "Fine, but can you please bring me a coffee?"
"I'm shocked you think I'd come over without one for you."
Harry's fairly good at letting Y/N work in peace. He'll thumb through his current read or play with Ginger while she does whatever she needs to do, but it's approaching 4 pm on a Friday, and he's growing determined to tear her away from her homework. 
"What are you doing tonight?" he asks from the carpeted floor, his back against the plushy blue fabric and Ginger perched on his stomach.
"Mm, probably gonna order sushi and watch a movie," Y/N murmurs, looking up at him from above the frames of her blue light glasses, "What bar are you planning on getting drunk at tonight?"
Harry grumbles and sits up, carefully removing Ginger and placing her on the floor. "Why do you assume those are my plans?"
Y/N smiles and shrugs, pulling her lavender cardigan up to cover her shoulder, "Isn't that what you do every weekend?"
"I guess so," he mumbles. "Don' wanna do that tonight, though. Can I hang out with you?"
With furrowed eyebrows, Y/N shuts her laptop and puts it on the coffee table. She purses her lips as she stretches her jean-clad lags out against the length of the couch. 
"Sure, but why would you want to do that?"
She doesn't miss the glare he shoots her as he traipses over to the sofa. He lifts her legs so there's room for him to sit down and quickly places them over his lap before she has the opportunity to blush at the physical contact.
"You're much more fun," Harry replies, "I'm craving sushi and I like the idea of cuddling up in your cozy lil' home with you. Is that okay?"
Y/N swallows, and Harry can tell by the way that her eyebrows are slightly drawn together, that she's processing, if not over-thinking. Softly, he taps her ankle once, a hum falling from her plush lips.
"It's alright if it's not. I know you like your alone time, Y/N." 
"No, no, it's fine," she rushes out as Ginger jumps up on the couch, making herself at home on Y/N's chest, "I just... you know."
"I know?"
"Yeah. You know."
"Mm, I think you lost me." 
She lets out a sigh as her knuckles carefully trace the top of Ginger's head. "I'm not used to people thinking I'm fun."
For a moment, Harry doesn't reply — not because he doesn't know how to, but because it feels like his heart has grown three sizes, just like in The Grinch. He doesn't want to overwhelm her with his feelings for her (that he thinks she's the coolest, most fun, sweetest girl he's ever come across), so he just squeezes her ankle and shakes his head.
"That's stupid," he murmurs, "You're so much fun. Don't think that you're not, okay?"
Y/N peeks up at him through her lashes and takes in the way that Harry's gaze is set on her, his eyebrows knitted together the way they do when he's focusing on reading or grading.
"Okay." she finally says.
"Good. Now, let's order some sushi and decide on a movie."
. . .
"Can I ask you a question?" 
Y/N glances up from her Philadelphia roll, chopsticks in hand, to see Harry staring intently at the TV and mid-chew. 
He does this often — there will be a comfortable lull in conversation and he'll say those words and ask something absolutely humiliating. Y/N swears he does it just because he likes to see her get nervous. Last time, he did it when they were in the middle of grading and asked what kind of porn she watched. The time before that, they had gotten dinner and were walking back to Harry's car when he wanted to know if she kicks Ginger out when she hooks up with someone.
And, like most things, because it's Harry, she doesn't actually get offended. She gasps and swats at him and hisses his name out, which always makes him cackle, and then gives some half-assed answer — "Harry! You don't need to know that!", or "Ginger has innocent eyes, stop it!". 
So this time, she can only wonder what's churning through that stupid boy brain of his. This time, they're not in public but instead in the confides of Y/N's home, which means literally anything could come out of his mouth right now.
"If you have to." Y/N eventually settles on, making him smirk.
"Are you a virgin?"
Y/N nearly chokes on the rice she was chewing. Sure, Harry was open about his previous sexual escapades, but he knows how shy she is. They've never actually broached the subject of her being physical with someone else, as they seemed to function on a don't-ask-don't-tell type of model.
She sets her chopsticks down and clears her throat, looking over to see Harry waiting patiently. "No," she finally answers, "I'm not a virgin."
"Hm."
He goes back to eating his sushi as if nothing awkward has happened and Y/N wants to yell at him. 
"What does 'hm' mean? Why did you wanna know?" she presses, because she's her, and she can rarely let anything go.
"Just curious, 's all," he replies with a shrug, "It doesn't mean anything. You know I'm not and I was wondering the same about you."
"Why? Because I'm an introvert?"
"No," Harry quickly shakes his head. He tends to get defensive whenever Y/N brings up her quiet personality, always reiterating that there's nothing wrong with her being timid. "I've just never seen you with anyone and I haven't heard of you going on dates or bringing people back to your place. I didn't know if there was something... blocking you from that."
"Not exactly." Y/N mutters as she stabs another piece of sushi with her chopsticks, bringing it up to her mouth.
"What do you mean?"
"Um... I mean, I'm not a virgin, but I also haven't had sex in like, five years. So."
