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#why do i need to honor his feelings and take care of him if he's just gnna infantalize and dehumanize me constantly
say-hwaet · 1 day
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The Dynamic Between Arthur and the Marstons (long post )
I guess I should say there are spoilers, just in case…
After playing the story through several times, I have to say, that Arthur Morgan is one of the best characters ever written. Aside from his development, there is so much depth to him, and regardless of his honor, there is so much to unravel.
I’ve been thinking about the relationship that he has between the Marstons, meaning John, Abigail, and Jack, and it really makes sense as to how Arthur acts the way he does around them in the beginning and all the way to the end.
A lot of his behavior, I think, stems from the loss of Eliza and Isaac. It is my opinion that he himself was torn between living a full life with them and remaining loyal to his gang, and before or by the time he had made a choice, it was too late, as they were killed in a robbery. This had haunted him since and it made him extremely bitter. Later in the game, he tells Rains Fall that he realized that he didn’t get to live a bad life and have good things happen to him. I also think that he was with Eliza after Mary had broken their engagement. I can get into my support for this later, but that isn’t what this post is about.
I think that Arthur was angry with John out of jealousy. He is the “golden boy” and clearly was Dutch’s favorite at one point. Not only that but after Arthur loses his own son and lover, John and Abigail get pregnant and he takes off for a year. He abandons his family, which Arthur takes personally. Arthur had tried to do right by Eliza and Isaac and still failed. So when John has Jack and is within the circle of the gang to help and support him, he takes off. Arthur gives up a potential life with Eliza and Isaac for Loyalty to the gang and John throws it all away. When John comes back, Dutch welcomes him with open arms, and Arthur believes that he would have been held to a different standard if he had come back after being with Eliza and Isaac for a long time. And it doesn’t help that John treats Jack like crap in the beginning of RDR2.
Arthur, imo, was a good father to Isaac when he was present. We can see this in how he treats Jack. In Arthur’s journal, he writes how he should have married Abigail, but due to his feelings for Mary, he didn’t. I’m not sure why after years of not hearing from Mary he would say this, but meh. Perhaps, the hope of starting over, or that she did pop in again at some point (which is how Abigail might have met her?). Anyways. I think he says he should have married her so that she would have someone to rely on and that he could be the father Jack needed. He cares about Abigail, but I don’t think it is anything beyond that. Arthur seemed to me not to be one to be with a woman without some sort of relationship, based upon how he treats women and the prostitutes in Valentine, so I don’t think he was ever with Abigail. Even so, Abigail relies on Arthur, and while he puts up a front, he gives her money for clothing and spends time with Jack. Heck, he even tells John to step up and be a dad. In some of Arthur’s conversations with John, he tells him that he can’t be two people at once. He’s speaking from experience. I think he’s subtly telling John he needs to make a choice as to what life he’s going to live. Hosea and Arthur both tell Abigail and John to leave at parts of the game.
When Jack is kidnapped, and eventually rescued, I think it is one of the most heart-wrenching missions and scenes. I can see it in Arthur’s body language that he longs for the family that he once had. He’s alone in his pain and when everyone is celebrating, Arthur doesn’t sing with the gang; there isn’t even the option to do it like it does other times. Even in my first playthrough, it seemed so sad to me. Everyone was drinking and singing, but Arthur just looked so sad.
So, it is at this point that John starts to step up, and Arthur starts to show symptoms of his illness. When he learns of his diagnosis, Arthur’s eyes open to the reality of the gang’s downfall, and he acknowledges the doubts/reservations he has about Dutch’s plans and schemes. He isn’t blindly loyal anymore. He tries to get John, Abigail, and Jack out, so that they can have the life that he had lost due to loyalty to the gang. He continually tells John to get out and that it would mean a lot to him. In his journal, after rescuing John from prison, he writes in his journal “…We’ve argued over the years, but I’ve grown to care a little for [John]. He’s less of a fool than he was, and maybe he can have the luck that has eluded me. Jack is an innocent little boy. In him, I see what I missed [meaning Isaac]. We did it.” This speaks volumes to me about how he feels about them in the end. He sacrifices himself to let John live. And though it isn’t forever, Arthur dies believing that he made it, and that matters. And hopefully, he could finally be at peace and see Eliza and Isaac again.
I could keep going, but I think I am too long-winded. I guess that helps when writing fleshed-out fanfiction stories, but not for posts. LOL
Would love to hear other thoughts or opinions, I’m always keen for a discussion.
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bunnihearted · 9 months
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ughhhh i hate the she's so cute when shes angry. no emotion or feeling is ever taken ssly when ur a woman, they always reduce everything abt u to ur physical appearance
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
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Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later
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Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader
Word Count: 3,1k
Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...
Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now
Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍
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You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.
“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.
“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.
Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.
Because of your never-ending sickness.
“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”
“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.
You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.
“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.
“Thank you for your help. Again.”
You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.
“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.
“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.
Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.
Right?
-at the wind hashira estate-
“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”
Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.
“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.
“Was it really that bad?”
Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…
“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“
Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?
“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.
“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.
Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.
Until your eyes find Genya.
Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…
“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.
Maybe that is even worse.
Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.
“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.
An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.
Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.
But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.
In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.
“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.
Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.
“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”
Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.
Straight towards the two boys.
Straight into the firing line.
Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.
“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.
“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.
“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”
The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.
“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.
Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…
“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.
But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.
“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.
He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.
“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”
Oh.
Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.
Until now.
“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“
“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.
“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”
It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?
“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“
“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.
“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“
You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.
The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.
“Is this how you���re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.
And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.
You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.
-a few hours later-
“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.
Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.
But why did he say all those dumb things, then?
“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.
“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.
What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.
“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“
“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”
“Did you ask her, though?”
“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.
“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”
Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?
Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.
Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-
His eyes widen in sheer horror.
You’re gone.
Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.
Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.
Did you leave?
He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.
“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”
Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.
“Is she fine, why did she-“
“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“
“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“
“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”
Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.
Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?
“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.
-at Mitsuri’s-
“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.
Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.
“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.
“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”
Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?
“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.
“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”
Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.
And reveals no other than your husband.
“Sanemi”, you breathe out.
Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?
“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.
“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.
“What?”
Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.
“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.
Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.
“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.
You turn away before you lose your composure completely.
“Why are you here, Sanemi?”
“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”
In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.
“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“
“(y/n), please.”
His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.
Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.
Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?
“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”
“Sanemi…”
“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“
“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.
“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.
“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”
“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”
That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.
“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.
“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”
“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”
Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.
“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.
“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”
“No problem, I’ll carry you-“
“You really don’t have to carry me-“
“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”
“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”
“Did you have to tell her everything?”
“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”
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woodlandscab1n · 1 year
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Losing my shit at people not understanding Shadow The Hedgehog and SONIC the hedgehog I'll maul you I'll do it!!!
#especially the ones that think that SONIC OF ALL FUCKING PEOPLE would be crying out of hopeleness. sonic IS hope and he knows that#sonic is okay with Crying but he doesn't fucking cry out of a 8 year old screaming at him and taking the only key to restoring his friends#he will just go. alright guess i gotta keep going. keep being better. lets go shadow#and it isn't out of ignoring his own emotions i bet he feels sad and he will express that that was a bummer but. his friends need him!#and that includes nines!#and shadow.#ppl thinking that he doesn't live his life for himself and for maria only?? HAVE YOU WATCHED'?? SHTH???#the ENDINg?? to the TRUE ending?#he lets maria go. he lets his past life go. he lets it gooo let it gooo#and now he lives only for himself. AND NO THIS DOESN'T MEAN HE DOESN'T HONOR MARIA OR SUDDENLY DOESN'T CARE ABOUT HER#ofc he fucking does but he doesn't NEED to live FOR her. it isn't about her anymore. in sa2 it was. in heroes until shth it was#to know who he was and why he was here#he found it. its to keep living. to keep order because he IS the ultimate lifeform.#but he doesn't need anyone or anything to make life worth it#shadow can be a bit childish and full of himself or be like if i am not the ultimate lifeform then who am i. or sometimes give up for the#greater good#but he always finds. no. i am me. i am Shadow and that is ENOUGH to be the ultimate lifeform#he is SHADOW THE FUCKING HEDGEHOG!!! THE ULTIMATE LIFEFORM AND YOU WILL FALL UNDER HIM!!1!#TF DO U THINK I AM I AM ALL OF ME WAS FORR#anyways i love shadow the hedgehog#and sonic the hedgehog for some reason people cannot understand these characters even tho they are SO easy to
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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months
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do you believe me now? | 3
in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!
You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 
It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 
You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 
“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”
He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 
“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 
Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 
“Uh… four hours ago.”
“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”
He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 
“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”
You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 
“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”
His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 
“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”
Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 
“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”
Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 
“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 
You kiss his cheek. 
“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”
It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 
“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”
You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.
“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”
The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”
“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”
“You seem exhausted.”
“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.
Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.
“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 
Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 
“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”
Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”
“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”
Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 
“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”
“Um…”
Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 
“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 
His eyebrows raise. 
“I’m sure, honey.”
“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 
“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”
It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 
“Nothing. I just missed you.”
“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”
The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”
A slow smile spreads over your face. 
“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”
You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 
“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”
“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”
“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”
“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”
You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 
“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”
Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 
“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”
It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 
“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”
“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 
“Yeah? Like what?”
And just like that, you’re shy again. 
“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”
“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”
And how could you ever deny him anything? 
As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 
“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”
Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 
Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 
“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”
“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”
A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 
“You okay?”
You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 
“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”
It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 
“Do you want to?”
Woah. 
Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  
You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 
“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”
Show you how? 
Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 
“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 
“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”
You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 
“Got it.”
He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 
“Scoot back a little, angel.”
Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—
Your breath catches. 
Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 
So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 
The size sinks in a quick second later. 
You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?
No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 
“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 
Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”
Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 
“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 
“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  
“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”
It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 
“Okay. What do I do?”
“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”
You look up, alarmed. 
“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”
“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 
Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 
“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 
“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”
Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 
“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 
“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”
“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 
“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”
Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”
You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”
Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 
“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 
“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 
For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 
“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”
“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?
“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”
You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 
“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”
“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 
“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”
“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”
“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 
“Because I like to listen.”
“What if I do, too?”
In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 
“Jesus, fuck.”
You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 
Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 
You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah, baby?”
He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 
His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 
“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”
“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”
Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.
“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”
Wide eyes dart up to his. 
“Really?”
Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 
“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”
“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”
“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 
Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 
“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 
“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 
“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”
Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 
“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”
You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 
“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”
“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 
“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”
“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 
You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.
From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 
“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”
You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 
“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 
Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 
You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”
You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 
“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 
“It’s okay, Spence, I—”
“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”
“Do you care what I think at all?”
Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 
“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”
It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 
“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 
“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”
He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 
“That was really good, baby. You did well.”
You blossom. 
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t lie.”
“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 
I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 
Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.
Fuck. 
He really wants to tell you right now. 
“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”
“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 
It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 
“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”
“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”
You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 
“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”
Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 
“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”
“Oh.”
Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 
“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”
“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”
Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 
“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”
Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 
“What got you all excited?”
“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 
“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”
You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.
“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”
“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”
Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 
“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 
“Stand up.”
You frown. 
“But—”
“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 
You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 
“Why?”
“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 
As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—
But no. 
There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—
“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”
“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 
“Sit.”
“You want me to…”
“Yes,” he says, simply. 
“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”
“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”
Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 
“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 
“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”
Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 
“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 
“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?
“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 
“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”
You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 
“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”
You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 
“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 
“Yeah? Does it?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”
It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 
“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 
“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”
You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 
“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”
You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 
“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”
“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.
“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”
But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.
You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.
“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”
In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.
And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.
-
part 3.5
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kaiijo · 2 months
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HOT THINGS HE DOES — [WIND BREAKER]
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characters: sakura haruka, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, togame jo  content: gn! reader, reader has smaller hands than hiragi notes: i love them, your honor 
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sakura haruka ✶
runs his hand through his hair. sakura doesn’t know why you watch him so intently when he cards his fingers through his hair. in his mind, he’s just trying to get his bangs out of his face but to you, he looks so effortlessly cool
he’ll definitely get flustered if you voice your thoughts to him while giving him a long once-over. he definitely starts blushing and stuttering and looking anywhere but your eyes with crossed arms. he’s actually short circuiting and you take the opportunity to run your own hand through his hair, feeling the smooth flow of his locks between fingers. 
nirei akihiko ✶
very perceptive of your needs. it’s like he can read your mind. you need a bottle of water? nirei’s already handing it to you. you want a sweet treat? nirei’s already bought it from your favorite bakery. you wanted to get a limited-edition keychain but they ran out at the store? don’t worry — nirei’s already bought matching ones for you
there’s something about how in-tune he is with you that has your face warming and a smile breaking across your face. you’re just as in-tune with him and his needs as he is with yours 
suo hayato ✶
always smells good. suo takes care of himself and has a nice natural scent, but when he wears his favorite cologne, he smells nice and clean and good. it makes your heart jump when you catch the notes of his cologne and you like to bury your face in his neck when he wears it (and maybe kiss his neck a little too)
his cologne also lingers on many items of clothing — shirts, sweaters, coats — which results in you stealing a bunch of his things so that you can keep his scent around you when he’s not with you 
kiryu mitsuki ✶
hand on the back. kiryu guides you around with a hand on your back, making sure that you are with him and comfortable and safe. it makes your heart skip a beat when he places a hand on your lower back, his palm warm even through your clothes
you especially love when you’re on a romantic dinner date and his hand in on your lower back as he leads you to your table, still holding you as he slides your chair out. you can’t stop the little giggle that bubbles in the back of your throat 
umemiya hajime ✶
gardening shirtless. there are two parts to this — one, you love that umemiya gardens and how attentive he is to his plants; two, you love when he does it shirtless. umemiya looks like he was carved by the gods and it’s always hot to watch him pull weeds, water the plants, and hum to them the sun’s making his bare skin glow 
you also like when he stands up to wipe sweat off his brow and you get to see the way the sweat glistens on his skin. it makes you contemplate dragging him away from his gardening for some personal time 
hiragi toma ✶
 comparing hand sizes. hiragi hands are so big and nimble and you especially love how big they are compared to yours. he doesn’t understand your obsession with grabbing his hand and pressing your palm against his
he indulges you whenever you ask him to compare hand sizes, fingers curling over the tips of yours. you know that his hand is bigger than yours but it makes your light-headed to see the real thing 
kaji ren ✶
stands up for you. kaji is the one to advocate for you when you won’t do it yourself and there nothing you find more appealing. there’s something so attractive about him when he tells your waiter that you didn’t order a certain item or something else like this. he’s not mean or aggressive, simply direct and firm when he does so
it makes you feel cared for and that someone is looking out for you. kaji also holds steady eye contact when he makes his request and there’s a steel to his gaze that sets your face aflame 
togame jo ✶
casual lean against the doorframe. but not just any door frame lean; togame does the book boyfriend lean, with a forearm braced against the doorframe and him slanting toward you to best listen to whatever you’re saying. he so attentive and confident when he does that you can’t help the way your heart skips a beat and your eyes involuntarily flutter when you meet his eyes. 
he also knows the effect this has on you so sometimes he’ll cage you in between the wall and his body, one arm above your head. he gives you a small lazy smirk and it has you pulling him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss
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ariestrxsh · 2 months
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⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, masturbation, fingering, praise, corruption of innocence
✍️ Summary: ✍️ You keep experiencing a tingly wet sensation between your legs, and you ask your best friend Matt to help you figure out how to get rid of it.
