#need to go to bed now... it's almost 3am :/
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anyways... I did half of 8 frames for my gomens animatic today... Crowley's done in those, I do gotta go back and add Azi tho but I have officially started with the proper sketches! Just a billion more to go now 🙃
#and then decide if i wanna shade them or just put a gradient over everything idk#probably shade them since i need Crowley to be in dark clothes for contrast (and for a few transitions)#ugh this is taking so fucking loooong#mostly because i've been doing actual paid work during the day#and then playing videogames to unwind#and i only start on my animatic at like 11pm lol#need to go to bed now... it's almost 3am :/#djghdkfg#angel talks#personal#i need to shut up#who fucking cares am i right? lol#angel's animatic journey#<- seriously block that tag dkfjgdfg
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#okay its almost 3am and I just finished arcane and#the way this show deals with grief is just#!!!#and i need to go to bed#its now past 3am and no coherent thoughts#besides sometimes grief is anger#and its all of them#grief is messy on all of them#delete later#maybe delete later
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Skyview temple
This is the background for my ghirahim drawing I promised a week ago. This background took at least 12 hours so it might as well be its own post
#this took soooo long#each brick and crack#dont get me started on trying to find references#i have link and ghirahim done#i did forget the goddess sword so ill need to add that and im gonna add like rem lighting n stuff#link and ghirahim took like 15 hours#god thats like almost 2 days#i should really be getting paid for this#im literally dieing#its 3am now i should go to bed#skywardsword#the legend of zelda#ghirahim#Skyview Temple#skyward sword link#ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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oops! *makes a waddle dee oc*
i dont know if i can justify (or explain??) her existence (narratively speaking) but the silliness was too powerful tonight
#yeah apparently I just wrote for almost three hours#it’s that kind of night ig#am i going to draw her or give her a name?? uhhh eventually maybe#because I will have to#but for now i just need to go to bed and hope that what i have is good#because i really don’t want to give this the queendom treatment and Put Way Too Much Effort In#but ive also added all the beats i wanted and gone over it a few times (and the cringe complex is still trying to get me)#oh well#that’s for future quinn (aka probably tomorrow at like 3am again)
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finished the prologue. screaming crying throwing up!!!!
#i told you i would start it tonight I Told You#but i finished my work first so i earned it ❤️#oh goddddddd#anyway this is vague bc i feel gross about posting potential spoilers less then three hours since the game released here lmao#and now i need to go to bed. it's almost 3am 🧍🏻♀️#ky posts text#kyra plays ac mirage
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having a great start to 2025 👍 got a migraine yesterday (wasn’t a terrible migraine bc it wasn’t so bad i had to throw up or anything but i DID sleep for 13 hrs after 😭) and then today i didn’t take my ritalin after also not taking it on tuesday & usually i’m fine when i do that but today it made me feel nauseous all day so i am 0/2 on feeling well in 2025 love that for me!
#michelle speaks#i feel ok now tho…..p much for the first time today & i still don’t feel totally fine 😭#anyway i got a migraine bc i kept going to sleep after 4am when i have been going to sleep usually before 3am lately#& then i didn’t get a lot of sleep yesterday bc i had to wake up early to work on my topic proposal for my comment#so i got even less sleep & was really tired so i got a migraine 😑 that is what i get for not getting good sleep. and i KNOW i get migraines#when i consistently go to bed too late and don’t get enough sleep and yet? i do it anyway 😩#but i finally settled on a topic that will hopefully be good yesterday so i am glad 👍 i have to finish my topic proposal tomorrow tho#i just have to finish the preemption check & list some sources i will use so. i am like 70% done rn.#i was maybe going to do some work on it today but as i said. slept for 13 hrs lmao 😭#which is 100% bc of the migraine bc i normally cannot sleep that long 😭 10 hrs at the most and i usually don’t sleep for 10 hrs now#i used to need 10 hrs when i was a teenager lol but i will usually naturally wake up after 8-9 hrs and i am fine w 7 hrs#i went to sleep at almost 2am and woke up at almost 3pm only bc my mom woke me up bc she thought i was dead 😭#but u r usually extremely tired after a migraine so i am not surprised abt that. bc otherwise i could not physically sleep that long lmfao
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I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.
#ive survived all nighters before ill scrape through the day itll just be Rough. at least i dont have much in my schedule#im not gonna take the dose this morning bc i think thats a really bad idea to do on zero hours sleep#and i can't risk two consecutive all nighters. like I have done that before but not while working full time 💀 its not worth it#drafting an email to my doctor to let her know im skipping day 2 + ask advice re. whether its worth resuming again on day 3#bc she did list 'trouble sleeping' as a common symptom that often passes but i need to know a) how long it usually takes to pass and-#b) if this is unusually bad + would she rec supplementing with a sleep aid or just switching tack entirely and trialling a non stimulant#by this stage of the night i dont think its actually acting anymore bc i took it at 7am and its now 3am. it shouldnt last that long#i think its more just triggered my preexisting insomnia. my ability to sleep is very very sensitive sometimes + hates routine changes#just so fucking frustrating bc ive spent the past 2 months nailing my sleep routine + ive had a couple weeks of being able to-#go to bed like 9:30-10 and it only takes an hour to get to sleep and i get usually a good 7 hours sometimes 8 only waking once halfway#and i dont feel like utter shit like yeah im tired but from work not so much lack of sleep.... and now thats all fucked lmao#whatever. maybe i should just take the next dose anyway#ill see. gonna try to sleep for another 2 hours but once it hits 5 im not doing this anymore ive been trying for six hours already man#i cant even remember when i last pulled a full all nighter. it might be longer than 6 months ago... i was doing so well :-(#im so mad i was so hopeful it would have SOME good effect like ik its not a miracle worker + these things take time but so many people-#seem to have an immediate positive response even if its probably a placebo. and i got fuck all except This.#i was searching on the reddit for sleep issues and other ppl only seem to report bad ones on higher doses or years in..#like damn. do i even have adhd then. ik thats a stupid thing to think bc obvs everyones body metabolises meds differently etc but still#it is ALMOST HALF 3 and i am FUCKING TIRED#UGH. alright bedtime round 189447383#.diaries#.vent
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Kinktober 11/10/2024 Oscar Piastri- Somnophilia
Plot: You and Oscar never have linked up sleep schedules so you’re often asleep when he comes home. And he just needs you so desperately…
Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, Somnophilia, p in v, sex while asleep, 18+ Minors DNI



You and Oscar never had linked up sleep schedules, it was awful. If you had jobs to do at home over a race weekend especially one out of your time zone Oscar would be coming home at 3am, when you were already asleep.
After Australia, Japan and China all being together and him not coming back to the UK and you being incredibly busy not being able to go to him. He was getting home at 3am, yet he wasn’t tired making the mistake of sleeping on his flight home from exhaustion from the race.
You were lying in bed, duvet torn off of you face smushed into the pillow, turned to the side. You had one leg cocked up and the other straight. Oscar walking quietly into the bedroom seeing this sight had him even more awake.
He gently placed his suitcase down not wanting to wake you up.
You were wearing the sleepwear that he found the sexiest and it was like you’d done that on purpose. It wasn’t anything skimpy like silk or lacy. It was a pair of white underwear that rested on your hips showing off your figure deliciously. And then a low cut cropped hoodie.
Everything just looked so … he couldn’t even describe it! But he wanted you so badly. It had been over three weeks since he’d gotten any kind of intimacy with you. You’d both had an unforgettable night before he’d left but since then you’d both been far to busy to relieve yourself.
Now that he was here with you, seeing you looking so soft and fuckable he couldn’t help himself when he felt himself strain against his tightening jeans.
He couldn’t help the way he stood onto next to you, running his hand down the drive of your spine before running down the outline of the underwear from your hip to your bum.
You’d both spoken about doing this before but you’d never actually got round to it, as you normally tried to force yourself to stay up to wait for him to come home or he’d be too exhausted to do anything by the time he was there.
But now was the perfect time, you were laying there all innocent and unassuming. This was his moment.
He took his jeans off, not wanting to make you wake up from him trying to awkwardly shuffle his jeans off when he was weighing down the bed and moving the mattress.
He takes both jeans and boxers off discarding them on the floor before climbing up into the bed behind you. He holds your hips testing the waters by rubbing his hands up and down a bit rougher before gripping either side, moving you so you were more on your stomach. As he straddled you, his hands grazed over your underwear on your lower back, giving it a testing snap, but you only stirred in the way Oscar was used to you stirring, one that he knew you wouldn’t wake from easily.
Through the fabric of your panties he gives a testing rub of your clit, and almost as if you knew he was there in your sleep and you knew what he wanted your hips arched in a way that gave him easier access. He get rubbing until he could feel a wet patch of your slick form through the white panties you were wearing. If only you were wearing grey right now and it was more visible, he’d be a different animal.
Little soft sight and whines came from you in your sleep, until you called him name.
“Oscar” you moaned and he stopped thinking he’d woken you up but all he saw when he looked at your face against the pillow was a small furrow in your brows and your lips slightly parted.
“That’s it baby” he whispers softly.
He goes back to rubbing your clit until you roll a little bit, shaking in your sleep. He pulls away, knowing that an orgasm would most likely wake you up and he wanted to be inside you when that happened.
Pulling the underwear to the side and pulling your hips up a tiny little bit, he slips into your wetness. The sound was ludicrous, but he had to bite his lip to hold back his own moan as he bottomed out in you, your walls already clamping down on the unexpected intrusion.