"That's fine, Y/N," Harry replies easily, sitting back against the couch cushions, "That's not a bad thing at all."
Y/N takes a deep breath. "It's not really... it's not because I haven't wanted to, though." 
Her face is on fire now, nerves seeping into her bones as she thinks back to her college years. She's never opened about this to anyone besides a therapist she saw for a few weeks last summer, and even she didn't have anything productive to say.
"You can tell me anything," he says quietly, setting his sushi tray down on the coffee table to shift his posture to face her. "No judgement, you know that."
"It's not about being judged. It's embarrassing, Harry."
He nods his head, a wordless gesture of encouragement. She rolls her lips into her mouth and fists the blanket atop her lap, shutting her eyes.
"There was this guy when I was a sophomore in college. He lived in the same building as me and he was really nice... would always, like, hold the door open for me and make small talk when we were in the elevator. You know it's tough for me to find friends and feel comfortable around people so... I appreciated it, y'know? Anyway, after a few weeks of that, just like, friendly communication, he asks me out on a date. I was really excited because I'd never had someone interested in me romantically before. Or, at least, not enough to ask me out. So we went on a couple of dates and things seemed to be going really well, and we kissed and made out a few times, and then maybe a two or so months later, he asks me if I wanna come hang out in his room."
Harry's breath hitches and she looks up at him. "It's... it was all consensual, just so you know," she quickly clarifies and he nods, his body relaxing slightly. "Long story short, I guess, we slept together. That was my first time. It was fine, it didn't hurt too bad and he treated me pretty well. He went to go shower afterwards and... I was sitting in his bed, getting dressed when I saw he left his phone on his nightstand, and his friends were texting him... I thought maybe they were trying to make plans for the night or looking for him— I know I shouldn't have read them, but I saw my name, and... they, um, made a bet. To see if he could sleep with me. And if he didn't do it within three months of our first date, he'd owe them $100."
"Oh, Y/N," Harry gasps, surging across the length of the couch before she even realizes moisture has built up in her eyes. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his chest, hugging her tightly as the tears flow steadily, a choked sob sounding from her body. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, baby."
He repeats his apologies until Y/N finally stops crying. Neither of them know how long it's been, but when she breaks apart from the crook of his neck, she realizes she's basically seated in his lap, his strong legs serving as a spot for her to rest. He keeps his arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders, his eyes searching for hers.
"Y/N, I need to tell you something," Harry says softly, his thumb finding her chin so he can look at her tear-streaked face. "I know I was awful to you when we met. I'll never forgive myself for that. But please believe me when I say I will stick around for as long as you'll have me, and I'll always protect you. I will never let anyone hurt you that way ever again. Okay? Do you believe me?"
A month ago, Y/N would have laughed in his face. 
Today, Y/N nods without a second thought. It doesn't take 20 seconds of thinking to know that she trusts Harry implicitly, and she tears up again at the thought of finally resting because he's watching over her.
Read part three here! :)
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snailsrneat · 1 month
Text
Yandere Vil Schoenheit Headcanons
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
TW: Kidnapping, Stalking, Posioning
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I think if anyone got literally any of the overblot boys as their yandere they'd be pretty fucked.
Mostly because the overblot boys hold a lot of power and have tons of magic.
Vil, specifically, however is one of the few who won't ever use his magic on you.
No instead he'll just use potions on you (:
When you two first met, it wasn't exactly love first sight, more like first word.
Cause when he saw you, he wasn't impressed.
'This is the prefect everyone's been so obsessed over? Really?'
He honestly thought that you'd be more impressive, more magnificent and elegant if you will.
His first impression of you however immediately changed when you had begun barking orders at fellow freshman in an attempt to defeat him.
Never once has he seen a freshman, one as weak you, calling the shots amongst the student body.
Something must be different with you. And he had to figure out what.
From then onward he recruits Rook to spy on you and learn what your day-to-day patterns are like.
In the process Rook also listens in and learns all your secrets. All of which he reports to Vil.
The Vil learns about you the more he falls in love with you.
He obsesses over every single detail of you, from little moles in unseen places to the formation of stress wrinkles crowding over your forehead.
Every minute detail that he can find, he wants pepper with kisses and tell you just how weak in the knees you make him.
A part if him feels silly for getting weak for someone as mediocre as you, but the other half of him wants to steal you away and lock you in his bedroom so you never have to be troubled by those horrible boys you call "Friends".
In fact...that's a fantastic idea! Why hasn't he thought of this before? That way he can watch you up close.
No longer will he need Rook to do all his stalking, not when you're already here and so close.
When he kidnaps you he does it under the guise of you try a new tea blend he was given. But, unfortunately for you, the tea just so happens to be spiked.
"Oh no! I'm so sorry dear, I didn't think one of my own fans would try to spike my tea! Here let me help you get to the infirmary~"
He's an actor so he's very good at being melodramatic.