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show me how part one
"Matt, I think I need to go to a doctor," you looked at Matt wide-eyed and concerned. The two of you were sitting on your bed in your room on your fluffy pink comforter, sitting side-by-side. "Why do you think that?" Your best friend Matt asked with a sympathy in his voice, rubbing your back. "I'm so embarrassed to say. I'm only telling you because I trust you, and I need a second opinion on whether I should go get checked out or not," You bit your lip while you looked up innocently at him. "What's the matter? You can tell me anything," he caressed your cheek. You looked at him nervously.
"I think something's wrong down there," you confided in him, lowering your voice. "How do you mean? What's the problem?" He asked, looking at you inquisitively. "It's hard to describe.. it starts to throb and get all wet, and it makes me think about things I wouldn't normally think about. It's almost like an itch that I can't quite scratch," you responded, looking down at your feet. "Does it feel that way right now?" He wanted to know, starting to stare at your lips. You nodded. "Is it okay if I show it to you? I just want to make sure nothing's wrong," you asked him, your face beginning to blush. "Of course, sweetheart," Matt smirked.
You stood up, reached under the skirt of your pink dress, and slowly pulled down your lace panties. You sat back down on the bed, facing Matt, and you lifted your dress and spread open your legs so he could get a better look. You watched Matt's reaction while his gaze danced over your sleek sex. "Wow, you're so wet," he commented. His eyes widened, and he licked his lips. "I know. That can't be normal. And it feels all tingly," you confided in him, wearing your concern on your face. He couldn't help but study the view before him. The way you were looking at him urgently, the way your legs parted, and the way you were exposing your shaven pussy to him, it was intoxicating.
"Oh, princess. This is perfectly normal. I promise. You don't need to see a doctor," Matt assured you, admiring what he saw and placing a hand on your thigh to spread you open even further. "Normal? Well, how do I take care of it?" You bit your lip. "Well, you can either wait it out, and it'll eventually go away, or you can be proactive about it, and make it go away faster," Matt looked up at you with his hungry blue eyes. "It's such an uncomfortable feeling. I want it gone as soon as possible," you said, peering down at the wetness.
"Have you ever touched yourself, princess?" Matt asked, picturing the glorious sight in his head, his voice becoming more sensual as he spoke to you. "You mean, down there?" You innocently asked, and Matt nodded. "No, I don't think so," you admitted. "You'd know if you had," he chuckled. "Here, let me show you what to do."
He gripped your thighs and pulled you closer to him, and you let out a small squeal as he manhandled you. He tugged you from a sitting position to a reclined position, and your head rested on the soft, pink pillow beneath you. He got down between your legs with his face only a few inches from it, and he began to spread open your pussy to examine how pretty it looked up close. "You're just really turned on, princess. It happens to everyone. All you've gotta do, is take your fingers, and start playing with it, like this," he whispered, teasing your slit with his touch.
"Oh wow," you responded to the sensation. "You really are wet, sweetheart. Has anyone ever touched you down here before?" He wondered, and you shook your head. "Well, I'm honored to be the first. I'm gonna make it feel so good for you," he whispered, smiling up at you. He loved that he got to the first set of fingers that ventured into your most intimate parts and that he even got to teach you about them.
"You feel this little spot right here, princess?" Matt cooed, brushing the tip of his finger across your clit. You let out a soft whine and shook your head yes at him. "That's your clitoris. You know there are more nerve endings right here than anywhere else in your body?" Matt continued to stroke it, applying a little more compression. You could barely focus on responding because you were so enveloped in your pleasure. All you could do was reply with a few whimpers. "That's why it feels so good when I play with it," he devilishly smiled up at you.
"The best part is, you can do it yourself, and the more you practice, the better you'll get at it," he said in a breathy voice. "And I can do it whenever I want?" You naively asked, your eyes lighting up. "I mean, kind of," he chuckled. "Just don't do it in public or if other people are around. Some people consider it rude," he warned you. "Can I do it in front of you?" You wondered. "Oh, princess. Of course you can. Anytime," Matt grinned mischievously at you. "Can I try right now?" You asked, eager to learn how to make yourself feel as good as Matt made you feel. "Yes, please do," he whispered.
You enthusiastically reached between your legs. "Oh my god. It's so wet. My hand just slips around on it," you said in shock. He loved how responsive and innocent you were, surprised and entertained by every new touch. You rubbed yourself with the lightness of a feather, and it felt nice, but not as good as when Matt had done it. Your expression changed to one of concentration mixed with a bit of frustration.
"What's wrong, princess?" Matt watched intently while your fingers discovered your bundle of nerves for the first time. "It's not as good as when you did it," I looked down at him, defeated. "That's okay, sweetheart. You just gotta try out different techniques. Play with the pressure. Figure out what you like. Like this," he whispered as he guided your hand and pushed down a bit. "Oh," you whined as he helped you find the pressure you liked. "Good girl," Matt responded, noticing the change in your demeanor. "Now play around with the speed. Do you like it fast or slow?" He asked you, and so you started to test it out. You worked your fingers faster, but it didn't give you the incredible feeling you were chasing, so you slowed down, covering a little more surface area.
Your mouth fell open, and the muscles in your forehead relaxed. "There you go. Now play around with the shapes that you draw, princess," Matt suggested. Instead of just rubbing your clit up and down, you started to play with it horizontally, which sent a wave of pleasure through your body. "Try making circles," Matt proposed, biting his lip. You let out a few satisfied moans as you made slow, powerful, counter-clockwise circles on your clit, and Matt couldn't keep his eyes off you. He was watching in real time as you figured out exactly how you liked having your pussy played with, and you couldn't have done it without him.
The more you teased your sweet cunt, the wetter you got. "Is it normal for me to be this wet?" You inquired. "Yes, sweetheart. It's gonna get wetter as you play with it until you're done," he advised me. "How come?" You asked, still playing with your sensitive nub. "Your body does that, so that if you wanted to put something in here, it goes in easily," Matt rested his finger on your entrance. "Why would I wanna do that?" You asked, looking skeptically at Matt. "Because it feels really good," Matt smiled up at you. "Really?" You wondered, your eyes growing wide, imagining how you possibly feel better than you already do. "Keep playing with your pretty pussy, princess. I'm gonna show you how good it feels to have something inside you," Matt responded. "It might be a little painful at first. Just bare with me, okay? Once you get used to it, you're gonna feel so good," Matt promised.
He took his middle finger and gently massaged your hole before slowly burrowing it inside you. You winced at the pressure you felt as he slipped it in. "Oh, sweet girl, you're so tight," Matt gasped as he felt the way you clenched around him. He was gentle with you, ever so tenderly beginning to curl his finger inside and working it back and forth. After a few minutes, your pained cries turned to desperate moans. "You feel good, pretty girl?" He murmured. "Yes, so good," you whispered, rubbing your clit and looking into Matt's eyes while he slowly thrust his finger into your virgin hole. "I'm gonna try to put one more in, okay? Same thing, it's gonna sting for a second, but if you can hold on for a few minutes, it's gonna feel even better than it does right now," his blue eyes locked on yours while he inserted his ring finger as well.
Matt's words held true. A couple minutes later, both his digits were working in and out of you, and you were whimpering fervently as the pain melded into pleasure. "Oh, Matt. You're making me feel so good," you cried out as you began to buck your hips and ride his fingers. The circles you drew on your clit became tighter and faster. Watching the way you couldn't hold still or keep quiet was driving Matt insane. He admired the way you started leaking onto his digits in the midst of you chasing for that sweet feeling of relief.
His erection was pinned against the bed beneath him while he watched you come undone for the very first time. An unfamiliar experience overcame you. It was overwhelming and earth-shattering. Your whole body shuddered while you released all your built up tension, and you were in shambles, moaning uncontrollably between Matt's fingers deep in your cunt and yours rubbing small, fast circles on your clit. Your climax hit you in powerful waves as Matt got lost in you, your sweet sounds, your gaze fixed on his, and how gorgeous you looked when you finally let go and gave in to the sensation. You death-gripped the soft pink blanket underneath you with your free hand while you began rhythmically pulsating around his fingers as you finished onto them. "Oh, Matt," you whispered as you started to come down from your high. Your body had been waiting your whole life to feel that way.
"It worked. All the tension is gone, and it felt amazing. Thank you," you said breathlessly. "Good girl. You taste so sweet," he cooed, licking his fingers clean while he held eye contact. I blushed. "Thanks for teaching me," you smiled at him. "Of course. You deserve to feel good. The next time you get all turned on, use those tricks I taught you, and then tell me how it goes," Matt said with a twinkle in his eye.
part two posted here 💖
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ghostssimp · 3 months
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Aegon Targaryen//The Right One
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As a daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you were supposed to find a man who would take your hand in marrige. It's your duty to be wed away. Your grandfather Viserys, he made a royal gathering to find the best suitor for you.
The real problem is, you had one in your eyes.
Aegon Targaryen. Your uncle. It looked like history was repeating itself, thinking how your mother fell for Daemon. Targaryens always had traditions that others found weird, but to keep the blood pure, sometimes you have to do what you have to do. Even Alicent, who first was against it, was thinking of marrige between Aegon and Haelena. In the end, Haelena got married to Aemond.
As you stand in the corner of the room, you see how a lot of men are having their eyes on you. Eating ypu with the looks of desire and need for power. You were just a pawn to them. Greedy bastards only wanted to have a little part in the game of getting closer to the crown. The sad truth is that they had no idea what it meant to be on the top.
You're always watched. Can't have a moment for yourself. Every step that you take is carefully watched by everyone. Every desicion is important and there is no place for mistakes. And as for women? You knew you were here for them to just spread your legs and give them a new heir. They didn't care for you. They didn't want you for love. Just to use you.
"Pretty boring out here, isn't it princess?" There is a low voice next to your ear and you can't help but smile as shiver runs down your spine. "I should be honored, my prince." Your eyes met his lilac. "After all, this is for my engagement."
Aegon scoffs, his eyes scanning the place. "Yes, but to whom?" His eyebrow rises as he takes a step closer, brushing the lock of hair from your face. "Neither of them are worthy of you."
Your breath hitched as your lips parted for a bit."And who is it then? I am nothing but a tool." Aegon looks at you, something battleing inside of his eyes. They always seemed distant, but when he talked to you, it felt like everything made sense back.
You were the only one to understand his pain. To understand his preassure. Who said he wanted to be a damn king as his mother was expecting him to be? Who said he wanted this life? His mother was always preaparing him for the big role he didn't wanted. To hell, his father didn't even look at him and he had to be ready to be a king?
"You are so much more than that." His fingers grazed beneath your chin, barely touching it leaving a ghost feeling underneath. His thumb crosses over your lips. The feeling of his rough skin on your soft lips made you feel like it was supposed to be like that. For your lips to belong to him. To any part of him. He glanced away, clenching his jaw. He was in a deep thought as he walked off.
Your eyes follow him as he gets lost in a crowd. You felt like you should've ran after him. You wanted to, but you were sceptic.
"Why is such a lady standing alone?" My head turns to see one of the lords over. Tyland Lannister. You never liked Lannisters. In your eyes, they were just a one more pawn that wanted to become a closer to a king. Maybe even to become a king.
"Just enjoying the gathering, my lord." You give him a polite smile. You didn't want to engage the conversation, but he seemed too interested in you. "Well, the night is long, and the songs are delightfull like you. Would you give me an honor, and give me your hand for a dance?" He chuckled extending his hand out.
You clench your jaw your lips in a thin line. "I really don't feel like dancing, my lord." His face changed to a frown. "Oh, am I not worth of a dance with your grace?" Something bubbled in you with his words. Anger, for him to use a guilt card. You didn't want to make a scene. You were a royalty afer all.
"That is not what I said, my lord." You take his hand. "Of course I would like to dance." There was a smug smile on his lips. You knew what he wanted. His grip got more like a possesive one as he pulled you onto the dance floor. His other hand held the small of your back. It felt like he was holding you too tight. Like he held you with greed.
Despite you trying to hide your discomfort, Tyland pulls you even closer and held you tightly to him. The two of you danced in a dead silence. You started to look around the place, trying to find someone to save you. To get you away. Your eyes searching around, it seemed like you were looking for a specific person. "Something is on your mind, princess?"
You look up to him giving him a fake sweet smile. "Not at all." When you look away, your eyes finally meet his with a pleading look in them. Aegon as soon as he catched your eye, stopped in his tracks and seemed to process the situation. He starts to make his way towards you, his eyes never leaving yours.
As Tyland takes you in for a spin, you extend your hand and Aegon takes it pulling you away and swaying off with you in a dance.
Aegon seemed proud with a smug smirk on his lips. "Tief." You say under your breath, feeling how he held you much more gentle as the two of you took off in a dance.
Aegon laughs heartly at your statement shaking his head. "You seemed like you needed rescuing." You nod your head, gazing up at him."You stole my heart, you stole me from my dancing partner. What is next?"
Aegon grins at your words, enjoying the playful banter between you. He spins you around, pulling you back against him as you continue the dance.
"I'm a greedy man, my princess," he says with a smirk, his hand on your back slipping lower for just a moment before resuming its usual position. "I'll steal whatever I can get my hands on."
His eyes never left yours. There was a glint of something in them. "Stop looking at me like that."
Aegon raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider at your words. "Like what?" He asks innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrays him. You have to bite the smile that wanted to escape your lips. "Like I'm a dinner."
"Oh, believe me, my princess, you're a feast fit for a king." He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I'd happily devour every last bit of you." He pulls you impossibly closer, his hold on you possessive but tender at the same time. "Can you blame me for admiring you so? You're far too captivating to ignore." A chuckle escapes your lips.
"Va moriot gīmigon se paktot udir, gaomagon ao daor?" You're always finding the right words, aren't you? His eyes glanced down to your lips as he leaned his head to the side. He hums, you knew he enjoyed when you switched to Valyrian."Ñuha jorrāelagon, you're going to be a death to me." His voice just above a whisper. it was raspy and deep as you look at him in a haze through your lashes.