He keeps a nice grip on your hips starting to thrust in and out, very softly that at one point it felt so good he had to bring his own hand up to cover his mouth as he let out his own grunt. He kept it up there for a while until he started to get needier and rougher to reach his high.
His hands had an incredibly strong grip on your lips and he’d lifted you up further to get a better angle in the relaxed doggy style he currently had you in.
“Argh fuck” he slipped up. And that when your mind started to wake up, you thought it was just an incredible dream you were having about your boyfriend. But as you started to come too, the feeling of something pushing in and out of you became far to realistic.
The feeling washed over you like a ton of bricks and you moaned at the feeling.
“Oscar?” You half moan, half question as you try look round, seeing your boyfriend behind you, thrusting in and out.
“Oh fuck, Osc. Missed you so fucking much. Fuck please baby” you cry as his thrusts get quicker knowing now your awake. He hits one spot that has you clamping tight around him, your hands fisting into the sheet and pillow as you moan out his name once more.
He shortly follows, hips stuttering into you before collapsing next to you, tucking you Into his embrace holding you close to him as he lets a breath out.
“Welcome home” you mutter sleepily as he kisses your head.
“I want to come home like this always” he sighs.
Taglist:
@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#oscar piastri series#oscar piastri mclaren#oscar piastri masterlist#oscar piastri angst#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut#op81 x you#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81
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play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.

the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?
warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst
shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.
everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.
something had changed him, for the worse.
and it was all your damn fault.
you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.
silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.
it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.
the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.
the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.
and then there’s him.
you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.
you almost drop your drink.
because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?
you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.
but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.
it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.
said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.
"fuck, i think i like you."
you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?
you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.
“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.
"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.
but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.
he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”
“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”
the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.
“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.
you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.
it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.
“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”
“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.
“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.
time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.
his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.
you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.
his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.
no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.
#bts fic#bts x reader#jungkook#bangtan fic#bangtan x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#bangtan x you#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#bts fluff#bts smut#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts x y/n#bts x fem!reader#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#🐈⬛✧˖° play pretend! verse
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nightmares | joaquín torres x reader



Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader Summary: Ever since the accident at Celestial Island, Joaquín has been having nightmares. He's been trying to keep them a secret from you until one night when you wake up to an empty bed. Warnings: Mentions of nightmares involving death and injuries as well as mental health issues/seeing a therapist and PTSD. Word Count: 2.1k A/N: I had this idea when I saw the film again yesterday and just had to write it. It's a little angsty and more serious than my other Joaquin fics but it still has sweet moments in there. Enjoy! 💗
Joaquin pours himself a glass of water as he stands in the kitchen. He takes a sip of it and sets it down on the bench before leaning on the bench and taking a long, deep breath. The kitchen is pitch black apart from the light of the moon through the window and completely silent except for the ticking of the clock on the wall above the dining table.
He uses the ticks of the clock to help steady his breathing.
Nightmares aren’t uncommon for Joaquin, especially after he’d almost died during the fight at Celestial Island six months ago. Even though he didn’t have any memories after he’d been hit up to when he woke up in the hospital, his mind always tried to fill in the gaps when he was sleeping, but it always added things that hadn’t happened. This was the second time this week that he’d been awoken by a nightmare where he’d actually died.
Not wanting to disturb your sleeping form beside him, he’d gotten out of bed as carefully as possible and come into the kitchen to calm himself down from it. Most nights he had trouble sleeping, but not every night was a nightmare kind of night, and he’s still trying to keep the fact that he has them from you. You don’t need to worry about him more than you already do.
His head snaps up as he hears one of the floorboards in the hallway creak and his heart drops into his stomach as he sees you, still half asleep, appear in the doorway to the kitchen. You’ve put on a robe to warm yourself up – the house often got cold in the middle of the night in the colder months of the year. Joaquin hadn’t bothered to even put on a shirt when he got up, needing the cold to help him snap out of his nightmare.
“Baby, what are you doing?” You ask, voice thick with sleep.
He softens immediately at the sound of your voice. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
You shake your head and start to walk over to him. “No, I just woke up naturally and I noticed that you weren’t in bed so I came looking for you. What are you doing in here? It’s freezing and you barely have any clothes on.”
Joaquin snorts. “I’m wearing boxers, angel.”
“Yeah, my point exactly,” you say before letting out a yawn.
He smiles to himself and wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. It’s an attempt to comfort himself, remind himself that he’s alive and you’re here with him, and also an apology that he’d gotten you up and out of bed. If he’d stayed in bed or been quicker going back, you would still be fast asleep and not in the kitchen at 3am.
“Got myself a personal heater now so I’m fine,” he grins, running his hands up and down your back. Your arms are wrapped around him too, and you’re trying to ignore how cold he feels standing here in the middle of the kitchen.
“You’re also avoiding my question,” you say, pulling back from the hug just enough so you can look him in the eyes. You’re a little more awake now, especially now that you can see Joaquin purposely avoiding answering you. “What are you doing out here?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Just needed a drink of water. Y’know that 3am feeling when you wake up and your throat is as dry as a desert?”
“Why didn’t you just drink from the glass you put on your nightstand before you went to bed?” You question, eyebrows raised. You can see what he’s doing – trying to move the conversation along so you don’t worry and go back to bed.
Joaquin pauses. Shit. He had put a glass of water on his nightstand before he’d gone to bed but he’d completely forgotten about it in the post nightmare haze and the hurry to get out of bed and wake himself up.
“I guess I forgot about it,” he chuckles – not a lie.
You sigh and step away from him, already missing his arms around you. They fall to his sides and he frowns as he watches you move away from him. Clearly, you didn’t trust a single word he said right now. He wasn’t as good of an actor as he thought.
“I wasn’t going to mention anything about this until you felt comfortable enough to bring it up to me, Joaquin,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the kitchen island. “But I know you’re having nightmares. I wake up nearly every time you have them because you’re whimpering in your sleep. Most times, you just fall back asleep so I don’t worry about them too much, but nights like tonight…”
Joaquin’s stomach drops. You knew? All this time… and you thought the reason he never told you about them was because he wasn’t comfortable enough to tell you? It feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “How long have you known?”
You shrug. “I don’t remember exactly, but maybe a month? I thought at first that maybe they weren’t bad enough for you to warrant telling me, but the longer you had them without waking me up or telling me about them the next morning made me feel differently.”
Joaquin sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I never told you because I didn’t want you to worry about me more than you already do, angel,” he explains. “I know you went through hell when I was in the hospital. I know that they had to restart my heart and I almost died in there. You’ve done enough worrying for ten lifetimes on my behalf.”
Just the look on your face is enough for Joaquin to take the few steps separating the two of you and wrap his arms around you again. It’s only a quick hug, though, because you pull away again so you can look at him when you’re talking.
“Joaquin, I signed up to worry about you for the rest of my life when I started dating you, and even more so when you asked me to marry you last year,” you say, holding your hand up as if to remind him of your engagement by showing the ring on your finger. “Yeah, I did go through hell when you were in the hospital. I cried more than I think I’ve ever cried in my whole life, more than I probably ever will again, but if that whole experience is causing you to have nightmares, don’t you think I’m pretty well equipped to help you through them? I sat beside you in that hospital bed for weeks. I was there for every moment of your recovery.”
He reaches up and takes your hand, entwining your fingers with his. He didn’t even have to tell you that it was that accident that was causing the nightmares. You just instinctively knew already. And you were right – you had been there beside him for every second that the Doctors allowed. Half of them he didn’t even know about since he’d been unconscious, but he had no doubts that you were there.
“Tonight,” he begins, “I dreamt that I died after the accident. The doctors weren’t able to save me and I died on the operating table. The other night, I dreamt that I didn’t even make it out of the water. I was falling and then I hit the water and I was sinking. Drowning. No one came to rescue me and they just let me die.”
His voice cracks a little as he speaks. Hearing the words out loud strikes a chord he hadn’t expected. It’s different to just seeing the nightmares in his head and thinking about them.
Your heart hurts as you listen to him and you squeeze his hand tightly. Your other hand rests on his waist and you swipe your thumb up and down over his skin in another attempt to reassure him that you’re here. Those things didn’t happen. The doctors saved him and he’s still alive. He might be scarred both physically and mentally, but he survived.
“Are the nightmares all like that?” You ask softly.
He nods. “They’re always some kind of variation of that. I don’t always die in them. Because I can’t remember everything that happened, my brain just tries to fill in the gaps, I guess. Obviously, I can’t tell if any of it is true or not or if my head is making it all up.”
You reach up with the hand that was on his waist to cup his cheek gently, bringing his eyes back to you. He’d been staring down at the kitchen island behind you without even realising it. “Maybe we can work on getting through these nightmares together, then,” you offer. “I wasn’t there for everything, but when you got to the hospital I was. We could talk to Sam, see if he could talk you through everything that happened between the accident happening and you arriving at the hospital. We were both there when you were in surgery so we can offer different perspectives of that.”
“I don’t really want Sam to know about these nightmares, angel…”
“We don’t have to tell him,” you shake your head. “We can just say that you’re want to know what happened back then. That you’re trying to piece together some of your memories. I know he’d do that for you, Joaquin.”
Joaquin nods. “Yeah, he would,” he says. “So, you think that maybe if I learn about everything that happened between the accident and when I woke up, maybe there wouldn’t be any parts of it for my brain to try and fill cause I know everything that happened?”
