#wide calf boots

[friendshapedplant]

[ID: Photo of a zipper pull, made using a strip of black leather, key ring held in the fold with a rivet, and a lobster clasp attached to it. /End ID.]

Shoutout to Making things that improve ur life by one million percent if you struggle with zippers pls make/get yourself a larger zipper pull

[autumnrory]

literally why do tall boots not fit ANYBODY'S calves except for perhaps a child

[nefesshoesguide]

Genuine Leather Zero Drop Seasonal Leather Boots

The Essence of Zero Drop Boots

The main feature of barefoot boots is that they are zero-drop, meaning the base height and the nose height are equal. Zero drop boots have minimal or no cushioning, leaving the feet flat on the boot's surface. The most widely advocated benefit is that they encourage less dependence on boot hardware and more reliance on foot and leg muscles. This flat design mimics the natural barefoot position, promoting better posture, improved ankle mobility, and enhanced balance.

[mrpuppett]

i wish shoe companies understood that small feet doesn't equal fucking small calves like i just want to wear some FUCKING KNEE HIGH BOOTS but NOOOOOOOO my beefy ass calves are just TOO MUCH FOR THEM

[beauzos]

went into the Boot Barn dressed like a faggot today. never felt so self-conscious about my appearance until that very moment KRHF

[beansprean]

"What Are We" (part 1 of ?) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Me?? Starting a new exploratory comic ahead of the final season when I already have two others I'm actively working on and one I've had to temporarily shelve because they were getting mixed up in my head??? Egads.

Anyway this is just a short silly fanfic-in-comic-form that I'm playing with dfkjhk. 3 more pages already on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Wide blue-toned panel with a close up of a city sidewalk at night, showing Nandor and Guillermo's legs from mid-calf down as they walk along it. Guillermo is in front, wearing tight chinos and pointed shoes, jauntily swinging his legs as he hums to himself. Nandor, in his usual boots and long cape, trails closely behind. He says, as if continuing an earlier conversation, 'Then what are we now, if not master and familiar?' 2. Shoulders up of Guillermo from the front, Nandor a few steps behind. The city behind them is awash with blue and streaked with streetlights. Guillermo, wearing a dark peacoat over a dress shirt, is clearly drunk, flushed and grinning as he watches his feet dance along the sidewalk, shoulders swaying. He responds happily, 'Well, you're my best friend!' Nandor frowns slightly, unsure. 3. Repeat. Guillermo rolls his head to aim a teasing grin over his shoulder, pointing at Nandor as he sings, 'And I'm yoursss~' Nandor pulls himself forward to hover right behind Guillermo's shoulder and attempts an imperious expression, flustered. He retorts, 'If only for lack of a better term!' Guillermo immediately shoots back, 'I am!' 4. Repeat. Guillermo continues walking unsteadily forward, closer to the viewer, his flushed and grinning face taking up the left side of the frame from nose to chest. He adds, giggling, 'At least for the next 50-ish years!' Behind him, Nandor has stopped, blinking in surprise as he takes this in, his hands twiddling together at his chest. 5. The panel grows smaller, darker, crowding in on Nandor, the only one left in it, as he furrows his brow and stares uncertainly at the ground, shoulders slumped. Offscreen, Guillermo drunkenly shouts, 'Mas-' he interrupts himself with a burp - 'Nandor, the ferry is goooone!' A few more empty blue panels follow, getting thinner and smaller as they go and the night ends. 6. Some time later: Knees up of Nandor sitting on one side of the loveseat in the fancy room, doing a talking head. He is now wearing a studded leather tunic and fur vest and is staring with a deep sadness at the camera, hands folded in his lap. He says, '...I had of course considered that, by remaining human, my new best friend Guillermo would not be around as long as the rest of us. But 50 years?? That is no time at all! I took 22 just mastering the game of pinball! Time is so fleeting...before I know it, he will be gone.' 7. Repeat. Nandor takes a moment of silence and looks down sadly at the empty cushion beside him on the loveseat, hands twisting together in his lap. 8. Repeat, zoom in to chest up, background fading to red as white intensity lines halo around Nandor's head. He sits straight up and faces the viewer, chin up, a new confidence in his furrowed brow and straight shoulders. He announces, 'I have to turn him.' /end ID

[genderlessghoul]

I've been wanting to do this post for a while now so here is EVERYTHING I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE GHOULS' IMPERA COSTUMES.