He leans in closer, his own eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting yours again, a mix of fondness and desire in his expression. "You keep looking at me like that, and I'll have to claim my future wife right here and then." He mumurs softly.
Your lips part in a shock. "Since when am I your future wife?" He smirks smugly, pulling you in, his face just inches away from yours.
"Since now. I'm not letting anyone else claim you. You're mine to have."
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l0starl · 14 days
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✦﹒𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝟒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ıllı
how your s/o shows their affection to you (not all have dialogue it's just Jing yuan)
SPOILERS FROM 2.5 AT JIAOQIU'S PART
a/n: its like 12:31 at night...if anythings wrong that's why.
₊ ⊹ ݁ Feat: Jing yuan, Jiaoqiu, Dan heng + honorable mentions
w/c in total: 571
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JING YUAN
"Jing Yuan, I need to get going. I'm already late to the alchemy commissions!" You said urgency, but he didn't budge one bit! His hands were on your hip, his face nuzzled into your neck as he let out a content sigh. "Wouldn't you want to stay in my office with me and take the day off" He suggested a faux pout forming on his face as he spoke.
"I may not have people waiting for my services today, but you are a general. You have lots of work to catch up on don't you?" You raised a brow, and Jing Yuan only hummed in response, His eyes met yours briefly.
"10 more minutes..?" He suggested with his signature smile, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your waist, you were already late to work and you didn't want to be any later. But since you weren't technically needed, it wouldn't hurt to spend ten more minutes with him, right?
"Alright then, ten more minutes and I'm leaving, Got it?"
"Of course dear" He smiled, leaving a tender kiss on your cheek.
w/c: 181
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JIAOQIU
After you found out Jiaoqiu lost his sight, you did everything you to help him, mentally, or physically. In the beginning, he claimed he was 'content' clearly not after all that traumatic stuff he went through
One thing that Jiaoqiu would do regularly is hold onto your hand, just to feel any form of contact with you, to know you're there right beside him.
Another thing he does is wrap his tail around you to feel closer while cuddling, when you're cooking something for him, doesn't matter.
He enjoys the sound of your voice, whether it is about work, cooking, or something you're passionate about, he can always hear the smile in your voice! It makes him feel more connected to you, just like old times.
There's not much both of you can do, but know that he appreciates you dearly and how you've been nursing him.
w/c : 147
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DAN HENG
Dan Heng would mostly be affectionate with you when you both are alone whether it's just a simple kiss or lying his head on his shoulder.
At some point, you made two bracelets, one for you and one for him of course. And oh boy did he cherish it, he would always take it off very gently, careful not to stretch it too much or let anyone even touch it! earlier March 7th wanted to see it but he quickly moved his hand saying it was off limits
though it did break one day and he questioned if it was fixable or was the damage already done. You reassured him that you'd fix it and return it the next day to him. He may not show it in his expressions much but he loves you a lot.
w/c: 138
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HONORABLE MENTIONS
AVENTURINE
Aventurine brought a promise ring for the two of you to match and show off, your's was a golden one, his was a purple one. You were his lover, so of course he's gonna spoil you rotten!
New clothes? of course, bags? you got it. Anything you want and he'll make it happen!
When you both went to casino's you were practically his lucky charm, while he played you sat down beside him watching, each game getting tenser than the last. every time he won he says 'it was all because of you of course'
One things for sure, you both make a great pair
w/c: 105
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thanks for reading!!
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
Note
I’ve seen you said you take prompts, so, I had an idea if you’re interested.
So, imagine Danny has an assignment from Clockwork, and as punishment for a prank he pulled where he messed with something and unintentionally pulled CW’s attention away from the timelines for long enough for the Flash to accidentally ruin the timeline, after the timeline was fixed Danny’s forced to go and fix every single broken clock in the solar system. This includes stuff like watches and the batcave clock, maybe a few timed bombs, something on the watchtower, villain bases, etc.. Everyone is extremely confused and concerned as to how and why this eldritch kid with the Mark of Kronos is appearing randomly in their secret bases. Danny isn’t just fixing the clocks, sometimes he pulls Shenanigans depending on where he has to go. If he sees clones in a lab, he’ll call up Dani and they’ll pull off a heist together and she’ll take care of teaching and raising them afterwards. Talons? Danny opens a portal to a section of the infinite realms and gives them their own island after having the yetis go through deprogramming with them and stuff. He sees some stuffy fruitloop batcave? Graffiti and glitter. Lazarus pits? Free smoothie! Of course, he’s respectful to civilians when he bumps into them, giving little unmeltable ice statues to kids, helping people who need it, etc. He fixes a family heirloom watch, bringing tears to a grandson’s eyes. He’s helping people while on his mission, while also messing with any fruitloops he finds. So all of these people around the world are just really confused and being like, what in the world, who/what is this kid?! And sharing stories about him online, painting him as a cryptid or god or whatever. The Justice League and the villains are just Concerned because the kid feels like Kronos, time, and death energy, and have no idea what he’s trying to accomplish. Maybe they think that working clocks give him power, idk, just thinking of the conspiracy boards about Danny as he goes through his punishment and fixes every single clock, including on other planets (Danny practically squealing the whole time as he meets *aliens* in *space*! What cool technology and life!) This is meant to be a punishment but Danny’s living out his dreams. Sure it’s boring at times, but all this traveling is interesting and can help him bond with Dani, so this isn’t much of a punishment for him. He gets to be mischievous and help people out, it’s a win-win. Meanwhile everyone else is thinking that the end of the world is coming and that Kronos has been reborn and is trying to take over the world somehow with clocks. If you’re willing to expand or add to this or make it your own, please do!
I love the idea of Danny just *poof* "Yes, hello, I am the clock-smith" in the middle of, say, the watch tower. Floating up to the clock wall to adjust the time while pulling out a manual on time zones in different parts of space. The watch tower is within Earth's intergalactic waters per se, but which Earth time did he set it to???
Should he anchor it to one place or just place a spell on it to show all the time zones in a cycle? Does Clockwork have a procedure for this?
Meanwhile, all the heroes in the cafeteria are jumping to their feet, some whispering, "A fifth dimension imp!" and others yelling, "It's Kronos!"
Wonder Woman kneeling before the flouting teen does not help these accusations, as she loudly proclaims, "It's an honor to be of service, Lord Kronos."
Danny looked down at her. "Oh hey, an Amazonian."
"Why have you graced us with your presence? Is there anything this lowly servant can help you with?"
".....Can you gather all the watches for me?"
"At once!" And that's how the rest of the heroes almost have heart attacks because Wonder Woman herself is rushing at them at terrifying speed to rip away any form of watch from their bodies. She's on a war path, and no one can stop her. They can see it in her eyes- she'll draw blood if she has to.
They hand over their watches without much of a fight, feeling like they are being mugged. Wonder Woman sprints away to the next few levels- the screams of fellow heroes echoing in her wake.
Batman isn't as willing to cooperate with Kronos until he knows why the god is here, but Danny doesn't give him much of a choice. Mostly because he is uncontainable. Thankfully, he seems fixated on watches (Bruce writes in his notes, "Can gods be autistic???), and he leaves once they are all fixed.
He changes everything to be precisely twenty-nine hours ahead of whatever time they originally were at. Wonder Woman basically barked at everyone to not switch them back, banishing her sword.
From there, Batman does research with his sons and daughters. Tim finds the information of Danny appearing throughout history to fix watches, and Hal finds similar historical text in Oa's archives—usually right before a horrible tragedy. Further investigation shows a horrendous discovery.
Danny adds or subtracts the same number of hours from the told time as before the tragedy.
He was on Mars three hours before the tipping point of the civil war when the tremendous green Martian massacre happened. He added three hours to the green Martian's capital clock tower.
He was there on Krypton twenty-five hours before the planet was swallowed up by a black hole and exploded. Every public area with any form of time telling was changed to twenty-five regardless of whether it matched the planet's time zone.
And now he was here in the clock tower.
Bruce realizes that they have only one hour left, so he commands everyone to rush about and search for what could be the issue. It's only thanks to the Speedsters' quickness that they find the malfunction in the tower's core—the thing keeping them flouting. Had they been one hour too late, it would have caused the Tower to get pulled into Earth's gravitational pull.
Leading to them crashing into Earth- right above the most populated country of the world, possibly killing millions and leaving the world without their heroes.
The tragedy is avoided but now everyone is weary of when or where Kronos will appear.
Meanwhile, Clockwork is watching the timeline, amused that they think Danny is him when, in reality, Danny is just picking a random time and sticking the clocks to match since it's less math.
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daytaker · 9 months
Text
The Gang React to You Petting Their Hair
Lucifer
"I am only going to say this once: stop."
You get one warning. One. If you do not cease and desist, he is throwing you out of his study, so help him Diavolo's Dad. No, he does not like it. No, not even a little bit. You really aren't going to stop? You're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?
....You're very lucky he's too busy to hurl you bodily from this room. He'll just endure it for now.
Mammon
"Hah?! What's the big idea?! This is the revered hair of THE Great Mammon, I'll have you know. So that'll be 100 Grimm a touch, thanks! ....Hey, no, wait, why'd you stop?"
Once he's done turning bright red and clearing his throat, he'll try to capitalize on this whim of yours by offering you a discount on hair touches. A very poorly-planned scheme, because you're not going to pay to do something he'll start begging you to keep up as soon as you stop.
Oh, so Mammon is willing to let you touch his high-value hair for free? You're so honored. What a good boy you are, Mammon. (You can expect a bit more sputtering and some denials that he is anything like a good boy, but bro's into it big time. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.)
Leviathan
*shrieks in confused, touch-starved otaku*
Wait, no, he didn't say to stop! What's with these mixed signals? Petting his hair then stopping just because he shrieks a little bit? Did you want to touch his hair or not? Is it greasy? Oh god, when did he last bathe? ...It was only the other day. You have no reason to be disgusted. You're just a bigoted normie who assumes all otaku are crusty and gross!
Ahhhh?!?!?!?! Again?! Fine! Just don't change your mind again, because that's super confusing! And yeah, obviously he's blushing, you're petting his head and it feels nice and kind of tickles! ....Mm.... You know, once he's settled into it, it's really relaxing, actually...
Fast forward an hour or two and he's probably conked out with his head in your lap, drunk on affection and mostly asleep.
Satan
"What exactly do you think you're doing?"
It feels weird. Why are you doing that? Wait, you're petting him? Like he's....a cat? Hmm. Interesting. He'll allow it. But you should do it properly. None of this mussing his hair around with wild abandon. You have to be gentle and use small movements. Maybe use your knuckles? Gently though. There, that's it.
So this is what it feels like. Admittedly, he probably wouldn't take kindly to this if anybody else was doing it, no matter how well they imitated proper cat-petting technique. But you're a special exception, so in the future, if you feel the need to do this, just let him know. And for the love of all things unholy, don't breathe a word about this to his brothers.
Asmodeus
"Oh, you like my hair? Isn't it soft? I'll show you the conditioner I use."
Asmo loves having his hair played with! Or brushed, or combed, or tugged (just not too hard, please!) His hair is silky smooth thanks to a mixture of his natural good looks and his shampoo/conditioner combination. He'll let you borrow them if you're interested. Your hair will look amazing! And it'll feel even better!
This is cozy. He'll just settle in and let you do this as long as you want. Careful you don't get too handsy; he knows how irresistible he is.
...Well, maybe if you're a little handsy he'll let it slide, but just because it's you.
Beelzebub
"Are you....petting me?"
Kind of weird, but it feels nice, so he isn't complaining. It's a little bit embarrassing, just because it makes him feel a little bit like a puppy, but then again, who doesn't like puppies? He'll be able to continue to go about his day not minding you petting his hair now and again. The only awkward part is how damn tall he is. You might need to keep a step stool handy.
Belphegor
"Nnngh, knock it off...! ... ... ...I changed my mind, do it again."
His initial reaction to being woken up to you stroking his head is annoyance, because dammit, he was sleeping. But once he shakes the cobwebs out of his brain, he'll realize that it actually felt really good and he could absolutely fall asleep under these circumstances.
He'll wait a little while, hoping you'll give it another try of your own accord, but if you don't, he'll eventually cave and grumpily ask you to do it again.
Diavolo
"Hahaha... That's enough, now."
He isn't actually a fan. Maybe it's the fact that he's a prince and has been acting as an autocrat more or less for centuries, but being stroked like an adored pet feels really degrading. Of course, he won't hold it against you, but seriously, stop.
Barbatos
"Are you finished playing around quite yet?"
Another one who isn't into this at all. He's more than happy to spend his free time petting you, if that's what you're interested in, but he is a petter, not a pettee. Read into this what you will.
Solomon
"You're so forward!"
Solomon likes it very much. Too much, possibly. Are you flirting with him? There's something incredibly intimate about touching someone's hair, don't you think? No, please, continue.
Simeon
"Um, what are you doing? ...As long as you're enjoying yourself, I guess!"
Simeon is more bewildered by this than most. Like, are you trying to scratch an itch for him? Is this one of those "viral memes" he's heard so much about? Well, it feels nice, and it isn't as if it's hurting anybody. He'll indulge you for now.
A little to your left, please. Ahhhh, that's the spot...
Luke
"Hehe, that tickles... Hey! Is this a Chihuahua joke?!"
It feels kind of nice, but as soon as he takes a second to think about it, he realizes that you're treating him at best like a little kid, and at worst, like a dog, and he isn't having any of that. He'll scold you for treating a Celestial being so casually, remind you that he's actually a lot older than you, technically, so who's the real baby, and secretly pine for more pets for the rest of his life.
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concretecultist · 3 months
Text
Kingdom Come
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summary: you ask Noah, your Dom best friend, for a big favor.
pairing: sub!fem!reader x dom!noah
word count: 7.4k
THIS IS PURE FICTION!!
warnings: 18+!! BDSM, restraints, slapping/impact play, light degradation, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, oral (f receiving), subspace
A/N: this was purely self indulgent. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🥰
~Berry🫐
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Life was kicking your ass. Harder than normal and the weight of the world was getting harder the bear.
Your job sucked, your body ached all the time and the one guy who you thought was going to be it for you, ended up ghosting you. All of it was a slap in the face and it was even worse when your landlord calls you to let you know the water would be off for a couple weeks due to maintenance issues. You guess you could tolerate it since he’s reducing rent during the time that the water will be off.
So, once you find out this information, you’re calling your best friend to see if you can crash there for a while. He had no problem with it. He no longer had roommates and often found himself missing having someone around.
So when you arrived and got yourself situated after a steamy shower to wash the day off, you find yourself sitting beside Noah with a question burning a hole in your tongue.