“Yeah, basically. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”
He looks at you for a moment and then nods. Your words make sense and at this point, he’s willing to give anything a go to try and get rid of the nightmares. He realises, then, that he definitely should’ve told you about all of this long ago. He wouldn’t have had to suffer from them alone for all this time if he had.
You squeeze his hand again. “And maybe… you should talk to a professional too.”
Joaquin laughs a little. He’d seen that coming. In fact, he’d been told that he should see someone about possible PTSD not long after he’d woken up in the hospital but he figured it wasn’t going to be necessary. It wasn’t the first time he’d been injured while working. Sure, it was the most serious injury so far, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Especially since he had you by his side for his recovery and an invitation to become an Avenger by Sam. He hates that he’s a little too proud to accept help sometimes.
“I think you might be right about that, angel,” he admits, smiling a little. “Thank you for getting out of bed and forcing me to talk about all this. I only wish this hadn’t happened in the middle of the night when you need to get up to go to work in the morning.”
“Yeah, can you try and have a nightmare at 3pm next time instead of 3am? That’d work better for my schedule,” you joke, flashing him a grin. “But, if you’re up for it, I would very much like to try and get some more sleep, and I’d love to have you sleeping beside me if you think you can fall back asleep again.”
Joaquin doesn’t reply, just starts leading you back towards your bedroom, still holding your hand. Once you’re back in your bedroom – a room much darker than the kitchen due to the curtains being drawn – Joaquin pulls the robe off of your shoulders and hangs it back up on the back of your bedroom door.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then?” You ask, looking up at him even though he’s barely visible.
Joaquin leans down and presses his lips to yours in a quick kiss. “Can I be the little spoon?” He murmurs against your lips after he pulls away. “Might make me sleep better, y’know, feeling comforted and protected and all that.”
You huff out a laugh. “I’ll allow us to change things up just this once, baby,” you reply. “Now, hurry up and get back into bed cause you’re freezing and there’s no way I’m cuddling you until you’re at least a little bit warmer.”
#joaquin torres#joaquin torres x reader#joaquin x torres x you#marvel#marvel x reader#captain america#captain america brave new world
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bae bae | choi su-bong (thanos)



・❥・ summary: after a night out at club pentagon you end up in bed with your friend who has zero shame ・❥・word count: 1.6k ・❥・warnings: 18+. mdni. oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, thanos is rough. swearing. mentions of drugs, female reader. ・❥・ authors note: ... this is pure filth, im so sorry. also this is pre-squid game <3 i also havent added my taglist in case people dont want to be tagged in smut but if you do let me know!!


The whole night had been a blur. How you’d ended up back in your own bed you had no idea but thankfully you’d made it home safe. The music from Club Pentagon still echoed through your ears like an anthem constantly playing in your head. You opened your eyes, your hands coming up to rub them with the palm of your hands. What time was it? You leaned over, grabbing your phone off the bedside table to see it was 3am. With a groan, you buried your head back into the safety of your pillow making a mental note to yourself to never drink so much again. All you could remember was that it had been a rough day, so bad that your friend Su-bong had decided a night out at his favourite club was the perfect remedy. So much for listening to him. That was on you, really. None of his ideas were ever good. They mostly consisted of drowning feelings in alcohol or taking one of his colourful little pills to forget what was going on.
As your thoughts drifted to him, a quiet groan filled the room causing you to perk up. It was coming from next to you so you just had to assume it was Thanos making noises in his sleep. He did that often – his nightmares coming frequently. If he was next to you that meant he had been the one to bring you home. A big thank you was in order for him in the morning when you could handle being awake. If your pounding head was anything to go by, you were going to have one hell of a hangover. Your eyes closed once again as you tried to drift back off to sleep. Just as you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard a grunt.
Okay, what was going on here?
You turned around, sitting up slightly as you took in the scene before you. Yeah, there Thanos was. Everything seemed normal until you saw his chest rising and falling rapidly, movement under the blankets catching your eye. Your brows furrowed. This man wasn’t doing what you thought he was doing in your bed, was he? Only one way to find out.
Maybe it was your hungover mind but the thought of what you might find excited you. The way he was biting his lower lip to keep quiet only fueling your intrusive thoughts. Your fingers grasped the blanket, pulling it off. Well, you were right.
There he was, hand wrapped around his cock as he jerked himself off. Your eyes fixated on his hand that began speeding up, his hips bucking off the bed for more friction. Oh, he was really into this. How had he not realised you’d caught him? Part of you wanted to watch him finish, the throbbing between your legs thinking for you more than your brain. You hadn’t even realised how into this you were until you caught yourself slipping. There had been moments in the past where the two of you had almost hooked up but it had never gone past making out. Something always got in the way whether it was his friend Nam-gyu interrupting or his need to take another pill – it never led anywhere.
You cleared your throat deciding it was better to let him know you’d caught him than let him carry on. His eyes flew open, his hand still as he looked at you. He wasn’t embarrassed – you were certain he didn’t even know that emotion. He just looked at you expectantly, pushing himself to sit up slightly, his erection still standing for the world to see.
“What?” He asked unbothered, annoyed even that you’d stopped him.
“I just caught you jerking yourself off and you don’t care?” You blinked at him. This was Thanos, of course he didn’t care. He had no shame.
“Why the fuck would I? Now, you gonna let me finish or help me out here.” He gestured towards his cock, his hand slowly stroking himself again.
As you watched, you couldn’t help but be transfixed. He knew what he was doing and it was working. The cogs in your brain were working overtime as you fought with helping him or ignoring him and letting take care of himself. He could see it, the smirk on his face making him look even more attractive. ‘Fuck it’, you thought.
“Fine, you’ll owe me one, though.”
“No problem, Senorita. Now get those pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”
You didn’t have time to react before his hand came up to your head, pushing you down towards his hardened length. Your tongue darted out, teasing the head but he wasn’t having it. He was too horny for teasing. He needed to have his cock stuffed down your throat or he was going to go insane. So, without warning, he pushed your head down onto him. It took you by surprise, almost choking but you steadied yourself, hands gripping his hips as you finally found a rhythm. Your lips moved up and down his length, tongue flattening out against the underside of his cock.
“Mhmm, just like that, pretty girl,” he rasped in that deep voice of his, his fingers tangling in your hair pushing you down onto him. You felt him hit the back of your throat almost gagging on him before he pulled you back up. “You’re doing so good.”
The praise was turning you on more than you’d like to admit. Your lips wrapped around him again, taking him as deep as you could without choking but it wasn’t enough. His hips bucked up into your mouth, his hand firmly tangled in your hair. You decided to give up and let him have his way. He felt your mouth slacken, the feral grin on his face letting you know he was more than willing to fuck your mouth stupid.
His grunts and groans filled the room as he thrust up into your mouth at a rapid pace. You could feel his cock twitching each time he hit the back of your throat. Tears sprang at the corner of your eyes as you gagged on him, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close.”
Just as you were sure he was about to finish, he yanked your head off him, pushing you back down onto the bed. In a frenzy, he pushed the skirt up you were wearing, pulling your panties to the side. He slid his index finger along your pussy, almost groaning at how wet you were when he hadn’t even done anything. You were so damn desperate, he loved every second of it. “Wanna come inside this sweet, little pussy. You gonna let me, baby?”
He dragged his cock along your folds coating himself in your slickness and that was game over for you. Frantically, you nodded your head. That was all he needed. He pushed himself inside you in one deep thrust. The loud moan you let out surprised you, Thanos’s eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of finally being inside you after all this time. No interruptions, no need for a high. This was the only high he needed. He’d been missing out. He pushed your legs up and over his shoulders, pulling his cock almost all the way out and thrusting inside once again. His pace was anything but gentle, the tight grip he had on your hips sure to leave bruises. Your hands gripped the bedsheets below you as he pounded into you. There was no way you were going to last long if he kept this up but then again neither was he. You could tell with the way his eyebrows scrunched up that he was holding back. At least he wasn’t selfish in the bedroom.
“Su-bong,” you moaned, back arching as you felt your orgasm fast approaching. The moaning of his name was almost his undoing.
“Yeah? You like that, huh? Like being fucked stupid by your best friend?” He panted, the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoing off the walls of the small room. The bed occasionally banging against the wall with the intensity of his thrusts. Your neighbours were definitely going to have something to say about it in the morning. “Come for me. Wanna feel you squeezin’ the life outta me.”
One particular hard thrust and that was it. A loud, almost pornographic moan fell from your lips as you saw stars. Your fingers pulled at the sheets, legs quivering as your orgasm washed over you. Thanos didn’t let up his pace, his eyes drawn to where your bodies were joined as he fucked into you. The feeling of your walls squeezing around his cock bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck, fuck. Gonna come. Gonna fill you up real good.”
It took one, two more thrusts when he stilled inside you, his cock twitching as he came harder than he had in his life. He was sure he saw the whole damn universe, throwing his head back as he groaned. His hips shallowly thrust into you, pulling out once he’d finished. Did he clean you up? Nah. He flopped back down next to you, grabbing his vape off the bedside.
“We should’ve done that a long time ago,” he chuckled, taking a puff. He handed it over to you, his lazy eyes meeting yours. “Do I still owe you one?”
You took a hit of the vape, nodding your head as you passed it back to him. “Oh, hell yeah you do. Not getting out of it that easily.”
“Was hoping you’d say that,” he winked at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you into his side. It wasn’t cuddling but it was something to show you his appreciation. Better than nothing.