Instead of waking up in the infirmary, you wake up his bedroom, with your arms chained to the bed posts and dressed in expensive satin pajamas.
When Vil comes into the room and notices your struggling, he chides you for bruising you beautiful skin.
He doesn't release you from the chains, but he does his best to keep you comfortable.
"Only the best for you, darling. You shouldn't worry yourself with such needless things. What you should be thinking of is me, and only me. Understand?"
If you ever try to escape, don't.
I'm warning you, if Vil catches you trying to escape it'll be worse than just staying chained to his bed all day.
It's even more terrible if you've been getting "closer" with him recently, because now he knows that he shouldn't trust you fully. Ever.
If he catches you, he'll no longer allow you to be comfortable.
Instead of that nice comfortable bed, you sleep in a dog cage in the corner of his room.
And the days have started to blur together now, he started poisoning your food to make sure you don't do anything.
Most days your too tired to anything, let alone fight back or come up with escape plans.
If he has to start treating you like a baby he doesn't mind, he likes making you depend entirely on him.
"You know you did this to yourself, right? Trying to escape was a foolish endeavor and you must face the consequences of your actions..aw, you're crying darling. Don't cry, it'll give you wrinkles. Don't worry my love, this hurts me more than it hurts you. Now drink this."
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mistyresolve · 1 year
Text
| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 1)
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Word Count - 3k 
Summary - Doc (y/n) is a medic at a base camp when they meet Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley, when they meet for a second time it is because he’s been injured. During the two weeks it takes him to fully recover they develop an unspoken friendship. Simon’s next assignment is to escort a convoy across enemy lines, which would have been a walk in the park if they weren’t a part of that convoy. Even worse is when his worries and fears become real. 
Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Trauma, Opioids (they’re prescribed but i just want to add this in case), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut  
A/N -  im working on part 2 rn but it may take a little time for me to finish and upload but im in the middle of finals and have been busy with studying so please forgive me  
Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form
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The first time Ghost came through your tent he was bringing in his comrade, Soap, for medical attention. It was a gunshot to the arm but nothing detrimental. A clean shot and the bullet had gone right through.
Ghost had remained quiet and observant but answered any questions you had about the wound. 
“When did this happen?” 
“Half an hour ago. Give or take.”  
“Any meds?” 
“Shot of adrenalin.” 
You had sewen up the gunshot and nursed Soap back to health. However, Mr.MacTavish had been a difficult patient and after a week you discharged him early just to get him out of your hair. On multiple occasions you caught him trying to escape, claiming he was fine and ready for combat at least once a day. Most special ops were deluded like that, most thought they were superhumans. In a way, they kind of were with the speed at which they recovered. You would never tell them that. It would just go to their head.   
Your tent has since been upgraded to a deployable field hospital. With a total of 50 beds and 15 staff members. 
The second time Ghost made his way your way was on a stretcher. It was a deep and disturbing stab wound to his side, and if it were even an inch deeper it would have punctured his lung. It took you the whole two weeks he needed for recovery to get the full story out of him. Apparently, it was a series of unfortunate events which resulted in a hand-to-hand scrabble. He’d dominated his opponent and came out victorious but not without injury. He’d been all on his own for hours before finally making it to Exfil. In those few hours, he lost a lot of blood and was without any sort of analgesic until he was in the helicopter on his way here. Whatever the field medic had given him for the pain was enough to completely incapacitate the beast of a man. All the same, it was doing its job and controlling the pain. Your team had to do an emergency surgery at the base camp because he wasn’t stable enough for a medivac to a major hospital. 
The man was in a foul mood when he awoke the next day. He wasn’t rude and uncivilized, but he made it clear the last place he wanted to be was bedbound in a field hospital. When it was mentioned he was going to be sent back home for recovery, he downright refused.  
Strangely enough, it was also the first time you saw his entire face. When he first came in you were so amped on adrenalin and stressed that you didn’t register that his mask had been removed. It was immediately established that no other personnel apart from the small 3-man team already working on him would be allowed to interact with him to ensure his identity remained confidential. It was more for their safety than his if everyone was being candid. Even in his charts any identifiers were redacted and replaced with “John Doe”. 
Two days post-op he insisted he be relocated to his barracks because he “could handle his own”. You compromised and told him you’d allow it under the one condition that he lets you come and check on him at least once a day. He did, but he didn’t exactly have a choice either because you would have shown up anyway. 
That was where you were right now. 
You knocked and waited for a response before letting yourself in, your supplies and kit in hand. It was just after noon when you arrived. You scanned his room. It was clean, almost barren. His blinds were half open, and the window cracked to let in the cool, fresh air. The clothes he was wearing when he came wounded were still in the biohazard bag we gave him when he left. The tray of food on the desk beside his bed was left untouched, and judging by the food variety it was from breakfast. 