“I know this idea is out there but,” you choke on the words and realize how ridiculous this sounds.
“What?,” he keeps clicking away at his controller as he played his game, not taking his eyes off the screen. When you don’t answer, he takes a peak over at you and can see you biting your lip so hard it looks like it’ll bleed.
“Stop doing that,” he paused his game and used his thumb to gently pull your lip down from between the grip of your teeth, “What’s going on. It’s just me, Y/N,”
You look to him, twiddling your thumbs and decide it’s all or nothing, if he says no you guys can just forget you ever said anything.
“I need to turn my brain off,” you blurt out.
“Okay?,” he shrugs as if there was nothing to it, “I can have Folio bring some weed by,”
“No, I-,” you throw your face in your hands, cheeks burning as you think about it, “You are in the…. the BDSM scene and I want you to help me turn my brain off,”
His mouth drops in an ‘o’ shape as it clicks what exactly you mean. His hesitation has you feeling so silly. You should have just showered, went home and rubbed one out.
“Sugar, I’m not exactly sure you know what you’re asking for,”
You were his little sugar cube. Too sweet to know exactly what his life entailed behind the scenes. You never really seemed interested in it before. But little did he know, you were just nervous to show it.
He could be mean at the request of his subs during sessions and you were requesting it now but you were his best friend and he didn’t want to cross that line unless you were 110% sure.
“N-no, no I do,”
He’s briefly talked about his sessions enough for it to cause a burning of desire in your gut. You’ve never been in the scene but with the way things are going lately, you just need to be taken care of, to be manhandled and you’d rather do that with someone you trust.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you mumble, humiliated now that you’d expect your hot, dom, best friend to do that for and to you, “I just made a fool of myself,”
The silence that he was giving after your initial ask was gnawing at your emotions, you just wanted to disappear right now.
“Sugar, it would be an honor but if we do this, there’s no going back because I’m going to want you forever,” his words spilled like the smoothest whiskey on the market. Sure, now this sounds like a typical cliche of friends to lovers but what’s wrong with that? Sometimes things like this are meant to become something more. Maybe that’s why long term relationship never worked for either of you… because you two were it for each other?
“Please,” your voice cracks with need. You had showered while he stayed on the couch playing a video game and yet your body is still tense.
“Follow me,” he stands tall before you, extending a hand in which you take easily. You could already feel some tension relieving from simply holding his hand.
He kept his pace slow, easy for you to keep up with as one of his steps equaled three of yours.
He had a spare bedroom that no one was allowed in, not even you and you guys had been friends for almost a decade now. So when he reached above the door to grab the key, you snatched your hand from his and took a giant step back.
“I can’t go in there,”
“Right, without my consent,” he peaked over his shoulder, “But you have that now and then some,”
You looked at him with wary eyes and he dropped his shoulders with a knowing sigh.
“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” his hands made their way onto your shoulders to deliver a comforting squeeze, “This is the way,”
One of his hands is gently cradling your cheek now and it’s so soothing that you can’t help but lean into it and he notices the way your eyes flutter.
He already knows you’re going to be so good for him tonight.
Noah leans his forehead down to yours and your lips are only a few centimeters a part.
“You trust me… don’t you, Sugar?,”
Immediately weak in the knees, noticing he’s already entering into his persona. You nod feverishly against him.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,”
A gentle peck on your lips has you leaning in for more when he pulls away.
“Take your hands off the wheel and let me drive,” is all he says before turning his back to you to unlock the door.
Time seemed to slow down when he pushed it open, a part of you wanted to close your eyes, still feeling nervous about seeing a space he deemed so private that he kept it locked up. Your hand is in his once more with him pulling you through the threshold as he flicks the light on.
Red fluorescent lights filling your vision.
It smells so good in here and you wonder how, considering what possibly goes down based simply off of what’s in here.
The bed frame looks like one luxurious bird cage, bolted to the floor and a sheer canopy draping over it. There’s bars hanging from the ceiling with cuffs hanging from them.
Open cupboards of different items like floggers, paddles then another filled with masks and gags, one full of toys. There’s a full fridge in here with a clear door and you can see different replenishing beverages and snacks.
This is his sex dungeon
“Something like that,” he spoke aloud.
Realizing your thoughts weren’t kept in your head you avert your gaze to the ground.
“I don’t use it much other than personal uses, any time I have a scene with someone I meet them at theirs. I’ve just been keeping this a secret until I found the one worthy to be in here,”
Your eyes widen as you raise your head to meet his.
“M-me?!,” poking yourself in the chest, “I… you mean me?!,”
His shoulders tremble in soft laughter, shaking his head at your disbelief.
“This entire time, I’ve just been wanting to bring you here but you never expressed any interest in the scene,” he played with your fingers in his grasp, something he always found comfort in doing.
“I didn’t know if you’d take me seriously. I’m not exactly… what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive,”
“You’re exactly what comes to mind,” he brings you to a plush crimson couch, covered in velvet material. When your ass meets the cushions, he’s reaching to a table beside you to light a candle, bringing it over with him as he lowers himself into his knees before you.
“I’m going to go over a few house rules while I get you relaxed okay?,”
You offer a simple nod and he smirks,
“Rule number one- I always need a verbal answer. I don’t want to leave anything to the imagination and possibly misread body language, got it?,”
Swallowing thickly you nod once more, “I understand,”
“Good girl,” his hands make their way onto your calves, kneading the tight muscles, causing an involuntary moan in which you try to subdue.
“Number two, don’t be shy,” he says plainly, “I know this is new but you know me and I’m here to keep you safe so don’t shy away from me. Be as vocal and as emotional as you need to be,”
“I understand,” you answer once more. Your eyes watch his hands, curious when he picks up the candle, the flame flickering in his eyes.
“Three. Trust that I will never hurt you outside of what you ask for,” he tips the candle and a quiet gasp leaves your lips, quickly turning into a moan when the wax drips onto your tired legs, Noah instantly setting the candle down and massaging it into your skin.
“Pheromone massage candles,” he answered your unasked question.
“Four. I usually go by King during these scenes but since this is new for you I don’t want you to feel detached from me so call me Noah until you feel comfortable, okay?,”
“Y-yes,” your eyes cross slightly while his thumbs work into the sore soles of your feet. This was helping so much and just from this simple interaction, your core is buzzing already.
“Five. If you need to stop or directions are not okay or unclear- speak up. I’m going to need you to pick a safeword for me,”
You squirm on the couch, becoming putty in his hands as they move from your feet to your calves and now your thighs.
“Kingdom,” you answer with ease, if he goes by King might as well make it coordinate right?
“Good one,” he plants a kiss by your knee, “Rule six, no negative self talk or thoughts. I may degrade you but I will always follow it up with praise. You are loved and cared about, you understand me?,”
“I understand,” you nod.
“Seven. Have fun and let go. We are here together so remember I will always catch you,”
With his last rule he spreads your thighs, squeezing them to get a reaction out of you.
“Do you have any rules for me?,” eyes dark yet caring in the red glow.
“Don’t hold back,” an embarrassing whimper escapes, “I know I’m a rookie but I can take it and I know you’ll take care of me just…,”
Your hands grab his, holding them tight so he knows how bad you need this.
“Just don’t hold back. I need it, I know I’m safe so I just need you to hurt me, I need you to help me turn my brain off and surrender myself to you,”
Your words from earlier echoed in Noah’s head and he thought they were a crock of shit.
I’m not exactly what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive
Bullshit. You were perfect.
He wipes his hands on a towel that he kept on the table with the candle, setting it and the candle back in their original spot when he was finished.
His hands are now sheltering your face because he can see your mind is still running a million miles a minute.
“What do you need from me right now?,”
You were embarrassed to say it.
“What were rules 2 and 7, Sugar?,” his voice pulled you from your own thoughts.
“To not be shy and to let go,”
He nodded in understanding, “So why are you breaking my rules and overthinking?,”
God, he was so good at this. The twinge of disappointment in his tone had your heart aching, you wanted to be good.
“Can.. c-can you smack me?,” your voice was barely a whisper and you knew he wouldn’t let that slide.
“Speak up, baby. Closed mouths don’t get fed,” his thumbs were rubbing such comforting circles on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but oblige.
“I need you to smack me,” it wasn’t a plea, it was a declaration.
Noah just reads your face. Studying your expression to see if there’s any doubt, any hesitation. He stands you up and then he leans in to kiss you with a sort of need that you’ve never been kissed with before. You two are breathing heavily in between and you can barely keep up. Your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, just wanting him to consume you.
He pulls away but before you can protest, you feel the searing heat of his open palm meeting your cheek. A gasp of surprise comes from you and yet again you’re left with no time to react when he does it again.
“Fuck,” you mewl, “More,”
He answers your demand with a little more power behind this one, the pain feeling so good you almost fall to your knees but luckily, he held you upright.
“Turn it off,” he says through clenched teeth, smacking you once more. If you were naked you know for a fact you’d be dripping down your legs, “Turn it off, Sugar. I see you trying,”
Hand on your neck, he’s pushing you backward and each step is another slap until he pins you to the wall, you can feel your eyes burn as the tears of desire being to rise.
You need this so bad.
“I said. Turn,” a harder slap, “It. Off!!,” with one more smack, you’re practically howling at how exceptional it felt, eyes closed as you welcome the sting that lingered on your flesh, feeling the heat running down to your neck and up to your temples.
Your head feels like you’re in limbo and when you open your eyes, he can see the change in yours and you can see the change in his.
You’re both in your designated positions. He has his hands on the wheel now. Your brain was off and the part of you that needed to be taken care of has entered the chat, the stressed version was locked away in a dark cell of your mind and would stay there until it was time to let her out.
“There she goes,” his hand soothed your cheek and you were liquid in his hands
“Thank you,” doe eyes shining up at him, he feels so proud of himself.
“Oh baby, it’s my pleasure,” he cooed, “Can you be good and undress for me?,”
“Can you help?,” your body was feeling fuzzy, like you had a few shots and were floating now. You felt like if you tried to undress yourself you’d topple over.
“Of course,” he felt gratified to be asked.
One article of clothing at a time until you were bare in front of him, pinned against the crimson paint on the wall.
“How are we doing? You okay?,” a kiss planted to your neck, his large hands running up and down your body had you sighing in content.
“On cloud nine,” you answer dreamily. You were in a daze, this room felt like your own amusement park now.
A room you once weren’t allowed in because this is his sanctuary. How many others were close to being brought here? How many others did he put in a hypnotic state?
“Put her away,” his gruff voice echoed in your ears, “She doesn’t get to come back. Lock it away,”
He could tell through your body language that you were starting to overthink again.
“Do we need to stop?,”
“No,” rearing back to look him in his eyes so he can see how bad you truly need and want this, “No. It’s turned off,”
“That’s what I need to hear,”
He brings you back over to the couch you were on a few minutes ago but this time he’s sitting on the cushion and he’s positioning you over his lap.
“Think you can handle a few spanks?,”
“Uh huh!,” excitement coursing through your veins, body jolting when you feel his lips press against the supple flesh that he was soon about to tenderize.
But first, he had to feel you. He has to feel your wetness coat his fingers. So his fingers trace figures on the back of your thighs and you’re jutting your ass up to get him to touch you, he delivers a light smack as a warning.
“Patience,” is all he speaks. Slowly but surely, his middle finger swipes your clit and lightly presses into your entrance.
He pulls a long drawn out moan from you when he fully pushes his finger inside. A quiet growl emits from his chest and your toes are curling.
“Noah pleeeeaaase,” you grip his calves, eyes rolling at his slow movement of removing his finger and reinserting it.
“What do you need, Sugar?,” you could hear the smile in his tone. The way he was speaking to you and touching you just made the anxiety melt away.
“Wanna feel your fingers. Always wanted to feel your fingers,” you couldn’t help but be unapologetically honest. For years you’ve watched his hands and how he talks with them, how he uses them to hold multiple things at once, how he sucks on them when he gets ice cream or ranch on them.
But until now you’ve always buried your desires deep.
“Oh yeah?,” without a warning, he’s stretching you open and you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, spreading your legs as open as possible so you’re not falling off his lap.
“You feel so good, Sugar,” he affirms, “So wet for me, so fucking warm,”
His fingers were reaching so deep it was intoxicating, never having experienced anyone with fingers as long as his has you going cross eyed.
“Thank you, Noah!!!,” your walls pulsing around his middle and ring fingers while his free hand soothed your ass cheeks before taking a big strike against them, the sound of his palm meeting your flesh bouncing off the walls.
“You’re so welcome, baby,” he picks up the pace of his fingers and he can feel the way you’re trying to get friction on your clit.
“Nuh uh,” he spanks you once more, “Be good, take what I give you,”
“Please,” singing a beautiful tune, you just want to let go for him, you want to crumble in his lap, you want him to feel what he does to you.
“Please what?,” another strike on your ass and another curl of his fingers inside you.
“W-wanna cum for you,”
“Is that right?,” there’s that teasing tone again, it makes you feel small but it only tightens the coil in your core. He moves his fingers with expertise inside of you and you think you’re about to orgasm strictly off of penetration which is rare for you. You almost always need clitoral stimulation.
“Please. Please. Wanna be good for you, wanna let go for you,”
You two have only just begun and you’re already a mess. You can hear the squelching, you can hear your heart thumping in your ears, you’re trembling.
You’re a fucking mess in his grasp.
“I think we should make your first one easy enough to earn,” he observed, positioning his knee right under your pelvis, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers stroked the deepest depths of you.
“C‘mon, Sugar. Give it to me. Let it out,”
Your nails are digging into his calf and you’re drooling, rocking back into him but he didn’t mind this time, he’s enjoys seeing how desperate you are to cum, not just for yourself but for him.
You want to offer all you can to him. All of your emotions, all of your whimpers and cries, your mind, body and spirit.
“I’m gonna… can I cum, Noah? Please”
He gives a hum of approval and he can feel it, he watched your body swell with a deep breath and watched it deflate as you let out the most beautiful, guttural moan he’s ever heard.
His fingers halt their movements inside of you and he makes sure to rub your back to bring you back down.
“You’re okay,” a soft murmur leaves his lips while he slowly removes his fingers from your soaked hole, sitting you up and repositioning you in his lap so you’re straddling him.
“Be good and open for me,”
You follow his directions and bask in the glory of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, making you taste yourself. You collect your flavor but before you can close your mouth and swallow it down, he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth to taste you.
Your eyes instantly roll in the back of your head, relishing the taste of his mouth sharing the taste of you.
“Need you,” you pull away, hands cupping his face as if he’s made of glass, “Always needed you,”
His gaze softens for a moment, letting you know that ‘regular’ Noah hears you, that it’s not just his persona hearing those words.