#choi subong x reader#thanos x reader#choi su bong x reader#squid game x reader#choi seunghyun#thanos smut#my fics#me off to hide everytime i post smut
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found this sexy shawn selfie and knew you had to see it. i’m literally going crazy
OK BUT LIKE IMAGINE
It starts with a joke.
You’re curled up in bed wearing his zip-up jacket, legs tangled in the sheets, while Jack’s pulling on a clean pair of black scrubs by the closet, dog tags hanging loose around his neck. You watch him in the low light, hair still damp from a rushed shower, stubble catching the shadows. It’s late—almost 6:45 PM. He’s got night shift again.
“You should get Snapchat,” you say, yawning into the pillow.
Jack snorts without looking at you. “For what?”
“So I can send you stupid pictures of me missing you at 3AM. And so you can send me that exact face you’re making right now,” you tease, waving your phone vaguely in his direction. “You know. Thirst content.”
He zips up the jacket he’s already left you in twice this week, steps into his shoe. “I’m almost fifty,” he mutters.
“You’re forty-nine,” you shoot back. “And if I have to survive your night shifts without at least one blurry selfie to bully, it’s actually cruel.”
Jack laughs under his breath, leans over to kiss your forehead. “You’re ridiculous.”
But two nights later, your phone buzzes.
It’s nearly 2:00 AM. You’re half-asleep on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, reruns playing quietly in the background. You blink at the notification.
Jack Abbot sent you a Snap.
You sit up.
It’s a selfie—low angle, dimly lit, taken in what looks like the breakroom bathroom. His face is flushed, hair messy, the front of his undershirt damp at the collar like he’s been running up and down trauma halls all night.
“That enough content for you?”
You forget how to breathe for a second.
From then on, it’s a full-blown bit.
You send sleepy, messy snaps at ungodly hours. “Thinking about you. The dog tags. Your hands. Dying a little.”
He sends back mirror pics from break rooms and stairwells. Sometimes it’s just a photo of his hand gripping a pen or rubbing his face mid-charting. Once, it's a blurry shot of the ambulance bay—captioned “this night is a disaster. i miss you.”
But then, one night, you take it a little further.
You send him a snap from your bathroom—dim lighting, warm glow, just out of the shower. The steam’s still clinging to the mirror. You’re wrapped in a towel, hair wet, skin glowing.
“Wish you were home.”
It takes less than five minutes for his reply to come through.
“Don’t move. I’ll be there as soon as I sign out.”
And he is.
He walks through the door just after 7:20 AM, sun barely up. His eyes sweep over you, standing barefoot in the kitchen in one of his old T-shirts and nothing else.
He doesn’t even speak at first. Just drops his bag, closes the space between you, and presses you back against the counter with his mouth on yours—tired, hungry, rough around the edges. His hands find your hips. One glides up the inside of your thigh.
“All night,” he breathes against your neck. “All fucking night I was thinking about that picture.”
“I wasn’t trying to torture you,” you lie.
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
He lifts you onto the counter without warning. The kiss turns deeper, heavier. You can taste how long the night was. You can feel how badly he needed to get back to you.
Later, when you’re curled up in bed with him, you open Snapchat one more time.
You snap a picture of your hand on his chest, his dog tags resting just beneath your palm. You can see the line of his jaw in the corner of the frame, lips parted in sleep.
Caption: “morning shift: complete.”
You set your phone down. He stirs slightly beside you, eyes barely open.
“You still documenting this?” he mumbles.
“Only the good parts,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
He hums low in his throat. “Good. ‘Cause you’re not getting a sequel. You’re stuck with me.”
And you are—happily, completely, irrevocably.
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24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 16.



Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content (somno, intense fingering, edging, overstimulation), soft!dom Dean, also some fluff sprinkled on top of it ♡ (Also! English is not my native language)
Summary: Dean loves to pleasure you when you’re still in your half-sleep state, still dozy and all his to play with and to take care of… and this time he coaxes you into taking a little more than usual.
Words: 2,520
Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: I skipped the 15th Dec. prompt, since I felt like writing this one first. I'll post the 15th later some time! On another note; I've got a new theme! Made my own lil' banner and such. Hope you like it 😳 ANYWAY
♡ ENJOY THE torturous EDGING MY LITTLE VIXENS ♡
16th Dec. - Roll Over Rule
The sound of Dean’s serene breaths make you tiptoe your way around the bed, careful not to wake him from his deep sleep. It was late, 3AM by now. You’d done some late night research in the War room with Sam, losing track of time as you often did. And you’d basically forced Dean to go to bed a few hours ago since he had stayed up the past nights.
You slowly slip under the covers and still in your movement for a moment – listening for the slow rhythm of his breath. Good, he is still asleep. And he has occupied 3/4rd of the bed as always. Your face softens as your eyes take in his peaceful state; his face pressed into the pillow, his ruffled dark blond hair still a bit damp from the midnight shower. He’s on his stomach, his body twisted in a way that almost makes you wince inwardly. And his left arm stretched out to your bedside. Waiting for you to latch onto it, as it had become a silent habit of yours.
You gently grab his arm and snuggle up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around his muscled upper arm and his forearm gets tucked nicely between your thighs. Dean stirs briefly, mumbling something before he angles his head to rest it against the top of yours. You let out a soft, content sigh, relieved that you didn’t wake him from his dreamless sleep. Soon enough you fall asleep with your limbs entangled with his arm, feeling his comforting warmth and listening to his calming breaths of a slow steady rhythm.
You don’t know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or so, when you feel Dean’s arm slightly twist in your grip. Suddenly his hand slips between your legs to cradle you there with palms up. Your mind’s still too sleepy to fully register what’s going on when a little shiver goes straight to your core. A small, almost imperceptible one. But your body acts on instinct and doesn’t need your mind for what it subconsciously craves. You suddenly let go of his arm and roll over onto your stomach – a sleeping position you usually never take. Unless, it’s meant as a green light for Dean to go on.
Yeah, you had been pretty needy lately. ‘Damn, you’re like a bitch in heat, babe.’ As Dean had commented on it shamelessly. Which not only made you sputter, but had Sam choke on his beer and Cas raise his eyebrows in confusion, secretly wondering why Dean would compare you with a female dog.
Your mind quickly slips back into that cozy sleep – whereas Dean seems to have woken up beside you. He places soft kisses along your neck, his hand gently running up and down your body, occasionally slipping beneath your pyjamas.
Next moment you remember, you feel hot and aroused. Your inner thighs are wet, your clit swollen and you’re panting slightly. And then you feel his two fingers slip inside you, effortlessly parting your slick folds. A meek moan escapes your lips, your mind still somewhere caught between sleep and excited arousal.
“You good, sweetheart..?” you hear his gravel voice next to your ear. You nod, not wanting the pleasure to stop but too sleepy to form any words.
He picks up a tantalizing pace. His small and middle finger pumping inside your dripping wet cunt while his index and middle finger slide along your folds, pinching your clit between them with every thrust. Your moans grow louder and soon turn into needy whimpers, begging him for release.
“Mh? Tell me baby…” your answer once again is a weak, short whimper. A thick haze clouding your sleep-addled mind and ridding you of any capability to form a thought, let alone words. It’s like you’ve been turned into a whimpering, mewling mess – powerless in every form. At this moment you were his entirely. Completely at his mercy. And knowing Dean, you are left with no other option but to take the overwhelming pleasure and to teeter on that torturous edge. Over. And over. And over.
Dean is truly a master in the art of edging. His calloused fingers playing you like it’s child’s play, hitting every spot at the right moment and – to your frustration – changing rhythm and withdrawing them every single time right before you get to fall over the edge. Leaving you mewling desperately, close to tears from the overwhelming built up tension in your core. You cry and pant into the pillow breathless while he starts over with the procedure, denying you the final relief with a cheeky grin of his.
Soon a third finger is jammed into your throbbing cunt. Dean and you groan in harmony when your walls clamp his fingers, pulling them in like they were made for you. He bites back another deep moan before grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. "Damn... sweetheart, you're killin' me here..."
Once he rode you through another round of edging by switching between the numbers of fingers every now and then, you quickly adjust to the new size.
When Dean notices how his fingers slide in and out so effortlessly, an idea forms in his head. He suddenly presses his lips against the shell of your ear. His voice a husky whisper, gentle and yet demanding, “Show me how deep you want it.”
You don’t even think, your body acting on its own. It’s like he’s got you under some magic spell, the relentless working of his fingers keeping you spellbound. His hand stills while you buck your hips against his hand. Further and further up, angling it while you press your chest into the mattress – the increasing tightness making you whimper and bite down on the pillow.
But to Dean’s amazement, you keep pushing against him, taking it all the way. Even when he slowly slips a fourth finger inside. He bites back another guttural groan. The feeling of you clamping his fingers and now even slowly, tentatively rocking your hips against him is almost too much for him.
“That’s it…” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, despite your mindless state. You roll your hips up against him and a loud groan erupts from your throat at the intense sensation of him splitting you apart.
Dean leans a bit back to relish the view with parted lips: He’s knuckles-deep inside you. His four thick fingers stretching you to the point you feel like you might explode. He’s completely filling you, his fingertips hitting your most sensitive spot at the very end.
He lets you set the pace, only occasionally curling his fingers as he draws sounds from you which can only be describe as borderline pornographic. Every whine and mewl are rewarded with a stronger flick of his thumb over your swollen clit. Your legs are shaking and you buckle from the increased friction, the pleasure doubled with a simple continues rub against your bud.