Buckle up because I have a LOT to say about those, this is gonna be a very long one.

The costumes were designed by B Åkerlund, a Swedish costume designer who's worked with Ghost since at least Meliora (that's as far back as I was willing to scroll on her Instagram page lol). B Åkerlund has also worked for many other musical artists such as Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Madonna, the Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osborne, Blink 182 and Hollywood Undead (information from her own website)

The masks were made by Bob Basset, a visual artists who works a lot with leather. I find his work fascinating, you can look him up on Instagram (nsfw warning, there's a few naked ladies).

Fun fact! The horns are real cow horns. That's the reason some of them have gold tips, to hide the imperfections that come with working with actual horns.

He does have a shop where he sells his items, there's a mask there very similar to the Impera ones. You can also buy Papa's batwings if you happen to have 2500$ lying around!

The jackets are made on the same model as one of Papa's. The back is decorated with a spine-like design made from leather and cording. It's adorned with a few of our classic Impera buttons. Some of the hems were left raw and some deliberate weathering was done to make it look old and worn.

Fun fact! The shoulder pieces are not sewn into the garment, I would assume for easier cleaning. I don't know if they're held by strong magnets or snap buttons.

The vest (my beloved 😩) is made from flocked velvet in a paisley pattern, the front hems embellished with satin piping. It closes in the front with custom metal clasps that are riveted into the garment. The D parts are attached with what seems to me like wide elastic, which would lessen the pression on the clasps when moving around a lot. The back is made from two different types of fabric, I'd have to touch it to be able to tell you what they are. I assume the panels closer to the sides have some mild stretch to them. The top of the shoulders are decorated with Impera grucifix patches.

The shirts were not custom made for the ghouls, altho they were altered. The original shirt in the vintage painter linen shirt from Punk Rave and it is still being sold. Some of the cuffs were altered, removing the ruffles for some of the ghouls, but not all. They were removed for Dew, Mountain and Phantom, Aether's didn't have them either. As far as I can tell, all the ghoulettes still have them.

An unfinished piece of linen serves as an ascot, that piece is decorated with a metal devil skull. The colour of the skull doesn't appear to be consistent between each ghoul, Dew's looks gold almost bronze while Phantom's is a silver-like colour.

Another modification is the buttons, a small portion of them were removed in favor of our Impera buttons. Some of the ghouls have more buttons replaced than others, which is still a mystery to me.

The pants are called Jodhpurs, they were invented in the 1800s as horse riding pants. The wide part at the hips and thighs allowing for better movement. The ones the ghouls wear don't reach all the way to their ankles, they stop a bit past the calf muscle, hidden by the boots. (Yes, the ghouls are effectively wearing capri pants)

The boots are motorcycle riding boots, decorated by a grucifix. Like the shirt, they can still be bought online through the All American Boots website, altho the price tag is... Headache inducing to say the least.

The cape is a piece of costume that was only briefly worn on stage by the ghouls, Aurora being the only one who still wears one. I would assume it gets in the way of playing very easily. The cape itself is made of two fabrics, a light blue satin and a dark grey suede. The two pieces are not sewn together at the bottom, they move freely from each other. The cape is attached on the left shoulder with a harness piece that has one strap across the chest, decorated with a metal buckle, and one under the armpit.

Aight that's it for me, have a nice day byyyyye!!

[misswrittenword]

Imagine you go for a hike alone.

Male!Tentacle Monster x fem!human ~ Tentacles, triple pen, dubcon to consent, lots of cum, breeding, egg preg, tentacle bondage?

It's a cool summer evening and you decide to take a drive to a remote hiking trail in a valley to go get some exercise. You don your biker shorts so you're free of chub rub as well as a sports bra and a tank top before setting on your way, enjoying the breeze as it blows your hair around while you drive.