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he purred, “You have me, Sugar. Just as I have you,”
With ease, he lifts you up and walks with you to the cupboards.
“Pick a toy, a gag and a restraint and come to the bed when you’ve made your decision,” a kiss is given to your temple and he walks away, leaving you to make your choices without any pressure. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way to the bed.
He has so many trinkets to choose from. He just stock piled all of this stuff until he found the one? He really is a stickler for this kind of thing.
After some careful self-deliberation, you grabbed your chosen items and made your way over to him. Noah sat patiently within the doorway of the cage-like bed.
“I chose these,” you offer them to him and he gave an intrigued ‘hmph’
A rose, a silicone bar gag and wrist-to-thigh cuffs.
“Good choices, baby” standing up and kissing your forehead, he moves out of the way so you can see the bed. Silk red sheets, chains hanging from the bars, and the sheer canopy keeping secrets in with just a glimpse of what was to come.
“Climb up,” he pats your ass and you do just that, at a leisure pace so he can get a good view of you from behind. When you sit flat, you see him entering and closing the door behind him.
This feels much more intimate than just any ole bedroom. The lighting, the enclosed space, all of it made you feel closer to Noah.
“Before we start, take a drink for me,”
“But I’m okay,”
“Did I ask that?,” he tilts his head, eyes squinting as if to tell you ‘watch it.’
“I’m sorry,”
He cracks open the bottle and holds it to your lips, giving you a knowing look as if to say ‘I told you so’ when you drink down half the bottle.
When you’re finish he sets it to the side and hovers over you until you’re laying back on your elbows, eyes not leaving his.
“How are we doing? You still okay?,”
“I’m perfect, Noah,” a tender smirk made its way into your face, “I know I’m safe,” you assure.
“Are you okay? I know this kind of thing takes time, just don’t want you to feel pressured,” you inquire.
“There you go overthinking,” he kisses your neck, “For you, it’s easy to turn on. You never took notice to how I always took control? No matter what we did?,”
He’s got a point. Any time you two went out grocery shopping because you were anxious and didn’t want to go alone, he hooked his arm with yours, took your list and did all the shopping. Any time you two went out to the movies, he’s picking your snacks and drinks and doing all the talking. A hand on the small of your back each time you two were out, always helping you zip up your dresses or fastening your necklaces.
It was subtle, but it was always there.
“I was made for you. I was made to take care of you,” he continues his trail of kisses, planting them wherever he pleases, “And you let me. Which means you were always mine,”
A relaxed sigh is released at his words. He’s right and you know it.
“So, knowing this. I’m more than okay and am filled with joy of knowing that I get to break you and put you back together again, over and over,”
Bucking your hips up wasn’t a good idea, considering he pinned them down and got your restraints ready.
“I need this. Noah, please I need you” a shameful cry bounces off the bars of the enclosure you found yourself in.
“I know,” he growled, fastening your hands into the cuffs and attaching the other bands to each thigh. With your hands tied to your thighs now, you wouldn’t be able to touch him.
“You need me to wreck you. To hurt you so that the stressors of your everyday light aren’t plaguing your brain for once,”
He squeezes your cheeks so your lips are parted and lifts your head up to move your hair out of the way so he can tighten the gag.
You looked so beautiful like this.
“I’m here to give you just that,” he grabs the rose, “I don’t care how many orgasms it takes. I’m going to reduce you to nothing and fill you back up with worth again. I will end you and resuscitate you over and over again until you’ve had enough. Is that understood?,”
“Yeth,” you slur around the gag.
“Good,” on his knees, between your legs, he turns the rose on and the low hum fills the space, he leans forward to spit on your nipples before placing the opening of the toy over your harden buds, your back swiftly arching off the bed with a moan around the silicone.
He’s at this for a while, just teasing your nipples, biting at your jawline, groaning in your ear until you’re leaking onto the silk sheets.
You’re begging around the gag but he just teasingly looks at you as if he can’t understand you. But he knows. He knows where you need him.
“It’s a lot, are you sure you can handle it on your clit?,” he smirks so devilishly it’s almost scary. But the twinge of fear makes you ache.
“Mmhmm mmhm!,” already drooling around the bar, you nod feverishly, just wanting to feel something, no, needing to feel something.
You get what you desire when he sits back up on his heels to spread your legs even wider to get a perfect view of your swollen clit, glistening as your arousal is painted all over your core.
When he finally attaches the toy to your clit, your toes are curling, your eyes are rolling and your back is arching.
Maybe you weren’t ready for this, maybe you should have gotten a wand or something.
“Relax,” he says simply, using his own legs to pin yours down.
“Breathe, Sugar. Just breathe. Look at me,” he sees the way your eyes are swimming with tears and it brings him satisfaction, especially when your chest is trembling from him keeping the buzzing toy on your sensitive bundle.
“It’s a lot, I know but I wouldn’t give you more than you could handle,”
He slowly inhaled with you, guiding you to calm you down but it was just too much, so much that you’re already cumming and groaning behind the gag which causes Noah to darkly chuckle.
But he keeps it there. He keeps the rose there and you’re convulsing under him when he sinks his fingers into your messy core.
“That was pathetic,” he looked into your eyes, “And you didn’t even ask,”
He got so much amusement out of your whimpers, how the hell were you supposed to ask with a gag in your mouth?! But maybe that’s the point? It’s a set up for him to milk you as a form of torture.
It was sadistic but, you were the masochist after all.
“You’re so creamy,” he said in a daze, absolutely obsessed with the way you’re painting his fingers, your walls pulsing around his appendages as if they’re trying to draw them in and keep them there.
“Noaaaaaaahh!!,” your cries muffled, your face so wet from the tears and the spit but Noah finds it beautiful, if he could, he’d paint how you looked right now and frame it, get it tattooed even.
“You can do it. You asked for this, remember?” His eyes rolled at the feeling of his fingers deep inside, drenched in your offering, his tattoos glistening, catching his eye in the ruby lighting. He just wanted to be bottomed out in you already.
You’re calling for him from around the gag, breasts shaking as you’re overcome with yet another blinding climax. Your nails dig into your thighs, just wanting to dig them into Noah’s instead and pull him toward you. You wanted him, you craved him.
“Sshhhh. You’re okay, Sugar. You’re doing so well for me,” he picked himself up off your legs and grabbed a rag to wipe the spit that dribbled down your chin, “I’m gonna turn you over, need you to give me one more before you have me. One more and we can take the cuffs and gag off okay?,”
Sitting you up, his hand supporting the back of your head as he checks over you, making sure you’re okay.
“Do you need anything? A break, water?,” he breaks character for a moment
With a verbal “Nuh uh” behind the bar, you let him position you like a Barbie, letting him move your legs, manually arching your back and propping a pillow under your head so you were comfy and could breathe.
You feel him leave open mouthed kisses on your ass, biting the pillowy skin just to hear you hum in delight.
“Can’t wait to give you what you want,” Noah positions himself under you so he can stare right up at your leaking heat, no matter the angle, it was a mesmerizing sight to see, “But first, I just need to taste you.”
He exasperated in desperation before using his hands to grab your ass, bringing you down and lifting his head to feast.
Your fists are clenching in your restraint and your moans are flowing from your chest like a river. His tongue worked your overstimulated clit, suckling and licking. He ate as if you were the finest delicacy, trying to savor but also consuming you with greed.
Your body just responded to him without a fight, you were his puppet and he pulled the strings but you happily danced for him, giving him what he wanted. Yet again you feel his fingers push into you, you’d never get enough of his fingers, he knew how to use them and he knew how to use you. You were a howling mess against the pillow when you feel your next orgasm approaching. How did he expect you to stay up like this? Your legs felt like jelly and you were falling a part.
“You can do it, baby. I feel it. You’re almost there,” he murmured against your pussy, “One more and you can have what you want but you gotta show me you want it,”
Oh God did you want it, and bad! Your head felt fuzzy, your body was playing tug of war, fighting between it being too much versus you wanting it.
You gave in. Pussy pulsing, chest burning from hyperventilating and muscles aching. Despite it all, you’re cumming for him again, giving into your deep craving to just be his doll.
“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he cheers, drinking you in. He pulls himself away to position you on your back, quickly working to remove your restraints and gag.
“Sit up for me, Sugar,”
Your head lulling to the side, both of you giggling about it. He has you drink some more water and cleans your face with the towel again.
“I’m ready,” it was a simple whisper, “Show me what I’ve been missing. Please, King,”
The title takes Noah by surprise. He thought it would take a few sessions to get you fully under his spell but, you truly were for him. You were ready to bow to him, to fulfill every quest he bestowed upon you.
It kind of pulled at his heart strings. Whenever he was out in the scene he only cared about showing the subs a good time, a time for him and them to release and never see each other again. But this, this was euphoria.
“Lie down for me,” he hums, taking off his lounge wear and boxers so he’s bare just like you are.
He was a beautiful man to begin with but to see him like this in all his glory? It had you feeling like royalty. Others got to see him, yes, but you… only you get to see him.
He makes sure you’re comfortable before he inches forward, the tip nudging your clit and he grabbed your hands when you flinched away at the contact, lacing his fingers between yours.
“Don’t run away from me,” his lips were so plump, glistening with his spit and you just know they still taste like you.
“Call it before I ruin you,” he gave you one more chance.
“Do it�� it wasn’t a teasing phrase. You wanted it. You have yearned long enough and now your wish is his command. His pins your clasped hand to the bed and takes your free hand, guiding it to his cock.
“Take it,” he ordered.
He was a perfect mix of girth and length, a mouth water red tip that shines with precum, two prominent veins, yeah- he was going to destroy you.
You couldn’t help but stroke him, watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes closed gently, this is the face of a King all right. Scooting closer to him, not wanting to leave any space, you slapped his tip against your own clit, the breath of both of you hitching in tandem. The noises that emitted from between the two of you, while you rubbing him against your entrance, were sinful.
“Show me what you’ve been wanting. Show me how bad you need me,” he growls, hiking both of your legs around his waist.
You guide him into you slowly, the eyes of both of you going wide, rejoicing in the way he fit in you like a missing puzzle piece, filling you up to make you whole.
“Fuck!,” choking on your own spit, the heels of your feet pulled him in so he could bottom out. You needed to catch your breath because you know once he gets started, you’ll lose it again. He drew in a shaky breath, bewitched by how good you feel.
“Give it to me,” you squeeze his hand, “Make me yours. I want to be yours. Ple- Oooooh fuck!!,”
His hips drew back and snapped into you, cutting you off as the pleasure drowns you. He kept the stacattoed pace, just taking in your expressions.
But then he saw the way you looked at him, it was a look of complete surrender, a look that says “I love you, I trust you”
It was a look to tell him to let go.
So, he used his free hand to take your thigh and press it back so your knee was almost touching your chest. This wasn’t Noah, the King was here and he was going to show you exactly why he was given that title.
You’re pinned beneath him from all angles and it’s overwhelming. His chain dangling in your face with each thrust, his voice smooth like suede as he talks you through it.
“Just like that, pretty girl. Take what I give you,”
Your moans slipped out like a hot knife to butter, he was fucking you through the mattress, bodies tangled and noises echoing through the room, he was making you melt.
“S-so fucking good!!,” the tears were spilling from your eyes and he just kissed them away without missing a beat.
“I know, Sugar,” he bows his head into your neck to leave a trail of bites, sinking his teeth into your dewy skin, your cries of surprise being music to his ears. You welcomed the pain of his biting, he had beautiful teeth and you always wondered what it would feel like for him to bite you. You don’t care if any marks are left. You’re his, he can leave marks for you to brandish all he wants.
“I’m so proud of you,” he grunted into your ear, “Coming to me all vulnerable, wanting me to take care of you and now you’re taking it like the good little slut you always wanted to be,”
“Please!,” your free hand tangles in his hair, your other makes crescent shaped dents in the back of his hand that held yours, “Please, fuck! Don’t stop!,”
Noah lifts his head to see the spaced out look in your eyes, half lidded and dick drunk. He never thought he’d see you like this.
“Please what? Use your words,” he pulls back from you to watch the look of despair on your face when he slows down.
Your words are caught in your throat, finding it hard to make a coherent sentence.
“Please, what, Sugar? Don’t make me ask again” He lets your leg go to grab the bar of the caged bed above your head, preparing to pick up his pace when you admit what you need.
“W-wanna cum around your cock,” it was a strong wail, one of pure carnal desire.
“You need it that bad?,” he teases.
“King, please. I need it so bad!!,”
The wind is knocked out of you as he sets his pace, rolling his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing against every sensitive spot within you, causing you both to be vocal. A harmony unmatched. His whimpers fueling you to make it to the finish line. He wasn’t ashamed of the noises he made, especially because he saw how they impacted you.
He let go of your hand and smacked you just like he did earlier, eyes rolling once again as the heat only adds to the pleasure.
“More, please, please, please!!,”
“Such a dirty fucking slut. Getting off to her King slapping her around like a rag doll,” he smacked you again, earning another loud cry from you, he could feel just how much you love it, he can feel it when you clench around him each time his hand meets your cheek.
“Yes, yes,” your eyes never left his, not shying away.
“You like it when it hurts?,” another slap delivered, “You like it when it hurts knowing I’ll make it all better?,”
“Fuck!,” the tears just keep spilling but he knows they’re tears of release, of pleasure, they’re tears for him. Another offering to the King.
“I’m gonna make it all better, Sugar. Just keep being good and taking it, okay?,”
“Y-yes,”
He grabs your cheeks, squishing them together again so his tongue can slide in your mouth effortlessly. Teeth clashing, spit being swapped, the energy between you two was potent, a potion that you’d keep coming back for, drinking it down without being asked.
“I wanna cum for you,” biting his bottom lip, you pull back with a fucked out smirk on your face, “I wanna make a mess. I wanna show you that I’m worthy,”
“I already know that you are, baby,” his thumb tracing small circles onto your clit, his other releasing the bar and coming to wrap around your neck, “I know you’re my pretty little slut who will do anything to stay in my good graces,”
When his hand began to squeeze at your neck you were done for. Your moans came out in tremors, you were clutching onto him in anywhere you can. You groan at the loss of contact on your clit until his thumb is replaced with the same toy he wrecked you with earlier.
“You’re gonna take this toy from me. You’re going to be a good girl for your King and make yourself cum on my cock. You hear me?,” his voice was dangerously low now, letting you know there was no negotiation.
With a shaking hand you snake your hand between the two of you, grabbing the bulbous toy from him and holding it against yourself despite your body telling you to pull away.
“You’re doing great, baby,” he assures, a soft kiss placed on your lips, “Just focus on me. I’m right here,”
He was so close now. One hand on your throat and the other holding the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together.