It doesn’t take long until your legs not only tremble but start to give in and fight the mattress for some form of control. Short erratic puffs of breath burst out of your mouth and a little dribble of saliva escapes the corner of your lips. The sight alone would’ve almost sent Dean, but the sounds you made – my God your sounds of pleasure were like heaven to him.
Desperate and overwhelmed, your body starts to act on its own again; your legs kick and squirm and writhe. Your hips suddenly jerk away and your fingers dig into the sheets enough to strangle a grown man.
Dean’s eyes widen briefly, leaning down with his weight to keep you still. “Shhh-Shhh,” he coos reassuringly, but with an almost mock-innocent undertone. As if that sly bastard didn’t know that you are on the brink of breaking.
He slings his leg around one of your kicking legs, effectively holding it in a deadlock as he presses it back into the mattress. “Ah-ah-ah,” he playfully warns you with a cocky smirk, “Stay here, sweetheart… ain’t done with ya yet…” He moves his free hand up to the back of your head where he carefully threads his fingers through your hair, taking a fist full to gently tug your head back and hold you in place.
A pleading whimper leaves your lips. Begging for relief, for him to finally allow you to fall over that damn edge. You try to voice your plea for mercy but any word that’s meant to leave your lips is smushed into another pathetic, strangled noise on its way out.
“Damn… can’t even talk any more can ya, gorgeous…” Dean chuckles deeply, his rumbling chest vibrating against your back as he keeps you pinned down under his weight. You can feel the muscles of his hard calf, tense and unyielding against your trapped leg. Your thigh straining against him in vain, twitching and trembling. Your toes claw at the sheets in a desperate attempt to break free from his grip, whimpering something which he recognises as a scrambled, frustrated “please”. But he doesn’t budge, his strength effortlessly keeping you at his mercy and leaving you no chance of escaping his onslaught.
He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping an octave when he asks teasingly, “You wanna cum? That it, baby? You want me to make ya cum?”
Yes, yes, yes yes yes – you keep repeating the word in your head until you realize that you’re only whining more. Dean chuckles, “That a yes? Hm? What was that?”
Oh Jesus Christ he’s enjoying this way too much. This time you nod – frantically. Not taking the risk of your answer getting lost again. Your sounds are hoarse by now, your body contorting from his four fingers slowly moving inside your cunt and his thumb working your clit every now and then – not enough to let the knot in your stomach burst, but enough to keep you on the brink of it. He falls into a tantalizing pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes so deep that it makes your half-lidded eyes roll back with a pained groan.
Dean meanwhile drinks in the sight of you squirming from the pleasure he can give you, all at his mercy, making sure to not give you a single moment of catching your breath.
“Oh yeah..?” Dean lets out a low hum. He pulls your ear lobe between his teeth and gives you a little tug at your hair. You’re shaking, even your whimpering sounds are clipped, breathless and trembling, your mind numb by now. Your body overstimulated and exhausted from chasing that sweet relief for what feels like hours.
“Jesus, you’re so vocal babe… you know how hard this gets me?” He groans against the side of your face and he grinds his rock hard erection against your hip to prove his statement. After a moment, he releases the grip on your hair and moves his hand down your neck, angling his shoulders to push his arm down between your shoulder blades to keep you from wiggling away. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he says while shifting his position on top of you, “And good girls get a reward…”
Fucking finally. A long shaky exhale escapes you when his weight presses down on you, his body covering you like a heavy blanket. He supports himself by leaning up on his right elbow, always making sure not to put too much pressure on you, but enough to let you feel his strength and the power over you.
His hot, ragged breath hits your ear once more. Whispering in that gravelly and authoritative tone of his, every word punctured by a deep thrust of his fingers, “’M gonna count down from ten… and when I hit zero... I want you to cum for me baby, understand?”
Lord have mercy. You nod again, although most of his words went past you and at this point you would have probably agreed to anything for that relief. With your brain melted into a useless puddle, you feel like you’re only driven by need and primal instincts by now.
And then, the next ten seconds feel like the most intense you have ever experienced. With every number you feel your knot tighten more, your core burning up as if it was to explode any second – but not yet, not yet —
“…seven…”
He moves his arm along your back to grab your left hand, holding it down. “…six...” His fingers intertwine with yours, while his other hand picks up its pace. “…five…” You’re suddenly arching your back, involuntarily trying to squirm away from him. But his firm chest keeps you safe beneath him, while his lips form the next number against your ear, “…four…”
Almost there. Your free knee slides along the mattress aimlessly and your other hand rips at the pillow, feeling like your body is about to snap into two. “…three…”
Determined to get you there, his calloused thumb flicks your overstimulated bud without mercy, earning himself another guttural whimper of yours, “-that’s it, let me hear ya …two…”
The sound of his low rumbling voice cuts right through your haze and a shudder shoots through your body. The anticipation’s almost killing you at this point, feeling coiled up like a spring.
“…one…” You can feel it, the wave building up and ready to crash down on you. Dean can sense you’re on the very edge too and he intends to send you over it this time. He gently bites down on your neck, muttering his final order against your skin, “…zero… cum for me, sunshine.” You go tense like a bowstring and your head snaps forward to bury your face in his elbow. When, at last, the wave hits your body and the knot in your stomach finally explodes with a strangled scream of relief. Several shudders of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you twist and turn, sandwiched between the mattress and Dean’s heavy body. He lets you ride out your high, his strong muscles working to hold you close to his chest.
You pant heavily, shakily. Your mind finally clearing. Your bleary eyes fully opening for the first time, like this was all just a dream too good to be true. His voice draws your attention to his face, when he gasps. “Jesus sweetheart… it’s like a swimmin’ pool down here.”
That comment takes you so much off guard, that you break out into a surprised laughter. He grins at you before he joins with his own hearty bark of amusement, a cocky grin on his face. “I ain’t kiddin’ – I’m growin’ fins!” He holds up his drenched hand, wrinkled skin, wiggling his cum-covered fingers in front of your eyes, “Look!”
He chuckles and his widened eyes take in the mess with something like fascination and an eager lick of his lips. The corners of his smile pull up into a lazy grin when his emerald eyes meet your satisfied and dozy, half-lidded ones again. “Y’know… I think ’m gonna need to clean up that mess down there.”
Masterlist of opened windows:
1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)
Tags:
@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown
#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#soft dom! dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#dean winchester#dean x you#spn x reader#spn reader insert#supernatural#spn#kinky advent calendar
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Logan, who rolls his eyes at Wade's constant moving and squirming in their bed. Logan, who grumbles at him to shut up during the night when they are both trying to sleep because Wade won't stop rambling nonsense. Logan, who growls and shakes him off whenever they accidently end up intertwined in their sleep.
Except then Wade ends up on a merc job that runs through the night and Logan can't fucking sleep.
At first, he isn't sure what the problem is. He did his usual routine, set up the pull out and climbed under the covers, looking forward to a night with the bed to himself.
He then proceeds to toss and turn for hours. His brain won't shut off enough for him to fall asleep, and he can't get fucking comfortable. It's driving him insane, and he lies there for hours, utterly frustrated because he is tired. He's exhausted, actually, and yet he can't fall asleep and the why of it all doesn't hit him till about 3am.
The bed isn't creaking softly under Wade's constantly bouncing leg and shifting positions. There's no running commentary that quietens his own thoughts enough to let him drift off. There's nothing warm and solid that smells like Wade to wrap himself around during the night when his body is craving touch the most.
He gives up with a growl, flicking on the TV and relenting to the fact he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. His brain won't shut the fuck up repeating Wade's name like a damn mantra, and his body is practically vibrating with anxiety over the fact the merc wasn't next to him right now where he was supposed to be.
(Ridiculous and possessive, he scolds himself. Wade is his own damn person, and he has more important stuff to do that be Logan's emotional support teddy bear. Not to mention he's over two hundred fucking years old, and shouldn't need an emotional support teddy bear.)
Wades gets back at six in the morning. Logan can smell the thick scent of his blood before he actually sees him, and he's already up and at the door as Wade enters silently.
He almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Logan standing there waiting for him.
"Fuck, peanut! Warn a guy next time! I thought you'd still be sleeping," Wade says, pulling his mask off, clutching his chest dramatically.
Now that Wade's here, standing in front of him after Logan spent the last eight hours craving his prescence to a nauseating degree, he doesn't know what to say. Doesn't want to freak Wade out with his own stupid attachment, settles on a "you okay?"
His voice cracks, and Wade looks instantly worried, taking a step into his space.
"I think I should be asking you that," he frowns, and Logan shrugs, tries to keep his tone light and casual as he replies, "couldn't sleep."
It comes out the opposite of light and casual. The heaviness of the emotion there is embarrassing and obvious, and Wade clicks on without any further clarification.
Logan cringes, waiting for the jokes. Waiting for Wade to gloat about making it so he can't sleep without him, and the thing is Logan would take it all on the chin. Would accept every condescending word if it meant that Wade would just come to bed with him.
Except Wade's face goes soft instead, and he's tugging off his blood stained gloves and lifting both hands to cup Logan's face. His expression is... fond, and Logan wants to tell him he doesn't deserve it, but instead he just kind of melts into the touch. Into Wade's warmth. His smell. It's intoxicating, and a better distraction than any bottle Logan had ever found himself at the bottom of.
"I... come to bed, please? I'm so tired," Logan mumbles, and Wade smiles.