The small dirt lot where you park is completely empty, but you're pleased with that, it just meant you'd have the trail all to yourself and you wouldn't need to worry about anyone else.

And you were right, sorta.

Dusk begins to settle when you hear a small rustle in the woods to the side of the path. It's dense trees and hard to see, so you just chalk it up to small critters and keep going. Eventually you come to a small clearing on the trail and you elect to stop for a drink of water. You're lost in thought when something brushes against your bare calf. Before you can even finish looking down, something has grabbed you around the waist and begins to pull you back to the tree line.

You scream and fight, reaching at whatever is holding you, only to discover that instead of some crazy person, there's light purple tentacles around you. They have darker splotches, and seem to emit a dim glow. More appear from the darkness as you look around, and they all start to grab at your limbs, carrying you off into the darkness.

Shaking in fear, you're quickly completely restrained as you are drown closer to a large central mass that the tentacles are coming from. it's huge, dwarfing your structure easily and nearly as wide to boot.

"No.. no!" you yelp, as the warm 'arms' of this creature rip your clothes off and hold you suspended in the air. They start to wander over your body, some innocently exploring your face, and others...

Others are teasing at your nipples, beginning to tub at them and squeeze. another ventures across the curve of your ass, before gently poking at your asshole. You clench down in fear and it withdraws momentarily before sneaking higher and skirting over your pussy. Your legs shake as you try to close them, but the tentacles hold firm.

One of them goes for your mouth, but this one seems different than the others. Its tip is rounded and dark, as as it closes in you notice it seems to be oozing some sort of dark liquid. You try to fight it off, twisting your head side to side, but more tentacles hold you firm and it's not long before it forces its way into your mouth.

The liquid is sour at first, but as it begins to leak down your throat, you find it tastes... Sweeter and sweeter, until you shamefully start to suck at the tentacle cock it throat fucks you with. Soon you realize that the pointy ended tentacles have used your distraction to hone in on your vulnerable cunt, and they rub over your clit eagerly.

A larger one starts to enter your pussy hole, teasing and edging in, before another joins and together they start to thrust into you deeply. Filling you, but not enough to please the growing warmth in your belly. You squirm and move your hips, unable to deny how horny the actions of this monster make you.

You clench around them with a small orgasm that leaves you wanting more, but then a larger, much larger tentacle cock similar to the one slowly fucking your mouth appears between your thighs. Pre cum dribbles from its tip, and the two in your hole withdraw as it takes their place.

Muffled pleas for help are garbled on the cock in your mouth, and you moan pitifully as the huge tentacle cock begins to stretch your tiny cunt open. Tears leak from your eyes as the beast holds you still. Any attempts to free yourself are plainly futile.

The head pops in, making way for several inches of purple tentacle to follow, and your eyes are wide with horror as you watch them disappear inside you quickly. Your pussy clenches down as the sensation of being fucked open overwhelms you. You realize that the soaked tentacles which had prepared your cunt have now retreated to your only unoccupied hole.

They tease and push against you, teasing the waters as your mind is flooded by whatever it is in the cum of this monster that's making you feel so tingly and hot. When they realize you offer no true fight, they waste no time and the first one, still soaked by your cunt, spears into your tight little ass.

It burns briefly before the small tentacles on your nipples start to play with you even more intently, and your mind is sated by pleasure again. The other tentacle joins its friend in filling your ass, and you're so stuffed you can't believe your mind.

Moaning loudly, you roll your hips to meet its thrusts, soaking in the feeling of its warm precum squirting inside you before it suddenly pulls free, and you almost sob in dismay.

To your arousal stained horror, the tentacles in your ass also leave your body and the tentacle cock descends to your shuddering ass. Your legs are pulled up towards your ears, and spread as far apart as they can go as it nudges against your puckered hole. Your head shakes with renewed vigor, but nothing can stop the cock as it pushes into you.