Upon hearing your arrival Ghost had forced himself into a sitting position. His face flushed with the change of position. His dark eyes were rimmed red from a lack of sleep, and his facial hair was growing. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants with the insignia of his old company and a plain black shirt. The shirt was loose and thin, but it did nothing to hide the muscle hiding underneath.   
You rolled your eyes, blew out a breath, tossed your bag onto the bed beside him and pulled out the rolling chair at his desk to sit in front of him. 
“You look like shit,” you knocked his elbow in a silent demand to lift his arm. 
He grimaced but did it without complaint, “Ya, well I feel like shit.” 
You lifted his shirt to get a look at the bandage underneath. There wasn’t any shadowing or blood seeping through so you gave him a quick nod before dropping the shirt, “Have you taken anything?” 
He jerked his chin to the little orange bottle on his desk, “One of those.” 
You picked it up to read the label, Oxycodone 10 mg OD.  
“Nice, but you should be taking it with food,” you tilted your head in the direction of the untouched food. He merely shrugged, his eyes weary. His eyes turned the same golden brown of a whiskey glass in the sunlight.  
You discreetly took his respiratory rate before moving on, “Any side effects? Nausea? Headache? Upset stomach?”  
“Nope,” he said in exasperation. He leaned back onto his elbows, his long body stretching out across the width of the bed with his legs still hung over the side in preparation for you to change his dressings. 
You gave him an unimpressed look, before pointing to the garbage bin he had at his bedside. There wasn’t anything in it but it was placed here in preparation,  “If you aren’t going to be compliant I’m going to bring you back to the infirmary.”   
“It came and went already. I’m fine,” he moved to lift his shirt, hinting at you to hurry up get the dressing change done and leave. 
You scooted the chair closer, preparing your materials and supplies on his bedside table. When you removed the bandage and revealed the stitches you clicked your tongue, he hadn’t pulled any of them but the fact that it was still bleeding made it apparent he’d been more active than he should have been. 
“How’s it lookin’ down there, Doc?” He rolled, his gaze following your movements with predatory grace. You glowered at the nickname. 
You hummed, “Mhm.” and started cleansing the wound with saline before donning gloves and cleaning it more thoroughly. He hissed at the contact and you looked up, he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. His body tensed, and his muscles taut. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Alluring even. Especially when he was in this position, and had that look on his face.  
“Are you going to survive?” You asked pulling back slightly.
“Just cold s’all.” 
He made it through the rest of the dressing change without so much as a flinch. In fact, he might have fallen asleep near the end for a second. He didn’t open his eyes until you finished securing the gauze with the last piece of tape. His lids were heavy and his mouth was pulled down into a slight frown. 
“You going to eat lunch?” you tugged off your gloves and threw them into the bin beside you. 
He nodded sluggishly and laid back on the bed, folding his hands over his abdomen. Maybe the Oxycodone was making him drowsy, but he looked like he desperately needed rest. 
“Did you sleep well last night?” You rolled back on the chair, giving him space. He shook his head. You quickly finished cleaning up any remaining supplies or trash before filling out his chart, “Maybe if you didn’t keep reopening your wound you’d be healing faster and sleep better.”     
He replied with a quiet, almost boyish chuckle, “I’ve been behaving, don’t worry.” 
“You’ve been nothing but extra paperwork,” you retort, tapping his leg with your foot. You stood with a snap of your notebook. “What do you want to drink with your lunch?” 
“Just water,” his eyes remained closed and you made your way for the door, bringing his cold breakfast with you. 
You returned with a new tray of food, this time you picked foods that would be easy on the stomach. The damn fool must have smelt it as you walked down the hall with it because before you could knock he was opening the door and stepping aside to let you in. 
“Such a gentleman,” you tapped his shoulder as you passed. 
He seemed to perk up at the brief contact, “As always.” 
You placed his tray on the table before picking up your bag to get ready to leave for the day, “Any last request?” When you turned to face him your cheeks heated at the way he regarded you. His face softened, melting into something akin to respect. He was so expressive and you didn’t think he was aware. Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to the protection of his mask. You almost didn’t wait for his answer before taking your leave, making an excuse that you needed to report back. You did, but it wasn’t anything urgent, you just needed to get out of his room. Away from him. If only to remember how to breathe. 
The process for the following two weeks was the same, only each day you stayed a little longer. You talked a little more. Despite his reputation, he was… normal. He was a little aloof and standoffish at times, and horribly, criminally unfunny, but he grew on you. You were slightly upset and maybe even a little scared you’d never see him again when you officially discharged him. Even worse, you were scared to see him again. Only, every time he returned from a mission he would come to pay you a visit. You might have considered calling him a friend. Might have considered wanting more from him.  
Soap would sometimes occupy Simon, having made a connection with you of his own. A different type of connection, but a wholesome one. Soap had made a jest about just recruiting you as the 141’s personal field medic instead of bothering you at work every other week. Simon had shot the idea down like water on a fire, and the topic was never brought up again. He simply stated, “Never letting that happen.” 