"There's no where else I'd rather be, sweetheart. Let me shower off the blood and I'm all yours."
Logan's anxiety spikes a little despite himself, and he's scanning over Wade with concern, "are you definitely alright?"
"Immortal, remember? I'm completely fine peanut, but if you want to join me in the shower to examine me yourself I'm not complaining," he wags his non-existent eyebrows, and Logan snorts.
"That shower would never fit the two of us."
"Is that a challenge?"
And he isn't sure why, but the warm familiarity of their back and forth sends him into a fresh wave of emotion again, and he finds himself pulling Wade in for a hug before he could chastise himself for even wanting it.
Wade hugs him back tight, running a hand over his back, "so no more overnight jobs?"
Logan grumbles his disapproval, and Wade chuckles in his hold.
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Come to Bed | Donatello
this started with the idea of seducing donnie into healthy sleeping patterns and then just. spiralled from there. i didn't really have a specific iteration in mind but reading it back, it definitely fits bayverse most, i think, so that's what i'll categorise it under!
warnings: NSFW, swearing, general filthiness? gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+!!
summary: there is only one way to get donnie to come to bed (two if you count blackmail)
word count: 2411
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It’s nearly 3am and your eyelids feel heavy, eyes glassy and beginning to ache just a little, and Donnie is still not in bed. You look at the empty space beside you, cold and untouched, and kick the covers off your bare legs. The air is cool, goosebumps raising the moment you abandon the comfort of bed, and you almost regret getting up as your feet hit the freezing floor.
Donnie is so lucky you love him and care for his health.
He's exactly where you'd left him hours before, sitting hunched over a desk in his lab, and you wonder briefly if turtles with their shells can suffer the same complications as humans with poor posture. Perhaps you'll force him to join you and Mikey for your bi-weekly yoga sessions. “Donnie?”
The terrapin doesn't so much as flinch, instead burying his face further into a screen that is already way too close to his face. Oh, his prescription is definitely going to need updating soon, you think amusedly. You clear your throat, attempting your best grumpy Raph impersonation. “Oi, four-eyes.”
Now Donnie does flinch, beak nearly crashing into his monitor, glasses slipping as he salvages his precious technology from being assaulted by his face and spinning in his seat to glower at whoever dared disturb him. He relaxes when he realises it's just you, shooting you a scowl that's devoid of any real heat. “You need to stop doing that voice, it's creepy.”
You grin at him, noting the exact moment he registers what you're wearing – or, rather, what you're not wearing. His eyes go wide and his lips part, scowl melting like ice doused in salt. He swallows thickly. “You're meant to be a ninja,” you tease, stepping slowly into his space and letting his hands fall to your waist before they curl around your back as he pulls you close, palms flattening against your spine. “You can't hear when one measly human is behind you?”
“You are so mean to me,” Donnie says instead of answering.
“We both know you like it. Besides,” you look down at your naked skin, his own eyes following your pointed gaze eagerly. “I think I'm being pretty kind, actually. Someone was meant to come to bed three hours ago and ravish me, but apparently, I'm not more interesting than,” you peer over his shoulder as best you can, squinting at the tiny squiggles. Lips pursed, you look at your boyfriend flatly, not bothering to finish your sentence.
“I can explain.”
“World of Warcraft? Really, Donatello?”
He winces at the full name. “I wasn’t playing for long,” he defends himself. “I’ve been looking over some things Leo asked for since this morning, I was just taking a break.”
“Taking a break means coming to bed and not staring at a screen for even longer.” Softer, you add, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”
You run your hands up the bumpy skin of his muscled arms, over scars and rough tissue that you’ve pressed kisses to countless times, to rest upon his shoulders. A small part of you is resentful, but the larger, kinder part of you is concerned; his eyes are bloodshot to the extreme, and exhaustion is etched deep into the lines of his face. You dig your nails in and massage a little roughly, feeling those worried knots and doing your best to soothe them with gentle palms.
It hits him then, just exactly what he’d missed out on by getting caught up, and his shoulders sag under the tender weight of your caress, twitchy energy that can keep him up for days deserting him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.
You smile at him, fond and warm, one hand trailing upwards to cup his jaw. “It’s okay.” His skin is something you’ll never get tired of touching, you think, as you rub your thumb over the swell of his cheek. You pinch him a little, coy and mean the way you know he loves, before soothing it with a whisper of a kiss when he hisses playfully. “Although, you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“And what is my punishment?” he asks dryly, guilt pushed aside to indulge in your teasing as you lean closer to hide your smirk in the crook of his neck.
“You’ll be in bed by 11 p.m. sharp every night for the next week.” You can tell an objection is on the tip of his tongue, and you fix your teeth along his throat in warning. “I’ve already cleared everything with Splinter and Leo.”
Donnie sighs both in pleasure and in resignation. “Are you trying to seduce me into having healthy sleeping patterns?”
You start to kiss his neck, soft grazes of your lips against his scaled skin. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“Well—”
“If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll be very offended and I’ll be forced to dump you,” you add airily, tongue flicking leisurely over his rapid pulse. “You're incredibly lucky I haven't already for ditching me for World of fucking Warcraft.”
“Oh, blackmail too. Lucky me,” Donnie mutters, but it’s full of mirth and he doesn't push his luck any further.
You grin against his skin, and you grin even wider when he starts as your teeth scrape along the column of his throat. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, and you bite down harder just to feel his grip tighten.
“You’re such a tease,” he whines, unable to stop himself bucking up into you. His breathing has turned to panting, short and desperate gasps that make heat curl in your stomach, and you trail your nails down the keratin of his plastron slowly.
“You love it,” you murmur coyly, fingers brushing against the elastic of his waistband mischievously. “And you deserve it.”
Donnie curses loudly, head falling back as you pull on that elastic just to let it snap back against him. His pants are soaking, and you feel that familiar rush of smug satisfaction as you slot your knee between his thighs. It does terrible things to your ego seeing him like this; it makes you drunk and dizzy seeing him drenched and needy for you, and you groan under your breath as he grinds against you.
“Please,” he whimpers.
You hum as casually as you can. “Please what?”
“Fuck, please, I need you—” He cuts himself off with a loud cry of your name as you slide two fingers past his waistband and into his dripping cloaca.
“Keep going.”
He’s quick to turn into a blubbering mess, drool running down his chin and words slurring as he babbles and begs you to continue finger-fucking him. “Don’t stop, please—yes, yes, right there, there, fuck—”
Your fingers pump in and out, scissoring inside him at a harsh pace you know he likes. He’s sopping wet but that doesn’t stop the tiny spikes of pain mixing deliriously with pleasure as you stretch him wide without warning. You can feel his slick coating your hand, running down your skin and over your knuckles, and he only gushes more when you add a third digit.
“Faster, faster,” he chants shakily, almost sobbing when you slow instead.
“You’re so tight, baby,” you purr. “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you.”
He’s definitely sobbing now. “I can take it, please, please.”
“Oh?” You curl your fingers and fuck him harder and faster, just the way he wants. His cock is there, thick and heavy and ready to drop, and he shudders as you brush softly against it.
His voice is choked as he calls your name again. "Gonna drop, please–”
Your laugh is light and a little cruel and it makes him wail, the sound overflowing with need and desperation. “Don’t you dare.”
“Oh god,” Donnie gasps as your fingers rub along his length still tucked inside, a fresh wave of slick trickling down to your wrist.
“I would’ve been kind,” you tell him nonchalantly, kissing his temple and huffing another laugh when he can’t stop his hips from grinding into you, body begging you to bury your fingers deeper inside him. “But you’ve been such a bad boy.”
He drops with a guttural groan followed by a pathetic whimper, gasping apologies feebly.
You sigh and pull your hand back, your resolve faltering just a little when Donnie whines and cries louder at the action. “You’re being very bad tonight, baby.”
He’s still wearing his pants and you roll your lips to hide a smile as he tugs them down frantically, his cock finally free in the air. His hands grip the arms of his chair so hard that you swear you hear them creak, desperate to touch himself but not wanting to disobey you any further. It’s a bit late to play innocent and good now, and you shoot him an unimpressed look that makes his jaw clench. “Please,” Donnie breathes.
Your hand is still soaked, and you watch him watch you as you raise your fingers to your lips, sticky tendrils trembling as you rub your fingertips together before parting them slowly. Eyes fixed on his, you glide your tongue over his slick, sucking gently and exhaling quietly at the flavour that blooms over your tastebuds. The arms of the chair are definitely creaking now, and you smile coyly as his cock twitches.
“Please.”
As much as you love teasing him into a pathetic frenzy, you remember his weary eyes and decide to put him out of his misery. There’ll be plenty of time to punish Donnie the way he deserves later – lots of edging and whining and begging and very little relief. For now, you’ll give him what he wants.
You kneel between his legs, coquettish as you glance up at him through your lashes; he’s working his jaw, teeth clenched and eyes darting wildly as he barely holds himself together. Grasping his hard cock in your hand, slick and heavy, you begin to pump slowly.
The chirps and churrs that escape him are whining and full of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering as you squeeze your palms around his thick length, hands twisting with an obscene squelch at every stroke. The lab is quiet apart from the wet pumping and his throaty groans, and you wonder if his moaning will be loud enough to wake the others. It wouldn’t surprise you, and the thought makes your hand move faster as you rub your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.