It spreads you open in a way you didn't know possible, and your eyes are rolled so far into the back of your head you don't see the new cock coming for your pussy until it's already slipping it's fat head into your hole. You look and almost faint at the sight, it's got to be twice the size of the previous one.

The third tentacle cock fucks into you slowly, your hole straining against it but also sucking it back in whenever it pulls away. You're lost to the sensation of your little holes being stretched beyond what should be humanly possible when all three begin to speed up. Dimly you realize that the two cocks have made a notable bump in your squishy stomach. The sight makes you cum so hard you see stars.

It fucks you for what feels like hours, and you orgasm more than you can count. Eventually the monster lets out some sort of rumble that takes you from your fucked out state and brings you a small amount of awareness.

What you realize makes you squirm again, twisting against your living bonds. You want to beg, whether to be freed or for more you're not sure. Numerous lumps in the tentacle cocks in your pussy and ass seem to rush toward you, and you moan pitifully against the one in your mouth.

Eggs.

Thrusting faster as it cums, the three tentacles bury themselves as far inside you as possible. Hips bucking as you cum too, the one in your pussy seems to change in that instant, narrowing and sinking itself inside your cervix.

You scream around the one in your throat, blacking out momentarily but coming back to the feeling of the first egg as it strains against your pussy hole. The ones going to your ass get stuck too, but it's the one pushing against your cunt that pops in first. You shake and tremble as they force their way inside your little body, doing unknown things to your cervix and filling your womb.

Their transition to your body is made easier by the tentacle monsters cum as it floods into you as well. Warming you, relaxing you. The eggs softly plop together, rolling around in your womb and ass, making room for the ones that follow. This seems to go on forever, and you watch your belly stretch and expand, growing bigger and rounder as the eggs fill you beyond measure.

Even after the eggs run out, and your slightly bumpy belly blocks the view of the cocks in your body, they still thrust idly into you, random spurts of cum making your eyes roll back and your body tighten with another weak orgasm.

It continues forever, into darkness, where the only light is the stars above you and the glowing purple being that owns your body and soul.

You apparently doze, waking near morning. The cock in your throat, while eggless, still pumps cum directly into your stomach at seemingly random intervals.

Undoubtedly a nutrient source for the mother.

You.

[willowser]

katsuki blames the alcohol for making him stupid.

really stupid.

not that he's had a lot, but his tolerance is low for a guy of his size, and he can feel the edges of his inhibitions dulling with every drink of whatever denki has shoved in his hand. it doesn't taste like absolute shit, which is rare enough to have him indulging, just a bit, for the agency halloween party.

another sip has his head feeling a little swimmy, and before he knows it, his eyes are trailing across the room until they find you. again.

whatever the hell you're supposed to be tonight—a witch, or something else in a pointy hat—is really fucking with him, and has since you walked in. the costume isn't revealing in a sense that it's inappropriate for a work event, but it's...hugging you in all the right places. in every single one of them.

without tights, it would be on the too-short side, but—and no, katsuki can't fucking explain this—something about them is making everything worse. and your calf-high boots ain't helping, either.

it's just—your fucking—hips.

katsuki couldn't tell you what song is playing, but you're swaying back and forth to the tune and one of his canines digs into the plastic of his cup, so deeply that it makes a terrible creaking sound and dents beneath the pressure—and that's when a sharp elbow is delivered to the center of his chest.

mina is at his side when he looks, and her wide, freaky eyes scan his face before narrowing in her little shit-eating way.

"you're a pig."

katsuki chokes, and the little freak takes that as an admission of some kind.

"oh my god," she gasps, mouth falling in all her disgust and awe. "you can't even deny it!" and then she laughs, high and chirpy, and there's no way you can't hear her. "oh, you're down bad."

"cram it," he snaps, sinking his scowl into his cup. "i dunno what the hell you're talkin' about."

"you know i really thought better of you," mina sniffs effectively, turning her face up and away. "not the type to be blantly checking out somebody's ass."

katsuki bristles, and his aggrivation growns until the plastic in his hands starts to melt. "i wasn't—"

"i'm kidding!" mina snorts before flicking him in the nose, narrowly dodging the hand he swipes out at her. "quit being a baby and go shoot your shot already."