“My King,” you gasp, chest heaving as you feel yourself ready to fall off the edge.
“I’m gonna catch you. I’m always going to catch you, baby,”
Your eyes stared deeply into his and you just sobbed, needing this more than anything and you just cried. Getting fucked within an inch of your life so good you’re crying was not something you expected to happen considering your past endeavors with men who only cared about getting their own rocks off.
“I know. I know,” he’s still driving his hips deep into you and you’re circling the toy lightly on your swollen, cum soaked bud, you were almost there.
“Give it to me, Sugar. Give me what you owe me,”
And that was all she wrote.
With one deep gasp to fill your lungs he delivers a strong thrust, your fingers trembling around the toy so hard you accidentally turned it up to the next level and you were done for.
You practically screamed as Noah siphoned your orgasm out of you. You were shuddering beneath him as he kept thrusting, still talking you through it.
“You’re okay. You did so good for me, I’m right here. Fuck!”
With one last searing kiss, Noah is stilling his movements, emptying himself inside of you, both of you practically giving each other mouth to mouth CPR as you try to catch your breath. His head has fallen in the crook of your neck and your eyes are fighting to stay open.
“You can come back down now. Come back to me,” he mutters.
You slowly regain all your senses back. Taking in your surroundings and what just happened. As everything hits you, your cries echo in the room.
“Hey,” Noah is quick to sit both of you up and set you in his lap, “What’s going on in that head of yours?,”
Swallowing your cries and wiping your eyes you search for him, eyes connecting, the same beautiful brown eyes you could point out in any crowd.
“Thank you,” is all you say, “I needed that. More than you know,”
He smiles in relief, worried that the scene had somehow upset you.
“We got to get you cleaned up. We’ve got some aftercare to do and some things to talk about,”
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Once both of you were all bathed, Noah took the time to moisturize your skin, apply soothing lotion to your ass and even being gentle in doing your skincare routine for you.
Once he has you curled up in his bed, he went to go clean the other room and brought back some snacks and water with electrolyte packets.
He takes it upon himself to feed you all while affirming how good you were. That you’re loved and cared for, not wanting to leave any room for doubt to sneak in.
“You okay to talk?,” he questions.
You sit up against the headboard, worried about what this talk can pertain to.
“I see the cogs turning, relax,” he soothes, “If you want this like I want this we need to talk,”
“I want this,” you answer definitively. He can’t help but laugh at your excitement.
“I know it’s a little too late to say that I don’t want to rush into things but, I’d like to rewind a bit and start at square one,”
“And that is?,”
“A date,” he answers simply. Sure you’ve gone on friend dates all the time but this is different, this is serious, “I want to build it from the ground up. I know we’ve been friends for ages and have built trust but this is different and I want to build a stronger foundation because I want this to work,”
You take in his words, listening as he goes over his requests and needs for the relationship. You gave him your own list of demands and found yourselves giddy at the fact that yes, you two are a living cliche.
But who cares?
It was you and Noah against the world now.
Til Kingdom Come.
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This idea was burning in my head for ages and I had to write it!!
Please be sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, thank you for your support!! 🥹
~Berry 🫐
tags: @lma1986 @thisbicc @theroyaldixon @whatitsdecending
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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year
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I NEED YOU EXCITED, I DON'T WANNA FIGHT IT | Y. OKKOTSU
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✵ tags ; established relationship, friends to lovers, afab +fem!reader, forward!reader, back and forth power dynamics, dry-humping, hickies / marking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding. fingering, dirty talk, 18+
✵ wc ; 7.3k (good lord)
✵ a/n ; written with my beloved @princess-okkotsu in mind!! i hope i did your boy justice </3 and thank u for everything literally wouldn't have passed chem w/o you
so not used to have such little warnings on a fic. lol. title is from fire and desire by drake.
✵ synopsis ; yuta wants to do right by you which is why he's so determined to take your relationship slowly. well, he tries too, anyway.
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Yuta Okkotsu is a believer of doing things the right way. 
He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he hangs out alone in your bedroom. He closes his eyes, elbows resting on the little table, face buried in his palms. Maybe it’s closer to a form of manifestation - like if he says it with enough hooplah it will mean something more than a jumble of words and syllables. 
He must clarify that he is trying to do the right thing right now. He is trying so very hard to do the right thing because Yuta Okkotsu wants to remain righteous where possible. 
It’s part of his job as a sorcerer, now well into his 20’s and more conscious of the world around him. He’s strong enough to put his money where his mouth is and experienced enough to know that trying to maintain some ethical code is part of staying alive in this business. 
And it’s not that Yuta considers himself particularly upright. His friends and colleagues often tell him that he’s a bit unhinged and hard to get a read on. His morals might not always align with greater society, but he never does something that goes against his own beliefs. A lot of which can be summarized quite easily ; anything to defend his comrades.
It really is so important for Yuta to try and be civil in these aspects. Lest he fall into something truly dark. Even he knows what he’s capable of, at least a little. 
That’s why he’s left with no choice than burying all of his thoughts of you and using every ounce of energy he has to suppress it as deep as it can go 
You know, with all the love that’s influenced his life and all of the years he’s spent  learning to be less timid - none of it seems to matter when it comes down to you and him. The logistics of a relationship and the idea of one are two very different things. When it comes to your relationship, he’s been keen in adhering to his strict timeline of milestones. First date, first hand-holding, first deep kiss. It’s a matter of honoring you - because before being boyfriend and girlfriend, you were Yuta’s comrade and companion. Before your relationship status, you're his cherished and valued person. 
So because he’s chivalrous. Because he’s romantic. Because he cares about you. 
And also because the sheer  magnitude of his desires for you perpetually leaves him in a state of distress and disarray. It’s all of the above, all at the same time. And sometimes it leaves him a little overwhelmed. 
He barely manages in his daily life but this? This is torturous. 
Being in your bedroom unprompted is destroying every ounce of self-restraint he’s built through these last three months. He’s made it through your relentless bullying without giving into his Earthly desires.
It’s just too ideal in a way, being in here. Everything feels like you. There’s pictures of your friends and family around the room. Everything has your scent. Your clothes are littered on the floor and hung over the back of your desk-chair. It’s so you and Yuta loves you and he’s not going to survive being in here despite it all.
It’s embarrassing. Yuta is not the timid teenager he once was. But for all the ways he’s good at standing his ground, his demeanor is all but worthless when it comes down to you.
You’re a few years his senior and you’ve always been a slippery character. He’s enriched by your curiosity of the world. You’re a researcher and archivist of cursed information, coming out of the Kyoto branch. You have plenty of accolades and always manage to teach him something new and come out of difficult things on top. 
Mostly, Yuta recognizes all of the good in your heart. He really thinks very highly of you.
There was an obvious passion for your work that Yuta was endeared by in the initial stages of your relationship. Plus you were easy to talk to. You’ve been a good friend to Yuta for years now, ever since you called on him to do some research on him and Rika. And, as the years passed you became closer until one night it hit him that his feelings of admiration were a little closer to something like love. 
And with big, wet tears in his eyes (and a fair bit of liquor in his system) he blubbered about his feelings for you. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting at the time. You were happy which was great, but there was also something so lax about it all. Yuta remembers it so vividly. The way you waltzed up to him, tucked some hair behind his ears and kissed him gingerly with all the confidence in the world. Like it mattered but it didn’t. Like nothing could be more obvious than your feelings for each other. 
“I’m pretty crazy about you too, Okkotsu-san.” 
After asking if that meant you were dating like the bumbling, lovesick fool he is - you officially began going out as a couple. And at first, it was smooth sailing. It wasn’t too different from your usual hangouts.
Eventually though, you had pointed out that it doesn’t really feel like you were dating. Suggested that maybe sleeping together would help break the ice a little. That was what started this moral dilemma. 
Being honest, it wasn’t like Yuta hadn’t considered it. What thoughts he cooked up while alone in the sanctity of his bedroom is between him and the heavens only. It was just the way you suggested it. You saying it made it all feel so real. And Yuta wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He wants to cherish you so much that he felt like he couldn’t consider your offer too lightly. 
And he told you as much, hand in yours and red-faced to which you only blew some hair out of his eyes and laughed. A simple okay, a nod, and a kiss.
Of course, if everything had been smooth sailing this would be a different thing altogether. While Yuta had declined sleeping with you too soon, you had absolutely no plans to make his life easy. He’s not sure how much of it is on purpose. Knowing you, probably a lot. You’re a smart girl, after all.
So all of your bending over and tongue kissing before going home and selfies that just border on boudoir are probably very purposeful. But he’s endured it all. He should cherish you more. He’s been determined to not give in. 
The fact he’s all but ready to blow his load over just being in your room makes him feel pathetic. And maybe he is, a little. But only for you. 
Yuta likes to think of himself as a collected individual. Really.  He knows being this worked up over something as innocuous as his girlfriends room is ridiculous. He knows he’s being ridiculous.
But he really, really wants to uphold his beliefs here. So he’s stiff, sitting with his hands clasped and holding it together just barely. 
He practically jumps out of his skin when you return to your room with a tray of refreshments. 
“Woah, Yuta. You okay?”
He turns around to look at you. A mistake, apparently. His eyes land on the sight of your bare legs before he forces himself to meet your eyes. You’re so pretty to him. Always so beautiful without any effort. 
“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, just got lost in thought.”
You put the tray down on the table in front of him before sitting on the edge of your bed - facing him. The distance between you is minimal. You reach out to pet the top of his head with the palm of your hand, scratching his jaw tenderly. Yuta feels loved by the touch. 
“You sure? Looks like you saw a ghost.”
Your genuine worry makes his spine feel like it’ll melt. He puts his hands over yours, rubbing his cheek against your palm.
“Promise I’m okay. Just—it's nothing serious.” 
“Mm. Even if it’s nothing serious, I wanna know what stuff you’re worried about, ‘kay? So tell me if you want.”
He feels unsteady but so happy. 
“Thank you, my love.”
“Yeah, of course. You wanna keep sitting on the floor or…?”
The minute you ask him, he feels the hair stand up on his neck. 
“The bed…?”
You give him a look of confusion before you break out into a knowing grin.
“Oh, I forgot. I mean to remain chaste, my liege. Just wanna cuddle a bit.”
“Are you making fun of me?” He asks, not masking the pout in his voice. 
You tilt your head to one side, leaning  back on your palms. 
“A little,” You say mischievously, shrugging “I’m used to your lifestyle of celibacy.” 
He frowns at you. “It’s not like that, I just want to—“
“I just want to cherish you because I love you and want you for more than sex yadda yadda yadda. I know. And I respect your wishes even if I think it’s silly.” You say, taking the words right out of his mouth. His frown deepens.
“It’s not silly to me.” He says, almost petulantly. At this, you grab his face in your hands which catches him off-guard. You knock your forehead against his, bent over to do it. 
“I know that too, you dummy. The point is that I’m not trying to get in your pants right now.”
He can’t help but smile, pulling away to kiss at your wrist. You giggle. 
“Well, what do you want?”
“To be wrapped up in each other like otters.”
“So romantic.”
“Right? So get up here.” 
He gives in sooner rather than later. You scoot till your back is along the wall next to your bed and Yuta wastes no more time in joining you. Your bed is crazy comfortable. Just laying it in makes him want to fall asleep almost immediately. He gets cozy  before directing his gaze to you in front of him. He feels like he’s gonna throw up and the only thing that’ll come out is his heart. You give him a look of amusement. 
“Enjoying the view?” You tease. He laughs, leaning forward to tuck his face into your neck.
“Yeah. Smells like you,” 
“So cute.” 
“Don’t know how to feel about being called cute.” He says honestly. He peers up at you and you’re giggling and he can feel his heart rate sky-rocket. You twirl a piece of his hair around your index finger. 
“You’re cute and cool and handsome. Better?” 
“Yeah. Yes.” 
“Mm,” You respond. He looks at you as your expression drifts off somewhere. He can’t take his eyes away from your face “Sorry you had to stay over.” 
“It’s fine. It’d be a shame if you didn’t get anything to look over while we were there. If you make any breakthroughs, it’d be good for Gojo-sensei.” 
“You still call him that even though you graduated so many years ago?”
He flushes slightly. 
“Force of habit. My point stands.” 
“Mhm. Thanks for being so supportive. I didn’t think it was that late, y’know? I would’ve tried to hurry if I knew,” You say thoughtfully “But I like having you over.” 
He gives you a once over as he pulls away, eyes flitting to your lips. You give him a small grin. 
“Kiss me.” 
He looks at you apologetically. 
“That’s not fair. We can’t kiss? Making out doesn’t count as intimate relations, Yuta.” 
“Okay, but it can lead to them.” 
“If it’s that serious, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 
“Wait, no.” 
“Then kiss me.” 
He sighs. 
“Just kissing, okay?” 
“Okay, you monk.” 
He laughs at the comment before pressing his lips to yours tenderly. You have no such intent of leaving it that way - your hand on immediately on the nape of his neck. The softness of your tongue makes Yuta feel like there’s fizz in his head - like the water inside of him is seltzer. He thought you would at least try to give him some mercy. 
He probably shouldn’t expect that from his favorite girl. He pulls away, out of breath. A little line of saliva breaks off between you. Your grin is eye-catching, like glass in the sun. Yuta wouldn’t mind burning in the magnitude of your light. 
“Just kissing,” He emphasizes, trying to be firm. You hum, hand on his cheek. You rub your thumb on his lip tenderly, looking at him square in the eyes. He’s stronger than this, he swears. 
“We are just kissing though?” 
“Baby.” He frowns. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach and he’s so entranced by it he nearly forgets what he’s trying to convince you of. 
“Since when is making out too naughty? Teenagers do stuff like that, Yuta. We’re grown-ups.” 
“That’s the whole problem.” He says back in faux exasperation. You look like you’re going to kiss him again, but you lean into his ear instead. Your breath is warm and ticklish against his skin. 
“Yuta,” You murmur with such clear intent he feels himself break down under the weight “Can’t we have sex, hm?” 
Blood rushes down to his dick so fast he’s embarrassed. He stares at you as you pull away, a look  in your eyes that makes him want to collapse. Of course he does. He wants to have so much sex with you so often it’s starting to drive him up a wall. Is there anyone in the world other than him masochistic enough to turn down the offer? He’s doubtful to say the least. 
“I want to,” He admits. You beam and nod. Your hand slides down to squeeze his waist. He swallows thickly. 
“Yeah? Then why can’t we?” 
“I just..don’t want to rush things,” He replies with as much conviction as he possibly can. The sincerity must reach you because you soften a little “We’ve known each other for a long time. And it was already hard to get here. I just want to make sure it’s right.” 