Donnie can’t stop the stutter of his hips, head falling back. “Fuck.” He swears louder as your lips suckle his tip, your name a rasping prayer spilling from his mouth. You flick your tongue, tasting the slightly bitter flavour of his precum and just how soaked he is, evidence of what you do to him coating your face, and he cries noisily when you suddenly take another few inches into your mouth and swallow around him. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and he feels like he’s about to faint from how tight and warm you feel.
A wave of embarrassment hits him as you pull back and smirk, his head still pressed against your flirtatious smile while you continue to work him with your hands. “Please,” he begs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.
“You’re so good at begging,” you praise, eyes sparkling when it makes him moan lewdly. Oh, that definitely woke someone up. He’s back to bucking his hips and because you’re so kind, you let him dictate the pace as you continue pumping.
“So close,” he breathes shakily. “I’m so close, please.”
“Please, what?”
His eyes roll back, and the arms of his chair finally give way, crumbling under his crushing grip as impressions of his hands mould into the metal. Donnie doesn’t stop rocking and whimpering. “Please let me come.”
You kiss the head of his cock once more, delighting in the way he tremors at the whisper of touch. “Be a good boy and come for me, Donatello.”
There’s nothing Donnie loves more than being good for you and he shows this by coming undone the second his name leaves your lips, body jolting and convulsing like he's been struck by lightning as you continue to milk his cock while his orgasm wracks through him. Your face is completely covered, ropes of his come painting your skin as he groans pitifully, the sound agonised and mewling.
It’s almost silent for a few moments, the only noises are Donnie’s wheezing pants and whimpers of oversensitivity, and you watch him quietly. He’s so beautiful like this, blissed out, stress a stranger rather than a constant companion, and you wish you could both stay like this.
The moment is over too soon as the terrapin manages to open his eyes blearily, although they nearly shut again in dizzying satisfaction when he catches sight of your come-smeared cheeks. It’s dripping down your chin, threatening to spill down your neck and to your chest, and a part of you wants to leave it, relishing in the way Donnie is entirely transfixed, but you scoop what you can on your fingers and bring the sticky threads to your mouth instead.
Donnie’s lips part and his breath hitches and it’s your turn to shut your eyes in pleasure, eyes rolling and unable to stop a soft groan as you lick and swallow what he’s given you. “Mean,” he accuses again when you finally open your eyes, and you grin at how faint he sounds.
“Just for you,” you agree and he churrs instinctively, flushing as you snicker. He’s so cute, you think fondly, letting him reach out and grasp you closer, seeking comfort. And so easy.
“I think I need that nap now,” Donnie tells you weakly, and you huff another laugh against his sweaty skin, tasting salt and nuzzling further into him.
You press a loving kiss to his shoulder and reluctantly pull back. “Shower then bed, come on.” His legs are shaky, and you purse your lips to stop from chuckling as he stumbles like a newborn lamb, begrudgingly relenting to leaning against you. “Poor Bambi,” you tease, brushing your lips against his plastron in a loving caress when he grumbles playfully.
Hopefully, no one has been awoken by your night-time activities and, if they have, you hope they’re not up and roaming because you’d really rather not have to bump into any of Donnie’s family with his come still coating your face.
#tmnt#tmnt x reader#tmnt bayverse#tmnt imagine#tmnt donatello#bayverse tmnt#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt donatello x reader#donatello x reader#donnie x reader#donatello#tmnt donatello smut#tmnt donnie#tmnt donatello x reader smut#tmnt smut#bayverse donatello#bayverse donnie#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt 2014#tmnt 2016#donnie tmnt#tmnt donnie smut
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Hiii I just found your acc and really like your stuff! Can I pls request lazy morning sex with Jing Yuan (and any character you think might fit this prompt) I just looked and there is not one fic like this of this man when he's like... right there. He's like so perfect for this scenario. Thank you sm and have a great day/night! <3
i just finished writing this its 3am i think i blacked out. everybody give it up for my man jing yuan i need himSO BAAAAD AAHHH i hope u like this nonnie ♡♡ cw: nsfw, mdni. semi-clothed sx, soft dom jy, clt stimulation, size kink if you squint, praise, pet names, slight overstimulation, cuddling n fucking face-to-face, riding, creampie. /not proofread ill do that in the morning. dies/ includes: fem reader, jing yuan, fu xuan mentionned wc: 3,2k
You loved and hated waking up next to Jing Yuan in the morning. On one hand, the rhythm of his beating heart lulls you to sleep, and he makes for a wonderful personal heater; but on the other... he’s a little too comfortable. So much so that every time you sleep with him, you, without fail, end up being late for work. That, or you barely make it in time. At times you would point your finger at him and accuse him of being a wholesome, sleepy version of an incubus, and he would laugh in that smooth, baritone voice of his.
Regardless.
This morning was one of those mornings, of course. Jing Yuan came back home for the first time in two weeks the night before- being the general of the Luofu means that he would occasionally have to leave for an unknown amount of time to take care of business. Every time he had to leave, you’d linger around him a little longer than usual, wrap your arms around him tighter than you normally would and let your lips linger on his cheek long enough for the sun to rise completely.
He’d come back so late last night that you were already sleeping in your shared bed, legs haphazardly thrown over the bed sheets in a poor attempt to regulate your body temperature. The button-up shirt you wore made his heart lunge in his throat in the best way, but the last thing he wanted was to wake you. So, he’d carefully remove his armored uniform, take his shirt off and slip into the bed with you with nothing but his briefs on, and pull you into his chest. You had unconsciously nuzzled closer to him, your body craving the warmth of his body you had missed oh so dearly.
Which explained the situation you were now in. The dilemma you found yourself stuck in. Jing Yuan was back; you had your face mere millimeters away from his plush chest, his arms held you tight against him, and his soft snores almost convinced you to fall back asleep. Keyword; almost.
As much as you loved him you knew that he’d be here once you came back from work, so with as much resolve as you could muster, you try wriggling your way out of his grip. With him being as big as he was, though, it didn’t surprise you when he tightened his hold on you, treating you as if you were his plushie threatening to fall off his bed and he was a child.
You let out a quiet oof from his strong grip and reevaluate your options. There weren’t many options, but at least you had choices; either you wake him up, convince him to let you go and then get to work early enough that you don’t risk getting written up again, or you let him hold you and... arrive at work late. Again. Which was the last thing you wanted, given the fact that your boss had specifically told you that she couldn’t allow you to miss another meeting.
Step one was to summon the ability to be even more stubborn than your lover. Step two is to carefully wriggle your arms up, high enough that you can move your hands and you can use them to your advantage against the beast. It took you some time, given the fact that they were stuck between his and your body, but you succeeded, nonetheless. And you only got one displeased grunt from the sleeping general in response.
As you’re about to proceed with step three, Jing Yuan cracks an eye open and buries his head into the crook of your neck while curling into you, effectively trapping you between his plush muscles and the duvet.
Could have gone better.
“Jing Yuan,” you huff, your voice sounding more like a whine than anything. The general doesn’t respond, leading you to believe he fell asleep again, but his morning voice graces your ears before you have the time to curse him out. “Mhm, I’m up,” he hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck in a false apology.
You wriggle in response, grunting from the sheer effort. One of the downsides that came with cuddling with Jing Yuan was the way he could keep you right there with him as long as he wanted, curse his strength.
Seeing as he wasn’t going to budge, you decide that two can play that game. You stare into his silky mop of silver hair, pondering whether you should negotiate your freedom or if you should play dirty- but where's the fun in trying to talk your way out of this predicament? You bring a hand up to gently brush his bangs away from his face. He makes a soft noise of contentment at the feeling of your fingers delicately brushing against his face and, before he can grow too comfortable, you lean in and bite his cheek.
The general makes a noise of surprise, grunting as he pulls away from you to narrow his eyes at his perpetrator. His pout morphs into a lazy smile as he holds your glare. “If you wanted to play you could have just said so, sweetheart,” he says lowly, moving his free hand from your back to letting it rest lazily on your hips, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the exposed skin.
You stick your tongue out at him stubbornly, “Not now, I have to get up.” Unfazed by your headstrong attitude, Jing Yuan shifts one of his legs to come between yours- his strong thigh sandwiched between your soft ones. A surprised gasp leaves your lips in response to the smooth way he molds his body to yours, but you refuse to allow yourself to be swayed by him.
“Aeons- ‘Yuan please,” you huff quietly, but he notices the way your voice catches in your throat. His golden eyes briefly shine with what could only be described as mischief and, with a smooth motion, Jing Yuan grabs ahold of your shoulder and swivels you around so that your back is against his chest. A surprised oof rips from your throat as you bounce lightly on the bed from the impact- he lowers his face to yours, a rich, deep chuckle echoing in your ears as your resolve begins to melt away.
Taking advantage of the new position, Jing Yuan throws a leg over yours to trap you in and, in turn, grinds his growing bulge against your ass. If he wasn’t hard at the sight of your face in the morning when he first woke up, he sure was now; while he slowly ruts against you, he allows his hands to wander down to the hem of your shirt.
You stifle a moan as the metaphorical dam in your head begins to crumble apart. Sure, you would see him when you would get back home later, but you were with him now. Laying here with your lover, safe and comfortable in his arms while his clothed erection lazily thrusts up into your heat.
As you let out needy whines that you aren’t even aware you’re voicing, Jing Yuan brings his lips closer to your ear. “Five more minutes?” he asks with a knowing smile, his own breath becoming more and more rugged the more he rubs up against you. Gods, he could feel you throbbing through his sweatpants and your panties.