"piss. off."

but the hero is unaffected by him, simply scrunching up her face in response before turning on her heel to disappear further into the party.

she's wrong, katsuki thinks, because he's not a pig like sero or fucking dunce face or even kirishima, from time to time, who gets red in the face over a low cut shirt and a pair of tits.

fucking ridiculous, katsuki thinks, because he's way better than that.

it's just—the alcohol. that's making his lids heavy and his thoughts dark and his face hot. has him peeking at you over the lip of his cup, has him picturing you in his head when he's forced to look away.

and, well, maybe, the short cut of your dress has a little something to do with it, too—but he's keeping that shit to himself.

taking it to the grave, even.

[r0ttoncandydreamz]

Things that FUCKING SUCK about being fat:

I can't wrap a regular sized towel completely around myself.

The chafing between my thighs hurts sooo bad.

I can't keep up with my boyfriend when we go out for walks and especially when we go hiking. It's so embarrassing, he literally has to keep stopping and waiting for me to finally catch up.

It's hard finding clothes at the store that actually fit. And I can guarantee, it won't be anything nice either, sweatpants and maybe hoodies..

18" necklaces are chokers on me.

I have to get wide shoes.

Not fitting in socks made out of certain materials, some of them cut into my ankles...

Struggling to fit in high-top sneakers. Forget about calf height boots.

Feeling disgusting for eating in front of people. I know people see me and think "That's why you're fat." "I'm so glad I don't look like that."

Small bathroom stalls can be a nightmare.

I love swimming, but not in front of people.

Feeling insecure and disgusting all the time.

Etc.

I'm soooo tired of being this size, it's time for a change.

[myhappylittlesideblog]

Breathe It In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Daryl takes you out on his bike for the first time.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

“Y’ever rode one before?” Daryl asked. 

You shook your head, attention running over the hot, glinting chrome and black metal. Every inch of the motorcycle was covered in dust but you knew it was an impressive piece of machinery, especially in Daryl’s eyes. And it was big. Longer and taller than you ever really noticed, now that you were the one about to climb on top of it. 

“No,” you said to Daryl. “Never even seen one up close before you got this.” 

“Ya don’ haf’ta come with me. Once we git another car, we can-“

“No, it’s fine. I’ve done scarier, right?” you said, thinking just of the past week and all you’d faced. 

He gave a curt nod. Then he swung his leg over the motorcycle, the toe of his big boot finding the kickstarter immediately. His jeans hugged his body as he hiked his knee up unnaturally high before putting all his weight on the lever, slamming his leg down and starting the bike on the first try. He twisted one of the handles as the engine revved to life as he settled in the seat. 

He looked at you, gaze cutting over his bare arm, thick with muscle. “I’ll hold it steady. Foot rests are there,” he said, pointing low on the bike to the small pegs you would use. “That’s the engine-“

“That’s the engine? The whole thing is just… right there?” 

“Where else would it be?”

You shot him a glare. “I don’t know. Enclosed somewhere maybe.”

He huffed a laugh. It made his hair fall in his face, but you could see his blue eyes studying you as he continued his explanation. 

“The exhaust pipes are down there too- careful a’ those. They get hot.” 

“Okay, so butt goes there,” you said pointing, “feet go there and don’t touch anything else.”

“‘Cept me.”

You straightened, shooting your attention back to him. “Hm?”

“Gotta hold onta somethin’. Come on, let’s go.”

You wondered if you had flushed as red as he did at his words. He was looking at his fingers wrapped around the handlebars, knuckles turning white, but you saw the pink wave crawling up his neck from his vest and landing around his ears. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’,” you said, sidling up to the bike. You tried to sound teasing, but you just sounded nervous. And it wasn’t just the heavy machinery making adrenaline rush through you.

He held his hand out flat for you to grab and support yourself as you flung your leg over the side of the bike. The moment your bottom landed on the back of the seat, you felt Daryl’s wide hand around your calf, moving one of your feet into place on the pegs. It was only then you realized there were only two foot pedestals for four feet. You’d have to share. 