He had his reservations about you entering an active warzone, let alone going on assignments with a squad like the 141. He’s never outright said it but he developed a soft spot for you. Over the months he had unintentionally carved a hole in his chest just for you; a place where he could protect and watch over you. His fondness for you only made it all the harder when he received the 141’s next assignment. It was a regular convoy escort but he felt sick when he read your name on the list. He even went so far as to double-check the itinerary with Captain Price. Went so far as to try and get you removed from the assignment. When you learnt of what he was doing you cornered him and chewed his head off. You understood his trepidations and his actions, but both of you knew he was out of line when he tried getting you booted from the mission. 
The convoy, mainly consisting of medical personnel, equipment, and supplies, would be moving right through enemy lines to get from your current base to a new one a few towns over. It would be dangerous, you weren’t naive, but you were your own person. You were simmering, but you couldn’t help the twinge of regret for yelling at him. 
In the days leading up to the mission Simon had grown distant, but remained watchful of you. He kept quiet, but you could see it in the shadow of his eyes, and in the muscles between his shoulders that he had a lot to say. 
There was a total of 5 medical personnel that were being transported, yourself included. You would be a vehicle with Butters, who was elected as the head medic for the new base, and your driver was going to be none other than Captain Price. 
As everyone was preparing to leave and loading up the last supplies, you caught Price and Simon in a quiet conversation, you couldn’t hear their exchange but you could tell it was heated. Price rolled back on his feet, fixing Simon with a tight-lipped smile before shaking his head. With that Simon backed away from him, pointed a finger at him saying one last thing before he turned and stalked towards the vehicle he would be in, obviously unsatisfied with Prices’ response.   
Butters sidled up next to you, his pack slung over his arm and offering you yours in his other hand, “There has been a slight change of plans,” he sighed, “Our voyage is now split into two days, we'll be staying overnight in a town in between. Our route hasn’t been completely cleared yet.” 
You turned your attention to him, your brows furrowing, “So they want us to have a sleepover behind enemy lines?” You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. 
Butters shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the turn of events. Butters always seemed to keep his thoughts and feelings close to his chest, but it was clear very little invoked thoughts and emotions out of him. He enlisted when he was 18 years old; he was 32 now with a wife, 3 kids, and another on the way. There was a high probability he would be asking for leave in the next couple of months so he could be there for his next child's birth. It sucked because he was the only other medic you were close with. You’d miss him. 
Butters and you jumped into the back seats of one car with Price, you’d be in the middle of the convoy, Ghost, Soap, and another medic in the other would take the rear, and Gaz and Roach would be in another vehicle at the front. There was also a total of five transport trucks. The convoy would be a giant target as we passed through, which is why the 141 was tasked with our protection.   
Price explained that the ride would be slow-moving and briefed the two of you on what to expect. He instructed you both to stay alert and that there was a chance of running into a hostile.   
The first couple hours were incredibly boring, but Butters alleviated some of it by tasking you with going over the manifestation of everything you guys were hauling with you. You also made conversation with Price about his last leave, he had returned home and “sat on the patio and smoked cigars” for two weeks.
 The sound was louder than anything you ever experienced in your life. You didn’t even have time to scream before the force of the detonation knocked you unconscious. 
It couldn’t have been longer than a couple of minutes when you finally regained consciousness. The vehicle was now completely upside down, the wheels still spinning as they faced the sky. The seatbelt was the only thing keeping you from landing face-first into shattered glass and rubble. 
In front of you, Price was already pulling himself out the window and onto the street. He looked back into the cab and for you and said something. 
Nothing was processing right. Not his words. Not your thoughts. Not the sight before you. Everything was foggy, as if it was a dream. 
Price reached back for you, bracing you with an arm before releasing your seatbelt. Your knees cracked as they hit the roof, the glass ripping through your uniform. The pain didn’t even register. Price hauled you out with him before going back in for Butters. 
Only he didn’t. 
Instead, he returned with his gun. Before he could stop you, you crawled back in for Butters to get him yourself. 
You froze. There was no saving him. There was almost nothing left. 
He was on the same side the anti-vehicle mine went off. 
You slowly backed out, shaking your head not believing your own eyes. 
Price was crouched beside you, his back to the vehicle, his eyes revealed no emotion. 
You looked back down the road you had just come down and the transport truck that was tailing you had stopped before entering the intersection. Beside them was the truck that Ghost and Soap were in. Ghost was jumping out, his gun drawn. Soap slid from the passenger seat to the driver's side. The medic they were escorting jumped out the back and ran for the transport truck. 
It was then you noticed that Price was shooting at something down the intersection. You could see the flash as the bullets left the barrel and smell the gunpowder, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything. 
You brushed your fingers to your ear and when you looked at them they came away red. Blood.
The sheer force of the blast ruptured your eardrums. 
You watched as Ghost applied suppressing fire and sidestepped in time with the truck as Soap rolled it into the intersection.