“You’re so thoughtful,” You murmur to him, running over his hip bone with your thumb “And that makes you really sexy, you know?” 
“What if it gets all messed up?” 
“Our relationship is stronger than that, yeah. It can withstand a handjob.” 
He groans at your vulgarity before laughing. 
“I’m being serious!” 
“I know and that’s so sweet of you. But I really, really don’t think it’ll be that bad if we have sex. We might fuck like rabbits for a few days but that’s not really the end of the world.” 
He feels heat creep up his next as you nuzzle your nose against his, whispering softly. 
“And doesn’t that sound nice? Cooped up in this little room, fucking each others brains out. Just you and me.” 
He feels his dick steel against his will. He looks at you seriously, a fire in his expression. 
“You’re being unfair.”  
“Who, me? Never. I’m just telling you what I think.” 
He groans in complaint. Is this the right thing to do? He doesn’t think so. But it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He really, really wants to have sex and there’s never been such a perfect opportunity. You’re a little too good at turning him on and he’s a little too pent up to think about it more clearly. It feels like the only thing he can think about, a side-effect of this whole conundrum. There is a right way to go about this and he can’t say for certain yours isn’t the one. 
Plus the vivid picture you’ve painted of the two of you fucking in a room for hours is making his whole body burn up with lust. Fuck, the things he could do to you in all that time without it ever being enough. 
Yuta didn’t know he was aching for you so badly until he was this close to having you. 
“Baby,” He can feel how deep his voice is getting. It’s taking all of his strength to keep it in. 
“How do you want me? Tell me. You’ve been thinking about me right?”
“Always,” He confesses, staring at you without any restraint “Always thinking of you.”  
“Doing what?”
Oh. This is… 
Oh.
“I’ve never seen you naked.”
“Then you daydream about seeing me naked? How tame.” 
“It’s more than that, it’s—I want to make you feel good. You’re so good to me. And I wanna…”
You stare at him. You’re so cheeky. 
“You wanna?”
“Want you to feel good. But because of me. All because of me.”
A wave of heat passes through him. He looks at you and you look...different. You look turned on, fingers carding through his hair. Right now all Yuta can think about is how much he wants. A word with so much weight behind it he can hardly keep up. God doesn’t Yuta want you more than he’s ever wanted anything. 
The room feels like it’s hotter than it was a few seconds last. A thick tension spreads over everything like jam. Yuta is too dazed to do anything. He can only watch as you sit up. You guide him to lay on his back and climb on top of him with ease. Your thighs feel warm and soft as you straddled him, taking his hands to put them on your waist.
He slides them up underneath your shirt lightly, enough to feel the warmth of your skin on his calloused fingers. Your eyes lock as you lean forward the slightest bit, caging Yuta in with your hand next to his head. 
“So possessive,” You tease, seeing right through him like you usually do. He really is. He thought he was a little better at hiding it “Already all yours, Yuta.” 
That makes his dick twitch. You must feel it because you laugh at him about it and his hands grip even tighter. He’s gonna lose his mind, being swept up by you so easily. He’s gotten so used to forfeiting restraint. Always goes in head first because that’s how cowards have to learn to fight. But he’s forgotten how to hold back. How to suppress. 
Right now, he feels like an animal. He feels like a restless hound dog, straining against the spiked collar he’s tried to keep himself in place. What does that make you, he wonders? 
In an attempt at transparency, he looks at you and says “I want you so much.”
And your reply is about all the permission he needs. 
“Then take me,” 
Yuta heeds your words and takes. It’s easy to flip you both over from where you are. He mumbles an apology as you yelp in surprise - and he hopes you’ll forgive him for his impatience. He’s been picturing this for months now. He knows what he wants, and that’s you on your back with him on top of you - making you feel so fucking good you can’t stand it. He slots his legs between yours, hovering over you as your bodies press into each other. 
You wrap your arms around Yutas neck with ease and he leans in to kiss you passionately. Despite where you are, it’s clear you're helping set the pace. Yuta is eager to follow. It starts off slow enough but when you pull away once, you're opening your mouth enough to let him in deeper. You stick your tongue out and Yuta follows suit. Everything is so hot he feels like it’ll burn, and you taste like mint toothpaste. He likes swapping spit with you like this, the messy way the drool runs down his chin and yours like you can’t get enough for each other. 
He has no idea how long you stay like that. Just kissing is a dangerous game. The nip of your mouth and the press of your incisors in his lower lip leave him shuddering. His hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and he can’t help himself but hump into the soft plush of your tummy. Even through the stiff material of his jeans he can feel you. 
He quivers and whimpers into your mouth but you swallow the noise with delight. Your fingers find themself at the nape of his hand reaching up, tugging at the root. You pull away to give him a chance to breathe. He sounds pathetic, he knows it, but fuck he can’t hold it in anymore. Your voice is cool and collected yet rich and heady. It feels like a salve to his raw nerves, calming to him. He closes his eyes and humps into you and everything feels like it’ll disappear. Yuta just wants to give into his base needs. He wants to be all yours as much as he wants you to be all his and everything is so tangled up in his mind. 
“That feel good, Yuta?” 
“Y-yeah. Yes. Oh, yes.” 
You giggle at him a little and Yuta looks up at you. Look at the swell of your lips and the flush and sheen on your skin. Too much, too much, too much. 
But not enough at the same time, he rubs his cock against you again, harder. 
“So pent up,” You comment smoothly and Yuta groans in agreement “Why don’t I help you a little?” 
Unsure of what you mean, he stares at you hazily. You push him off, making him stand to his knees and he watches you as your hands come to the ends of your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it somewhere. You have nothing on underneath. His mouth dries out almost completely. Bare skin of your shoulders and the curve of your neck and your chest so open. Your nipples are hard against the cool air, standing to attention.
Your b0dy is so much sexier than he could’ve conjured up in his head. The real thing doesn’t even compare, and the way you move as you take off the rest is so fucking mesmerizing. Yuta watches you take off your pants next -  you put your legs up to slide them off. 
There’s not a single part of you that Yuta doesn’t want to claim for himself. He traces the outline of your legs, the bend of your knee and the arch of your foot. He should worship you, after all - he was right for trying to restrain it before. If he had this in the beginning, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might become. He’s scared of it even now.
 Yuta is of course the type of man to get sick on his own devotion. He’s always been like that. That’s what the rings on his hands always mean. He wants to make himself sick on you. 
Nothing could be more intense than just watching you undress, he doesn't think. You toss your shorts somewhere, but leave your panties on. Yuta still has his clothes on. The only barrier between you now is a thin layer of cotton. There’s a damp spot on it. He can’t stop his hand from reaching out, pressing into it with his thumb as gently as he can. You gasp. His eyes go wide. 
“It’s okay,” You assure, a smile on your face “Just wasn’t expecting it.”
He hums, dumbstruck, and smooths his thumb over the seam. There’s something salacious about the boundary itself. The material that’s keeping him from just taking you. 
“C-can you leave them on..? For a bit?” He asks. You blink twice. Even if you’re confused, there’s not any judgment. Yuta really does love you. 
“Uh-huh. If you want me too,”  
You give him the floor this time, Yuta thinks. He takes his shirt off too. He doesn’t take his jeans off completely, though. Only unzips them, pushing them down past his boxers to give him some breathing room. And with that he’s back on top of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips but moves down towards your jaw. The little fluttery sigh that leaves you makes everything close in around him. Like it’s only you two in the entire world. He leaves them down your neck, down your collarbone and sternum. Warm open mouth kisses trying all over every inch of you. 
His hands shake as he reaches out for your chest. You chuckle and reach for him. Guide them to squeeze your tits firm, a cheeky look in your eye. He tries to take more confidence in it now. Gropes the fat between his fingers, palms over your nipples in appreciation. He’s entranced by it, pushing them together and teasing the hardened buds with the pads of his fingers.
“So pretty,” He mumbles, mostly to himself “You’re so pretty,” 
“You’re pretty too, Yuta.” 
He can feel a blush crawl up his skin. He ducks his head down to take your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan of pleasure that encourages him to suck harder on one and use his fingers to tease you where his mouth can’t reach. Your sighs are shaky and you're gently losing your composure.
 He wants to shatter you completely. 
He grabs your thighs and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist. And you do with his guidance, a well of desire about to burst within him. He adjusts until his cock is snug against your clothed cunt. A broken oh, leaves your lips and Yuta humps into you, shifting until he hits the sweet spot. Your voice sounds again, pitchy and melodic like a wind chime and that’s when Yuta knows he has it. 
He has you right where he wants you now. Bodies pressed into each other and so involved, so together. Yuta can feel you everywhere. He’s always been in sync with you but every notch is turned to ten. The shallow rise and fall of your stomach, the slightest tenseness in your spine that melt away when he gives you a little attention. He has you in his grasp but he wants to hold onto you tighter. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, the way his nerves are revved up.
He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his clothed, hard cock against your cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. There’s something so primal about it that Yuta can’t take it. He can’t think clearly anymore, lost in the feeling of dull pleasure. If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much. You’re both naked mostly except for where you both need each other. So close in proximity that Yuta can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing, pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. There’s something romantic about the mutual desperation. 
Drawing out those moans as he sucks at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent up and needy and fucking horny he is all for you. 
Just humping your soft, sweet little cunt through your panties makes Yuta want to risk everything he’s got. The push and pull of too much and  not enough at the same time.  It’s so fucking euphoric. Your fabric keeps wetter and wetter, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling through his boxers. Mixing together so that there’s less friction than there should be, material all soaked through and tacky. 
He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff and Yuta pulls away to look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re on edge, in complete bliss and so fucking beautiful. 
“Oh, oh, Yuta - shit, like that. G-gonna, gonna,” 
He doesn’t know what overtakes him, but he babbles on pulling away. 
“Cum for me, please—fuck, baby, p-please, need it,” 
You cum the first time just like that. For Yuta, humping each other like two lovesick teenagers. All for him you get all broken. He can’t help but burn the image of you underneath in his head forever. He needs to see it all again. 
“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” The praise feels like it’s being injected into his bloodstream“You make me feel sho good,” 
The slight slur in your words and praise all together makes him too happy. He kisses you, sloppy and lovedrunk, tongues touching and teeth chattering. 
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Yuta says with as much conviction as any one man could have. You laugh so loud it makes him smile. “I don’t wish well for anyone you dated before me.”  And you laugh again even louder. 
“You sound polite even when you’re threatening people.”  You say with nothing but affection. Yuta wants more. He wants you. Even with this quiet lull, he’s thinking about how he can get you to cum again. 
He nudges his nose to your cheek, kissing the corner of your mouth before he talks. 
“I want you to do it again,” He states, slow and steady, trying to feel out your willingness “And then I want to fuck you,”
“Wanna fuck me after you make me a mess?” You say, much more bluntly than he has. You’re not wrong “Are you a sadist after all, Yuta?”
“You look good when you’re messy. ‘s not my fault.” He replies, a little bite to his words. This delights you to the point he's proud. He does his best not to look uncool and this one time he’s succeeded. 
“Make a mess of me, Yuta,” You encourage, probably because you know he needs it. And he does “I want it.” 
“Yeah,” Comes his reply, as he pulls himself off of you “Me too,” 
The pace slows down now. The room smells of sex and Yuta can still feel the blood rushing in his ears but nothing so frantic. He lays you back, your legs undoing from behind him and resting. Yuta kisses your sternum first, a wave of emotion running through him. He puts his hands on your sides, sliding them down to meet your hips and squeezing tight. 
He kisses his down your body like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He can feel you curl in above him - not completely. But you seem a little astonished, and he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he accomplished something. He works his way lower slowly, rubbing small circles into your skin as often as he can. Caressing you and committing your body to memory. He wants you to feel him as much as he’s feeling you, to feel his touch. The tension in the air is strengthened by his silence. 
If he were saying anything it’d be something like this. Like can you feel it? how much i love you? or i want all of you. Things he can’t often muster up the strength to say. He’s good with his words but not good enough to communicate all of it so bluntly. Yuta is brave in areas other than love. Sometimes your adoration makes all the words clog in his throat. This is better for him, the physicality brings him peace of mind. 
He likes how you feel. Your skin is much softer when he compares it to his, feels so different and more plush and comfortable. Yuta likes taking you in his hands and kneading the skin gently enough to relax you. Lower and lower, a trail of wet marks until he’s close to your clothed cunt. He stares at the sticky material, kissing it feather light before redirecting his attention to your thighs. 
He starts again, at the bend of your knee - and works his way inward. He’s rougher now, taking time to mark up your inner thigh with precision. Yuta can’t help himself, placing kisses in the last places his teeth bit you. He does it again and again, up along one thigh and then moving to the other until you’re covered in them. 
You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Yuta as his breath fans over your cunt, so completely soaked the fabrics a different color. His tongue runs over the material, a shameless moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch. It’s salty and a little bitter, the mix of his pre-cum and yours altogether. Yuta goes to do it again anyway. The mess of it gets him excited, unconsciously rubbing into the sheets underneath him. 
“O-oh, Yuta.” 
He shivers, hands planing over the tops of your thighs as he brings him down close to him. 
“Yeah, yeah baby. Just me and you,” 
A soft laugh leaves your mouth. Yuta can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter, because that’s what he wants more. Rolls the fabric off of your legs with a deep sigh, a pleased hum. He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelled from need. Yuta kisses it without thinking. 
He starts slow. Lays his tongue flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up. The taste of you covers his mouth, tangy and slightly sweet - Yuta can’t get enough of you. He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy close. His nose bumps into your sex. He peers up at you with his lashes. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over - licking at your clit with enthusiasm. Your clit is hard and needy, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle of his tongue as he gains a sort of rhythm. He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Yuta knows he’s hit the right pace. 
And he stays like that, your pussy soaking his mouth and chin. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft oh above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is twitching without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding. 
“Don’t t-tease so much,”  You pant. 
Yuta nearly blows his load listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. He listens though, pushing his middle finger into you with ease. It doesn’t take too much effort. Your insides are so incredibly wet for him. Your walls are so soft and inviting, syrupy to the touch. Yuta loves feeling them. He gives you time to adjust to the new sensation, fucking in and out slow enough that the tension melts. He gets knuckle deep with his middle finger and when it doesn’t seem like you’re tense anymore - he goes and adds another. 
He does both in tandem - and there’s a period where it’s all a bunch of sensation for you. Eventually it stops being just a feeling, turns into pleasure. He curls his fingers up against you hard, rubbing the soft and spongy area and he can feel you practically lurch forward. Your spine arches, mouth dropped open in a soft ‘o’. Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt and with your clit in his mouth - he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside. 