Once he’d moved you into place, he tapped your knee, signaling you to stay put. A cold rush of air kissed the spot his hand had just kept warm. 

Your legs pressed against the back of his body as you sat behind him, your feet on the outside of the pegs, while his thick boots stuck to the inside. Nearest to the hot exhaust pipes, you noticed. He was keeping you away from them. 

“Good?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’m good.”

The motorcycle growled loudly at the will of his hand. Just a twist of his wrist and the bike was primed to speed off. 

He turned his head, not quite looking at you, though even then you could see his smirk. “Better hold on,” he said. 

You took the back of his jacket in your hands, balling up the leather around his hips into your fingers. “Kay,” you said, bracing yourself a bit. 

His foot rocked and his fingers squeezed, releasing the clutch and picking the gear. He twisted the handlebars, revving the engine and making the bike shake under you. To you, it was just a lot of noise and practically unnoticeable movement. To someone with motorcycling experience, it was a warning of oncoming power and swiftness. But you had no idea.

Without warning, the bike jolted forward and sped off so quickly it almost left you alone in the dirt, your grip slipping from Daryl’s jacket. 

Before you could fall off though, you hugged close to Daryl, palms open and sprawled over his chest and belly in panic. After the initial shock, however, the bike was a smooth ride as it kicked up dry Georgia dust behind its tires. That’s when you realized Daryl’s shaking and trembling wasn’t from the rattling of the bike, but from his chuckles. 

You heard his laugh even over the buzzing bike and rushing wind. It was a rare sound. Low, but free, like the rumble of an engine on a long, twisting summer road. In half mock, half true indignation, you lowered your hands to rest around his waist, meeting in the middle around his belt. Leaning up to his ear, you called to him. 

“You’re a real dick sometimes, Dixon!”

“Told’ya ta hold on,” he answered, giving your clasped hands a pat. 

“No kidding.”

He shook again. Though this time you couldn’t hear the soft chuckles that emanated from him, you knew they were there. You felt it. Just like you felt the affection radiating from him as he twisted his fingers in yours until they were interlinked. 

Before the outbreak, you never would have ridden a motorcycle. They were too dangerous. In fact, the thought of even looking at a contraption like this one, something Daryl had practically made with his own hands, without a safety helmet would never have crossed your mind. 

These days, things were different. Every day was a threat. But this, being with Daryl and sharing his pride and joy felt like the safest thing you could ever do. He was holding your hand and your arms circled him tight as you rode safely past anything questionable. 

You laid your head on the back of his shoulder and breathed it in- the freedom, the safety, the gas smell on his jacket and the smoke in his hair and you closed your eyes. And you felt his hand squeeze yours as if he was doing the exact same.

[autumnrory]

looking at a cute pair of boots is just like who the fuck has calves that tiny

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR FUCKING!

♰ art credit: eriimyon on twitter!

♰ featuring: wriothesley + neuvillette. (separate) [genshin]

♰ note: crazily enough, i’m not in heat for once, HOWEVER, i cannot, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, get over wriothelsey and neuvillette’s boots. ever since the release of fontaine, i’ve been SO DOWN BAD for those two men and the fact that neuvillette wears literal thigh highs + boots aND SO DOES WRIOTHELSEY likeee???? they’re so cunty??? like what the fuck??? i want them to ruin me fr.

sypnosis: you take your obsession with your boyfriend’s boots into your own hands. word count: 3.3k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. female/fem-bodied reader SHOE/BOOT HUMPING! name calling/degradation. spanking. praise. minor petplay themes/usage of the names: puppy, pup, mutt, bitch, etc. (wriothesley) poor reincarnated hydro sovereign being scaroused yet fascinated by human desires. minor exhibitionism (neuvillette).꒷꒦

when you first mentioned what you wanted to do with wriothesley's boots to him, he laughed in your face—not maliciously, but simply amused—because he could tell from your longing stares that there was something more to the way you were practically drooling at him. so, to find out that this is what you had in mind all this time, he was not opposed to it. in fact, he was utterly fascinated to partake in your little fantasy alongside you.