Price looked over his shoulder at you, his mouth moving. You could see it in his eyes the moment he connected the dots and caught that you couldn’t hear he turned to Ghost. Who jerked his head towards you and met your gaze. His eyes were wide, panicked. He ditched the cover of the truck and sprinted over while Price took over the covering fire. He slid into you, his gloved finger coming up to grab the sides of your face. He was gentle but urgent as he turned your head from side to side to inspect the damage. 
You caught your reflection in one of the side mirrors, and couldn't recognize the person staring back at you. Their expression cataonic. Blood leaked out their ears, down their neck, and blood dripped out of their nose. Their teeth had gone through their bottom lip from the impact of the blast.  
A low ringing began as sounds started to come back to you. Then it turned into an agonizing peal like you had stuck your head in a fire alarm. Ghost didn’t give you a chance to cover your ears because he was already pulling you into his chest, pressing one ear into his chest, and covering the other with his free hand. Using his remaining hand he raised his gun and pulled the trigger. 
Soap pulled their truck up next to yours, making a barricade with them. He slid out, being careful to keep his head down and ready to join the fight. 
Ghost started walking back towards the buildings behind, using his body to shield you from stray bullets. He smelt of gunpowder, sweat, and dust. He smelt familiar. His hard body against yours felt familiar. You felt the reverberation of his voice in his chest as he yelled something. You stumbled back with him as he moved, but he was practically carrying you at this point so you wouldn’t fall. His gun dangled at his hip. Soap was at the door to the nearest building, kicking the door open, the lock shattering. 
The ringing in your ears was still present but you make out their muffled yelling as the rest of them filed in. Ghost sat you down at the far wall and behind rows of shelving units. Price and Soap guarded the entrance.
Price started talking into his radio, “Gaz! We got enemy fire coming from southwest of the fire hall. We’re down one and another has been wounded. We are fresh out of wheels, they planted fucking mines,” he yelled into his radio over the sound of oncoming and outgoing gunshots.  
“We’re on our way,” Gaz’s voice replied through the Ghost radio that was attached to his shoulder.  
Ghost then knelt back down in front of you and swore. His hands shook as he reached for a rectangular pack at his hip, a little red insignia printed on the front. A med-pack. He dumped its contents onto the floor, rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for. 
He lifted your leg and started wrapping your thigh, but not before you saw what he was swearing at. There was a two-inch gash in your leg exposing raw flesh and muscle underneath. 
“That’s not good,” you breathed. It felt like your throat was torn to shreds; as if you had inhaled the explosion itself. 
“You’re fine,” he didn’t look up as he wrapped. It was tight enough that it hurt and you could feel your heartbeat crashing against the pressure. Despite that, the bandage wasn’t going to last.
You choked a laugh, “You might want to get out your, ‘I told you so’s’ while you still can,” You meant for it to come off as nonchalant but your voice quivered. 
“You’re fine,” he repeated. 
“I left a kit in the back seat,” You sucked in a sharp breath when he pulled the gauze one last time to tie a knot, “I don’t know if it survived though.” 
Because it was right next to Butters before the mine tore through the side SUV he was on.
Before I could say another word, Ghost was moving towards the door. Requested for an update, then asked for covering fire before exiting the door. He returned moments later with the kit. When he brought it over he made sure to place it behind him so you couldn’t see the condition of it. You imagined it to be macabre. 
As the adrenalin pumping through your body drained it began to tremble, cold rushing into your bones. Blood was already starting to dot the surface of the bandage. 
“Powder,” You instructed Ghost. He moved fast, cutting the bandage away with the blade he pulled from its sheath at his thigh, and tearing open the packaging. It was a quick-clotting powder used to stop the bleeding. 
You were no doubt in shock because you couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He rewrapped your leg; somehow, it was even tighter than before. You heard Gaz give an update over the radio, asking for more details and you could hear Price relaying the plan. 
Your breaths became shallow and sedated, your strength ebbing away. You fought the urge to close your eyes in fear of never opening them again. 
Ghost tapped a hand on your cheek, “Don’t be falling asleep on me, now Doc.” 
You were barely able to ground out a “Sir, yes, sir,” before your chin hit the front of your chest and succumbed to the darkness pulling at you.
Part 2 
Masterlist  ❤︎ 
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20doozers · 1 month
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★Wet dream★
TW: handjob, whining, whimpering, getting caught masturbating, slight somnophilia, sleepover with bill, dry orgasm, “milking” bill, bath as aftercare, overstimulation, fwb/just friends trope, use of y/n, use of sweetheart, baby, etc.
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You were at bill’s place for a sleepover, his parents were out of town and his twin brother Tom was staying at a friends place, meaning you and bill had the house all to yourselves. Candy, movies, snacks, cuddles, etc. the night being filled with giggles and fun, the friendship bond between you two being the only focus of the night besides fun.