You swallow thickly and whine in response, your head already fogging up with desire. Going a whole two weeks without sex wasn’t particularly hard; you had your trusty toy with you and your hands if it happened to run out of battery and you were that desperate. But you weren’t- and during these past two weeks you had felt just fine, totally not pent up or even the slightest bit sexually frustrated. Your job had kept you busy, but when you’re stuck in Jing Yuan’s arms after not feeling him for so long, after not feeling his cock twitching inside you, you felt like something snapped inside you.
Distantly, you think about how pathetic this must look for him; only a few lingering touches and his hips pressing up against yours from the back and that’s all it takes for you to drench your panties. But really, you couldn’t care less. You knew he was just as pent up as you were.
You bring one of your hands down to fumble with the hem of your panties to quickly take them off, down your legs. Hearing Jing Yuan’s hoarse breathing in your ears only made you even more eager to feel his skin right up against yours. Maybe part of the reason why you were so incredibly turned on was because of how tired you still felt, but either way, you needed him. And he needed you just as badly.
The general’s hands leave you temporarily to slide his sweatpants down to his thighs, low enough for his cock to leave its confines. Precum builds at the tip, swollen and pulsing with the need to bury itself inside you. He sighs, one of his hands coming up to stroke his length, thumb sliding over the slit every time his fist comes up. You whine at the loss of his hands on you and reach back to take his hand, bringing it between your legs to rub your clit. He laughs at your impatience, shifting his weight on his other arm to lean over you properly.
“Someone’s impatient and greedy,” he goads. “I thought you wanted to get to work, darling,” he purrs in your ear, his middle and ring finger coming together to tease your bud, riling you up further and making a mess between your legs. A strained fuck leaves your lips as you back your ass up into him, his hard cock tucked between your thighs, rubbing into your arousal. “Please just-” a whimper interrupts you as Jing Yuan increases the pace of his fingers, “-inside. I-I need to feel you,” you huff, feeling too empty. He considers teasing you some more, listening to the wet sounds of your pussy bounce off the walls of your shared bedroom, but his own patience was also waning thin.
A quiet noise of protest leaves you when the man takes his hand away from your bud. He brings his fingers up to his lips to lick your slick off of them, moaning at the taste. Your thighs clench in response, jerking the general’s cock unintentionally.
“Fuck,” he growls into your ear, hurriedly taking his length into his hand to guide it into your soaking wet cunt. Your mouth hangs open when you feel his tip slip between your lips, needy noises slipping from your mouth. Inch after inch he sinks into you, slowly letting you accommodate to his girth. He finally bottoms out, stretching your hole as you keen and whine from the satisfaction of feeling so full.
He waits a few beats to allow you to get used to him, your hoarse breathing matching his own. When he feels you clamping down on him less, he starts to thrust- pulling out slowly and thrusting back in sharply. You moan aloud, mouth agape as his cock bullies your spongy walls relentlessly.
“Jing Yua-aan,” you whimper, hands gripping onto his forearms weakly, nails forming crescent shapes into his skin. He reduces you to a sleepy, blabbering, moaning mess as the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the bedroom. With one hand splayed across your lower tummy, he presses down, making you arch your back into him from the sudden added pressure and pleasure.
“Y’ like that? You missed me, huh?” he taunts, though his own voice trails off into a needy moan the more he feels the drag of your walls along his cock. “I know I’ve- fuck, m-missed you,” Jing Yuan stutters, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he feels a familiar coil form in his abdomen. His thigh muscles clench as he wills away his orgasm, needing to feel you all around him for a bit longer.
Unable to respond you simply nod dumbly, the words leaving your brain as it’s reduced to mush. Your lover hums, a smirk stretching his lips, “Yeah?” He brings his face closer to yours, your breaths tangling with each other before he smashes his lips against yours, the angle awkward and uncomfortable. But you don’t care- the added stimulation makes you melt as you crane your head back to kiss him properly, your lips occasionally leaving his from the force of his thrusts.
Jing Yuan moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss. He looks at you with pure lust swirling in his golden eyes, your face sinful and needy. An idea pops up in the general’s mind and he smiles down at you, pressing one last chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Ah, w-what are you-” you slur, your sentence interrupted by the general manhandling you to switch positions. He kicks the sheets off completely and places both of his large hands on your waist, gripping you firmly as he lays on his back, placing you on top him. His cock slips out of your walls with a wet shlick and you whine at the feeling of being so suddenly empty, twisting your body so that your thighs straddle his hips. Jing Yuan looks up at you with a small, cat-like smirk and your breath catches in your throat.
His silky hair splayed out on the pillows beneath him, cheeks flushed, and eyes piercing into yours made your knees buckle and you suddenly froze in your movements. Feeling your pussy throb against him, Jing Yuan chuckles heartily, one of his hands leaving your waist to stroke his hard cock, your slick dripping down on him.
“Lift your hips up and sit on my cock, darling,” he orders softly, a stark contrast to the way he looks at you- with pure, unfiltered lust and adoration. Your body moves automatically as you obey, hovering your tight pussy over his swollen tip, and lower yourself down. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, and you feel his girth stretching you out again as you begin to bounce on his hard cock.
“Yeahh just like that,” he hums, the hand that held his length moving up to rest on your stomach, thumb jutting out to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. You squeak in surprise, your body jolting forward, and place your hands over his plush chest for balance. “Feels good, baby? Feel how deep my cock is?”
A moan leaves his kiss-bitten lips and you swear you physically felt yourself get pushed closer to your nearing orgasm, the noises leaving his lips amplifying your pleasure tenfold. “Taking me so well, look at that pretty pussy,” he coos, and you keen as his half-lidded eyes burn into yours. He feels your walls clench in response to the praise and flashes you a dangerous smirk; he places his feet flat on the bed and tightens his grip on your waist to buck his hips up, making you topple over him. Your gaze is unfocused and blurry as you look down at him, heavy breaths leaving your lips, tears threatening to roll down your rosy cheeks from the pace he set.
“And look at you,” he whispers lovingly under his breath. Jing Yuan throws his head back deeper into the pillows, keeping his eyes on you as he watches you lose yourself to the addicting feeling of his cock bullying your sopping cunt. “Y-Yuan,” you whine, your climax threatening to rip through you as you bite your lip to stifle your needy moans. He tuts, leaning up to bite your lip to pull you out of your pleasure-filled daze.
“Pay attention to me darling. Thaat’s it, let 'em out for me.” The general huffs, brows furrowing in concentration to focus on the feeling of your warm walls surrounding him, sucking him in endlessly. His thumb presses down onto your clit roughly to bring you closer to your orgasm; you whimper in turn, a chorus of oh fuck and please’s leaving your puffy lips. “I-I’m so close,” you whine, eyelids fluttering shut as you feel your control leaving your body, the tight coil of your orgasm threatening to snap.
Jing Yuan groans, hips bucking up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he keeps up the pace, persistent. “Come on, give it to me, pretty girl.” He coos, voice breaking into a whine, close to climaxing himself. His thrusts become sloppier, and he bites his bottom lip to stifle a string of hearty, needy moans.
His hips still up into you as he cums, thick ropes of his seed painting your walls white. Jing Yuan’s thumb flicks your puffy clit until you climax as well, your cunt milking his sensitive cock. You whimper, feeling your clit buzz with overstimulation as he keeps rubbing it with purpose. “S-Stop, stooop,” you cry, your eyes burning with tears as the dull pain turns into pleasure, “Aeons you’re so tight.” Your lover slows down his movements, easing the tension in his muscles, until he stops circling your clit and gently places both of his hands on your waist. His hands slide up and down your sweaty skin, soothing the bruises that will inevitably form.
Your body slumps, exhausted and utterly spent, arms caging him as you rest your face in the crook of his neck. You both feel sticky and sweaty, but the warmth you shared made up for the need to jump in the shower to wash yourselves off. Jing Yuan shifts his hips so that his softening cock slips out of you; he inhales sharply, his cock still sensitive.
“I missed you,” you mumble quietly, voice muffled from the way you're pressed into him and the pillows and press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Yeah? I never would have guessed,” the general chuckles, arms coming up to hug you tightly, one hand placed behind your head to cradle you close to him. You hit him with a huff but then sigh, content.
“Mmh, but I missed you too, darling,” Jing Yuan replies softly. He holds you as your eyes droop, exhaustion taking ahold of your tired body. His own eyelids droop as he listens to your soft heartbeat, and soon enough, you’re both sleeping, legs tangled together while Jing Yuan’s strong arms keep you laid atop of him.
⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝
You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but you hear a phone ringing loudly in your ear, jolting you away from your peaceful dreams. You don’t recognize the tune, and as you’re about to wriggle your way out of the dozing general’s arms, he swings one arm over to the nightstand next to your bed and answers it without looking at the caller ID. “Jing Yuan speaking,” he says in a hoarse voice, eyes still closed.
Even without his phone on speaker you could make out a very loud, very shrill voice from the other side of the line, yelling out two hours late, a single mission and get your ass over here. Jing Yuan doesn’t react, the same sleepy, cat-like smile on his face as he listens to the person rant. They eventually let up and hang up, saying something you couldn’t quite catch. Your lover haphazardly tosses his phone somewhere on the bed and loops his arm back around you, nuzzling into your neck.
“Who was that?” you ask, voice cracking from how much you abused your vocal cords (apparently) two hours ago. He scoffs, amused, and pulls away just enough to speak clearly.
“Lady Fu Xuan,” he says slyly. “I should get dressed before she decides to read into my divination and sees things she probably shouldn’t.”
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