“you got it, baby.” his smooth voice would come from above you as you sank to your knees before him.

your sheepish gaze lifted to meet his, and you felt yourself clench around nothing from the look in his eyes. his eyes were full of wild, unbridled lust as he peered down at you with a half-lidded gaze and salacious smirk. he was relaxing back against his large office chair, the golden lining around the red velvet making him appear kingly and regal from your position, perched on your knees like his consort. his legs were spread wide, making room to accommodate you, allowing you to take in the way his muscular thighs bulged from beneath his tight slacks, nearly bursting their well-tailored seams. he was so effortlessly hot that it drove you insane.

“c’mon, y/n.” he spoke to you, maneuvering his leg until he was able to nudge your panty-clad folds with the steel toe of his boots, causing you to immediately whine at the sudden contact and grip his calf for support. his smirk only grew, cruelly grinding the toe against your sensitive clit. “you wanted this, and yet you’re making me do all the work? take those panties off and get to it already, babe.”

you nodded, rising onto your knees, albeit shakily, as you hooked your thumbs into the waistline of your panties and pulled them down your thighs until you could discard them beside you. afterwards, both of your hands wrapped around wriothlesy’s bulky calf, and used the leverage to lower yourself onto the smooth leather of his boot’s surface. as the cool leather settled against your heated clit, your hips lurched forward while a startled squeal escaped your lips from the unexpected contact.

wriothesley was quick to soothe you, placing his hand atop your head to smooth your hair back against your crown. he lifted your chin just enough to meet your gaze, silently observing whether you were alright or if you were having any second thoughts. you responded by simply lowering your hips onto the leather of his boots again, whimpering as your puffy folds squished against the leather.

keeping your hands wrapped around his legs for purchase, you slowly but surely rocked your hips against the smooth leather, instantly becoming overwhelmed by a wave of euphoria. despite the boot's steel toe, the surface was even and soft. not to mention the excess thick stitching from a rhombodious design embroidered on top, which caused you to bump your clit against the rough, dull edge with each raunchy rock. the friction was nearly mind-numbing.

a chorus of sultry sighs left your mouth before you pulled your bottom lip between your pearly whites to muffle the sound. you felt a wave of shame wash over you as you realized what a depraved act you were committing. wriothesley, however, wasn’t having any of it.

his partially-gloved thumb met your lip, pulling the soft flesh free from your teeth. in an instant, his large palm was cupping your chin as thick digits squished your cheeks with enough force to pucker your lips. your gaze rose to meet his own, which was now boring down into you, steely and cold.

“now, now, being shy, are we?” the faintest hint of a mocking, snide smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you from the bridge of his nose, as if you were inferior to him. something about the cruel, haughty look in his eyes as he glowered down at you caused your pussy to clench, your juices shamelessly squirting between your folds and his boot as your arousal became unbearable. you could barely utter a sentence in response, too desperate to chase your release as you continued to hump your messy pussy against his boot like a rutting puppy.

“you certainly weren’t shy when you were gawking at me like some kind of sex toy while squeezing those pretty thighs of yours—" he paused, quickly bending at the waist to pop two quick swats against your bubbly rear and thigh to accentuate his point, relishing in the sharp squeals that emitted from your lips afterwards. “—together like some bitch in heat, now were you?”

you warbled, an incoherent cacophony of pleas for him to be nice to you competing with your pleas for him to spank you again harder, amidst your pleasure moans, unable to say anything else. so, he answered for you.

using the grip on both your chin and cheeks, he nodded your head up and down like a ventriloquist manipulating his prettiest puppet.

“yeaah, i’m right aren’t i?” his words were dragged out like a mocking hum, and that amused smirk finally emerged in the form of a salacious, sly grin that spread across his lips, exposing his pointed canines.

you nodded for yourself this time, tears springing from the corners of your eyes as the pleasure you felt building within you began to grow to much for you to bear, your thighs quivering around his boot as your clit throbbed against the now ruined leather.