Eventually you two winded down, laying in bed and turning on a movie that bill was watching while you laid next to him, slowly falling asleep because you were tired. After you had fallen asleep bill was just admiring you, staring at your sleeping face as you slept peacefully. You were so beautiful. Those lips, those eyes, that skin… gosh, he just wanted to kiss you. But he couldn’t, you two were just friends, nothing more than that, or at least that’s what bill was telling himself.
When he was pulled out of his thoughts he looked down, seeing the tent in his pajama pants along with a small wet splotch of precum due to his lack of boxers beneath his pajamas. Fuck. He sat there silently, debating on whether he should go to the bathroom and quickly get rid of the problem.. but oh, you were so peaceful, and getting up would surely wake you.. He sighed, palming himself lightly through his pajama pants, biting his lips to muffle his moans and whimpers as he tried to quietly rub one out.
Yet that stimulation wasn’t enough, not to mention he was basically ruining his pajama pants. His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he slowly pulled down his pajama pants just enough to pull out his cock, wrapping his pale fingers around his shaft, slowly pumping himself as he whined and moaned, his noises being muffled slightly as he bit his lip.
He was so close, his moans becoming more guttural as his head rolled back slightly, his moans becoming harder and harder to hold back as he jerked off, his hand and shaft slick with precum as he continued. Yet he was shocked when he felt your hand on his wrist, his movements halting immediately as his head shot in your direction.
You laid there almost half asleep as you pulled his hand away from his cock, wrapping your own hand around his member as you very slowly pumped him.
“Y/n… w- what are you doing..?” Bill whimpered, still trying to hold back his moans.
“You seemed like you could use some help, so I’m helping.” You hummed, acting like this behavior was normal as you jerked him off.
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“H-hah.. y/nn.. please.. ‘s too much…” Bill whined, laid on his back as you pumped his cock in your hand, milking him with every amount of strength you had. He had came at least 3? 4? 5? You weren’t keeping count, and neither was he, hell he was unable to with how clouded his mind was. There were drips of drool of his chin, tears clouding his eyes, and his cock was covered in cum, so was your hand as you slowly drove him insane with the overstimulation.
“Shh.. you’re okay baby.. one more, just give me one more sweetheart..” you soothed, your hand nothing speeding up as you pumped his member faster and faster, brushing over the tip of his cock with your thumb.
Bill’s 6th and final orgasm came and went, washing over the poor boy as he let out small cries and moans of ‘ow’ and your name. You slowly worked him through his orgasm, softly shushing him as the afterglow of post nut clarity washed over him. His last orgasm had been completely dry, no cum following his orgasm from how many times he had came, his body now trembling as you got up to go get a washcloth and to clean him up.
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“Are you okay sweetheart? Did I go to far?” You questioned soflty, his pale body mostly limp in your arms as he trembled, letting you gently lay him in the bathtub which was filled with warm water. He didn’t respond, just giving a small whimper as he shook his head, still overstimulated from the intensity of it all.
You gently kissed his forehead, combing your fingers through his sweat dampened hair as he lay there trembling in the warm bath water. You sat by his side the entire time, even helping him wash his hair and body due to his weakness before helping him out of the bath, draping a warm fluffy towel over him. You helped him dry off and change into some pajamas before helping him into bed as well.
You gently pulled his still trembling body against yours, shushing him quietly as you rubbed his back, his small whines and whimpers being muffled as he hid his face in the crook of your neck.
“You comfy baby?”
“Y-yeah… just a bit cold..” bill murmured, his body shivering as you kissed his head. You reached off to the side to turn on the heating blanket draped over his bed, turning it on so he could be warmer.
“That better?” You questioned softly, bill murmured a quiet ‘mhm’ before yawning, cuddling further into you as you two laid there.
Maybe you two were more than “just friends”.
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AHH! I’m pretty happy with this one, it’s a gn!reader fic and my second smut ive written. Yes I reused the top images i couldn’t find more😔 love you guys💕💕
Tags: @itsmealaiah @madzandmore @cherry-rawr @jkloserdazai @goreishgorinthgoreofshits
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noiryinn · 2 months
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for you, i’ll make an exception
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pairing(s): sick!nagi seishiro x germaphobic!male reader
summary: nagi gets a fever, even though you’re deathly afraid of the possibility of getting sick, you decide to suck it up and help nagi.
warnings: bit of internalized homophobia (not a lot, just hesitating to kiss nagi cause he’s a boy)
a/n: first tumblr post, hope it's good! i love the sickfic trope, so i decided to do it for my first post. also, i didn’t proof read this so sorry if it’s bad. enjoy :))
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you started noticing that nagi has been sluggish lately, really sluggish, like more than usual. it's to the point where it has you worried. you were thinking of the possibilities of this newfound sluggishness, you didn't like to think it, but what if he was sick? the thought made you squeamish, what if you got sick too? it made your mind race.