Yuta isn’t one for competition or ego. He’s always been easy-going. But something about you being underneath him like this, moaning for him like this - makes him feel like he should put in a little more effort to prove himself. He wants to make you feel so good, wants to see your composure break down steadily. He wants you praise him for it, to fuck each other like animals in the thereafter of your second orgasm. He pushes towards that goal steadfastly, and soon enough your body catches up with him. 
Yuta can practically feel your stomach tighten. You let out a noise, a string of mismatched syllables like a warning. Yuta only hums in encouragement, keeping his pace exactly the same. Feeling it is incredible. His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath. 
Your back curves in a C as you cum, hard for him and he can feel it. He can feel you cum. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Yuta made you cum twice in a row and he’s already itching to do it a third. 
You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sigh deeply, and Yuta licks his fingers. He waits for your adoration, pleased to receive as you pull him up for a kiss. 
“You’re so fucking good, Yuta,” You say and Yuta feels his resolve crumble. He needs to fuck you immediately “So, so good to me baby.” 
He whimpers into your mouth. “I need you.”
You laugh breathlessly, your hand reaching between your bodies to squeeze his cock. Yuta shudders and you giggle to yourself. 
“Yeah. Bet you’re feeling pent up, Yuta. How about I treat you this time? That okay?” 
“Treat me?” 
“By riding you,” You say, smiling at him. He gets chills from the offer “You want that?” 
“Oh. Oh, fuck - please. Please?” 
You smile at him. 
“Lay on your back, sweet boy.” 
Sweet boy. He swallows thickly but does as you say. Lays back and watches you climb over him a second time tonight - this time with a much more obvious intent. He can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he finds you - no matter how many times he sees you, it’s not easy to get used to. 
You sit up on his lap, naked and beautiful, your hangs tugging down his boxers just enough to free his cock. He hisses at the sensation of air, then moans because your hand squeezed around the shaft. Yuta watches, bewitched, by how you spit into the palm of your hands and let it drip down onto his cock. You stroke until he’s covered in it, saliva making a mess of him. When he’s all wet, you scoot forward just slightly. A hand ends up on his chest as you pull your hips up. 
Guiding the tip to your hole, you sink down on Yuta finally. He can only recognize loosely that there’s no condoms to be seen but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. There’s a slight sensation of tension that quickly gives away to nothing but slick, white-hot pleasure. You feel amazing. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt in his entire life and each time you drop down another inch - he’s biting his cheek trying not to cum immediately. That’d be such a waste, even if you’ve promised to fuck like rabbits - Yuta wants to make this last long. 
You lower yourself steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles before you finally seem comfortable. You lean forward, your hand next to Yuta’s head as you look at him. 
“Cum when you feel like you need to, ‘kay?” 
Yuta just swallows. 
Before he gets a chance to adjust to the feeling, you pick your hips and slam them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. Yuta nearly screams, his hands immediately shooting to your hips to try and slow you down. You give him a wry grin, He almost wants to plead for your mercy. 
“Want me to go slower?” 
“Please be nice.” 
You giggle but heed his request. Repeating the motion but slower as promised, you rock yourself steadily onto Yuta’s cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. Your insides feel like they’ll melt him completely, make him liquid from the inside out. You’re picturesque riding him, tits bouncing and leaned forward enough that Yuta can see the concentration on your face. He watches you find your own pleasure in it too - somewhere half-way between grinding and bouncing that makes you look so good. He feels so incredible like this. 
He moves his hands so they’re grabbing your ass and only moves with you slightly. Not enough to change the pace, but to meet you. The room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin - a tacky smack as your bounces hard enough to hit Yutas thighs. Something about is so vulgar, but something about is so sensual. He can feel every nerve in his body standing on edge. Your hand moves gently between your bodies to tease your clit as you ride and Yuta can’t help but be impressed by your stamina. He feels so spoiled. Feels so mind-numbingly good he wants to go brain dead while you drain for everything he’s got. 
Your expression is blissed out as you hit your stride, absolutely debauched. He can feel you again, another rush of arousal. He’s getting better at telling when you’re close. Your pussy is so sloppy all for him, because of him. So messy that it’s dripping down his cock onto his balls, all over the sheets underneath you. He can feel you clench in anticipation - the sudden spasming in the build up. 
“Gonna cum again and I want you cum right after me, yeah baby? Can you do that?” 
Yuta groans. 
“Pleasepleaseplease.” Is all he can make out. You laugh, breathy. Your pace is still the same as you rub your clit. The third time you cum is less intense. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else. Even still, you clench around his cock hard - getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago. 
It’s in the tremors that Yuta finally feels in touch with himself again. He loses himself completely. Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catching up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. His eyes shoot open then go back closed. The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Yuta finally cums he sees nothing but white stars in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak - so he holds onto you tight and finishes to the sound of your gentle coaxing. Your voice is shot hoarse as you coo to him.
“That’s it baby, cum for me. That’s it, there you go.” Echoes around in his head. Cum spurts out of him, thick and hot in your walls and he doesn’t even try to pull out as he goes completely limp underneath you. 
When he opens his eyes back up again, you're both just as ragged as each other. Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing. He hugs you tight to his chest as you lay on top of him - naked bodies and tangled limbs. 
“I love you,” Yuta says blearily. You laugh. 
“I love you too, Yuta.” 
__ 
After you and Yuta manage the energy to shower, you find yourselves back in bed. It’s late when you’re finally ready to sleep, being in the same positions you were before. Only this time with new sheets. 
Yuta lets you into his arms, wrapping them around you as you nuzzle into his chest. 
“So. Was it worth breaking your rules?” 
Yuta can’t help but break out into laughter at your question. He nods his head, a flush on his expression. 
“Yeah. Yeah it was.” 
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awful-little-goose · 1 month
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What's it like in each bishops harem?
This one’s been in the ask box for a WHILEEE (sorry Anon), but I really needed to get my headcanons to a place where I liked them (even wrote some short fics about it- no, I won’t share ✨✨✨)
Enjoy!
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Leshy is completely endeared with all his lovers, but the way he shows his affection can be…unpredictable. Still, he’s easily swiped off his feet and even offering him a simple bouquet is enough to make him swoon. His biggest flaw is that he tends to forget that mortals are…mortal, fragile, and easily traumatized. He is very physical with his affection, and his feelings can sometimes take over him. Mortal bones are oh so fragile, and their minds so much more so…but come to the party, my sweet, enjoy the festivities, the taste of wine, and the burn of alcohol reserved to the gods. Ignore the maddening illusions and your heart in your throat, he looks so delighted.
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Heket is by far the most terrifying goddess of the bunch. She intimidates her spouses and is quite dominant, but has shown to be easily charmed by spouses with a strong personality.
She’ll take her partners to watch terrifying things, such as public executions, sacrifices, cannibal banquets, or even torture sessions, either to show off her power, or intimidate her partners into obeying her. She is prone to violent fits of anger. Still, she does love to just lay around with her partners, and relax under the autumn sun. Deep inside, she cares for some of them, but her ways of showing affection are…disturbing. Now, dear, why haven’t you touched your dinner? She killed them for you herself…
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Kallamar is the sweetest one. He spoils his lovers rotten, compliments them day and night, and expects just as much affection in return. He demands rich, elaborated gifts, and loves taking his darlings on swimming dates. He’s very, VERY easily flustered under all that sass. His biggest flaw is his insecurity, which can lead him to being…quite unstable. Surely, he is loved, and adored…isn’t he?
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Shamura seems cold at times, but they do care for their spouses. Of the bishops (excluding Narinder), they have the least partners, but those they keep are highly loyal, and treated with respect. They can be a little overprotective at times.
They expect their partners to be incredible fighters, and highly cultured. And they won’t hesitate to put them in fights, intellectual or physical, against one another…and they only keep champions. Losers have only one place to be: wrapped in a bundle of silk, hung above the ground, in the nest of Shamura’s scorpions.
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Bonus, Narinder: Narinder doenst have a harem, and is instead waiting for the one soul that will ignite fire to his cold, dead heart. He can be caught thinking about when he’ll meet his dear however, and plans on covering them with tokens of appreciation, honor, and peaceful dreams…
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…as well as keeping them close at his sides. So close they will forget their own individuality.
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darkestspring · 3 months
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Yandere Conquerors ( Visenya / Aegon / Rhaenys) and third wife reader.
"I don't need a third wife." Was the words Aegon once said, and never once had he thought that he'd regret speaking those words.
Not until he met you. You. You. Lovely you.
You were Torrhen Stark's eldest child, a lovely thing that had both beauty and brains, not to mention your inclination for spoiling your direwolf, loving cooing at it as you went off to hunt with the beastly thing.
Aegon had never felt himself want for something so much, not since the conquest began. He wanted you, so desperately. he wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and hear you giggle as he devoured you whole.
He glanced towards his sisters who were both stuck staring at you, not a single trace of envy or jealousy on their face. Rhaenys' cheeks were flushed red, not from the cold Aegon assumes, and Visenya's eyes were filled with a look of utter fondness, which was rare. Visenya hated people more than she liked them.
You stood there, laughing as you threw balls of snow between you and your brother, Brandon.
A loud laugh left you, happiness making your eyes light up as the snow started to drip off of you as it turned into water. "No fair! I wasn't expecting it!" You pouted at your brother.
Brandon laughed, "That is why it was the best time to attack, my dear sister," He took notice of the three before you did and straightened up.
"Dear one." Torrhen called out to you, gesturing you closer and you raced closer.
"Father, welcome back!" You greeted him with a smile before gazing over at the trio of targaryen's and the smile on your face nearly falters but you'd been taught strictly by your mother.
"Welcome," You spoke softly, bowing your head softly. You'd been given the news and you didn't particularly care about going from a princess to a lady. It let you play in the snow with your brother, so you were fine.
"This is my daughter." Torrhen introduced you to them and you smiled up at them.
"It's an honor." Your murmured softly.
"Lady Stark, the honor is solely ours." Visenya took your hand into hers before the other two could even reach out and placed a kiss on the back of your gloved hand and your cheeks flushed bright red at the gesture.
Aegon had determined he was damned by the gods in that moment, he wished he could eat his own words. He needed to find some way to marry you. He was a king now, he could very well do that but Torrhen didn't look like he'd very easily let you go.
"You should visit us on Dragonstone!" Rhaenys spoke softly, leaning down to gaze at you with a smile. "We'd be happy to have you there!"
Torrhen had the odd feeling that he was watching three vultures flock around his daughter. No, that was absurd, it was well known throughout westeros that Aegon refused to take a third wife. Yes, he had no reason to worry.
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months
Text
BNHA Boys: 1st Time Noncon
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female Reader
Boys -> Hawks + Dabi + Bakugo
Warnings at each part (but the title is quite explicit, right?) + NSFW Link (be careful + on twitter (you need a account to see)
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback + Gimme ideas
Hawks
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-> Manipulation
Keigo is a cunning guy, always looking out for a way to get things done his way. He’s used to tricking people, using his tactics to reach his desired goals. But honestly? You have to be the biggest chump he’s ever met in his life. 
Did you actually believe when he deeply sighed and pretended to relent to your begging, just before meekly offering you to walk away from him?
Did your ingenuous self really trust him when Keigo swore on his hero honor - what honor really? - that he’d let you go home, safe and sound?
But the reality is that you fell for it, like a bee attracted to honey. It’s moments like those that Keigo acknowledges how naive and kind-hearted you are. Too cute and good for this twisted, cruel world. 
So that’s why a minor part of him is almost satisfied at the reluctance and doubt that shades your pretty face when he tells you the inflated price for your freedom.  
You clearly don’t want to sleep with him. Your attempts to bargain are immediately turned down and it takes less than five minutes for you to crumble down. 
Keigo almost feels bad at your distressed teary face. But hey, a win is a win.
You try to relax when he starts kissing and touching you. To be calm when he slowly starts making love to you.
But it feels so dead wrong and the overwhelming realization that Hawks was lying about letting you go finally hits you like a brick and you try to push him away, pointlessly make him get off from you. 
But no point in that cause Keigo isn’t gonna let you go anywhere. 
“Deal’s off, babe. I mean, I was willing to let you go and all, but since you ruined the whole mood…there was no need to fight me, ya know? I wasn’t forcing you into anything, was I? But since you broke your promise, I suppose I’m gonna have to keep you here with me.”
(VISUAL)
Dabi
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-> Noncon
Dabi isn’t one to shy away from what he wants.
He takes what he wants, when he wants and how he wants and you don’t get any say in it. 
So, if for a moment you actually believed you could argue or convince the black-haired villain to leave you alone, then you’re not up for a great start with him. 
Dabi doesn’t care when you start crying, spirit battered over the small burns he gives you for trying to fight back. He doesn’t care for your wails of pain when he fucks you in the way he wants to. 
Dabi is sadistic like that, he actually enjoys the terror that floods your entire face when he explains in extensive detail all the scary lustful needs he wants to fulfill by using you. 
He’s definitely one to use tight ropes to bend you in uncomfortable positions when fucking you - just because they allow him better access and less struggle from you.
Doesn’t give a crap about your wellbeing or if you get to cum, those are unnecessary thoughts for him. 
As long as Dabi gets to end his night with a few orgasms, he’s good. 
“Oh sweetheart, there’s no point in begging. That’s not gonna change my mind. And can you even blame me? Just look at you, such a pretty body you have. You’re just too tempting to let go and trust me, I’m not planning to.”
(VISUAL)
Bakugo
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-> Forced Oral - (male receiving)
Bakugo has mild-anger issues and everyone knows that so, if anything, it was entirely your fault for provoking the anger out of him. 
You saw an opportunity to try an escape and you took it, even though it was meant to fail miserably.
Bakugo ends up wrestling you back inside the house, tightly clutching your hair as he angrily shouts at how much of an ungrateful brat you are.
He’s so damn pissed that you almost got away that he can’t control himself. All the adrenaline and anger mixing up in his blood and all he wants is to teach you a proper lesson. Scare you into submission. Make sure that you’ll never act up again.
His hands are cruel as he roughs you up a bit, ignoring your scared shrieks. 
But the real punishment is the way he fucks your mouth.
His pace is so insanely fast, demanding and brutal, and he carries on without caring for the numerous times you gag and choke around his length, unable to pull away because of the vice grip he has on your scalp.
The way he facefucks you is humiliating and brutal, and the cherry on top of the cake is when Bakugo shoots his sticky cum all over your face before leaving you bruised up and with a hurting throat.
Afterwards, Bakugo might feel a bit bad because that’s definitely not how he planned your first time doing something intimate together, but on the bright side - you get much more obedient and calm towards him. 
“The hell you giving me that pathetic look for, huh. You fuckin’ deserved that and you know that. Had you not acted all lunatic and none of this would’ve happened.”
(VISUAL)
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