when class ended, you decided to approach him. "hey, nagi?" you asked. "hmm?" nagi replied lazily. "are you, uh, good?"you waited for his response, but it looked like he could barely keep his eyes open. "...tired" he responded before yawning. "guess you always are..." you muttered. "are you sure there's nothing wrong?" you decided to take another shot. "yeah, i guess. think i might have a fever though..." you just stared at him. your worst fears just settled in. fever? that's even worse than a cold? you could get sick just by standing here! by even breathing near him! you were silently panicking before you took a look at nagi and realized that he was actually really unwell. something in your heart softened a bit, maybe youd make an exception for him…
the next day, nagi didn't show up. but why? was it the fever? or was he just too lazy to get out of bed? you decided to make a visit once school was over. the thought of helping him was a bit sickening…you washed your hands several times from the thought.
when the school day was over, you went over to his apartment. of course, prepared with hand sanitizer, a mask, and some gloves. you felt light headed from even touching the door. ‘i’m touching what a sick person touched…’ you thought several times over. you knocked, one, two, three times. no response…you thought of turning back and just forgetting about this. but the thought of nagi being sick changed your mind. you opened the door, then immediately put on hand sanitizer. it was cluttered, things were sprawled out on the floor, there was dust. all this was a nightmare, but you decided to keep on going, for nagi.
“nagi? hello? you in there?” it was only met with a dry cough. you started seriously regretting this…getting sick or helping nagi? what would it be? the thought made your head hurt. there were pros of helping out nagi than there were cons of getting sick…so that’s what you decided to do.
you walked in his room, holding the mask in your hand just in case. his room was just as messy as the outside. you’d definitely have a cleaning session with him. “l/n…?” nagi weakly called out. “yeah, it’s me. you good?” you said softly. “don’t feel well…can’t play games…” he sighed, he almost had a pouty look. it was adorable. you had a bit of sympathy for him. “cold…” nagi shivered a bit and he reached for your jacket. “hey! i might have to burn that now since you contaminated it!” you quickly wanted to take back what you said, it was kinda jerkish… “fine. you can have my jacket. just wash it, ‘kay?” you said reluctantly. “…’kay” then you lended him the jacket.
“smells like you…” he said before having a coughing fit. you wanted to jolt back, but something inside you just…didn’t. you felt a blush creep up your face. “huh? don’t say that sorta stuff, nagi! just rest up a bit and don’t talk…i’ll get you some soup.” you remarked. “fine by me…” nagi yawned again
you walked in with a bowl of soup and a cold compress. “cmon, sit up i got your soup” you sighed. “huh? but i don’t wanna get up…feed me…” he pouted. “seriously? you aren’t 5.” you rolled your eyes at this. but it was a bit adorable, in its own way. “help me sit up…” nagi looked at you. “uh…” you hesitated a bit…touching a sick person? and you just had to leave your gloves in the kitchen…but it was nagi…fine, you decided to settle on helping him. you took your hand out, before hesitating a bit, then held his hand to help him up.
“your hands are sweaty…” nagi bluntly stated. “oh shut up and let me help you” you snapped back softly. you held back the feeling to wash your hands. gross, gross, gross. your mouth felt dry and you felt yourself sweat a bit. you started feeding him the soup. “yum…you’re a good cook l/n” nagi ate the soup happily. “thanks, wasn’t anything special though…” you blushed a little.
there was a brief moment of silence, it was awkward and the only thing you could feel was your heart pounding. was it from the fear of getting sick? or was it him…? that was a stupid idea… you were stuck in your thoughts before nagi broke the silence. “i’m sorry i made you come here…i know you much you hate getting sick…” he said softly, you could tell he felt bad. “oh, uh, don’t worry ‘bout it. for you, i’ll make an exception.” you kept feeding him the soup.
after a bit you grabbed the cold compress, leaned forward and put it to his head. it was then you realized you two were pretty damn close. maybe if you leaned a bit more forward… no, it was wrong. he was sick, and you were both guys… but the urge was driving you crazy. you shook your head and went back to your senses.
nagi ate all the soup, which was surprising since he didn’t normally have the motivation to even eat at all. you were about to get up when you felt a hand tug at your shirt. “stay with me…” you blushed hard. ‘you can’t just keep playing with my feelings like this…’ you thought. “…fine” you said reluctantly before sitting down at his desk again. “in bed…” nagi muttered. “what?” you asked, what was he saying? “in bed, with me…” nagi muttered again. was he seriously saying what you thought he was saying? “you want me to lay in bed with you?” your face flushed all sorts of crimson. “mhm…” nagi nodded slowly. “first you want my jacket and now you want me to lay with you?” you put your hands on your hips. “yeah…will you not do it?” nagi looked up at you with a pouty expression. “I— uh— fine.” you gave in, you got in bed with him and pulled the covers over you two.
“warm…” you felt him cuddle up to you and lay on your chest. “hey—” you tried to protest, but then you realized he was already asleep. you chuckles and smiled softly. “good night, nagi. sweet dreams” you whispered before kissing his forehead.
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