“so don’t you fucking dare hide these precious little sounds from me again, got it? you’re going to let everyone outside of this office know that the duke’s girlfriend is a needy little slut who gets off on rutting her pretty pussy against his boots like a naughty little puppy. understand?”

you nodded, thin lines of translucent drool beginning to pool over your blushing brims as your vision grew blurry, barely able to decipher the reality around you as the knot in your tummy grew tighter with every sloppy, needy hump of your hips.

“y-yes, wriothesley— mpfh! f-fuck, please, m’gonna cum, i can’t—!”

“—don't fuckin' back out now.” with a snarl, he interrupted you, releasing your cheeks to grasp your hair and force your gaze onto his. “come on, princess. make a mess all over my fuckin’ boot.”

and you did exactly that. with an uneasy, sloppy final stuttering of your hips, you finally came undone from your depraved acts. with your nails digging deep cresents into the leather straps that held his boots taut around his calves, the knot in your belly finally released it’s tension, allowing you to fall into the sweet bliss of your orgasm. your voice echoed through the steel chambers of his office as immeasurable warmth and pleasure washed over you, misting your senses. your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, your panting, heaving breaths creating puffs of condensation against the steel that encircled the front of his thighs, where your cheek was now nestled. you could feel your clit throbbing against the ruined leather of his boot, your juices squelching out of you and smearing against both his boot and your folds in an obscene manner. a manner that made a satisfied, smug smirk arise on wriothesley’s lips.

soon enough, you came down from your high with his large hand stroking along your tresses, coaxing you along the whole way. when your shrill mewls turned into breathless pants and occasional whimpers, his hand would find itself on your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek in an endearing fashion.

“there you go. y’did so good for me, princess.” his smooth, baritone voice calmed you, bringing you back to reality from the high heavens.

you mumbled a feeble "thank you" for him allowing you to indulge in your fantasies while nestling your cheek against his soothing touch.

he laughed at this, deep and throaty, as he slipped his foot from beneath your messy folds, chuckling at the high-pitched whine that ripped from your lips as he did so.

“you’re welcome, precious . . . but you do know how things work around here in the fortress, don’t you?”

his voice had dropped an octave with a suggestive undertone, prompting you to open your eyes and peer wearily up at him with a confused glint. he met your gaze with a lascivious narrow, slowly removing his hand from your cheek and dragging it languidly over his own thigh until it rested atop the prominent bulge that had recently formed in his slacks. your mouth watered at the sight of his painfully erect cock threatening to burst through his zipper at any moment now. it seemed as though he enjoyed your little show just as much as you did.

“what is once graciously given, another must receive in return.”

“you want to what?” neuvillette would inquire, pausing mid sip from his silver chalice containing the finest water in fontaine as he peered you incredulously—an emotion rarely present on his otherwise stoic and aloof visage.

being the iudex of fontaine, he has seen all counts of life and even the darkest parts of humanity present in the courtroom. he even went out of his way to better understand you, your likes, your dislikes, your interests, your kinks, and your deepest desires. when dealing with humans, he knew to never be surprised by whatever they could have in store for him, but nothing could’ve prepared him for your anything-but-innocent inquiry.

what made matters worse is that you couldn't even explain where this desire stemmed from or why you wanted to perform such a lewd act—not to him—but rather to his boots of all things. luckily for you, your lover was a curious being, no matter how much he seemed otherwise.

wordlessly, he placed his chalice atop his large oak desk before scooting his chair back to make enough room to accommodate you. silently, he raised a hand, gesturing to the space between him and his desk, inviting you to sit. your gaze rose, meeting his own, only to see that there was an essence of carnality present in his bright periwinkle eyes.

“come.” he ordered, his voice bellowing with the faintest of echos in the spacious chamber of his office. his hand turned, his gloved index finger pointing to the carpeted floor beneath his feet. “show me.”

like a sacrificial lamb being offered to the shrine, you hesitantly pranced around the large oak desk until you came to stand before your sovereign lover, just as he had asked. his legs spread wide, both of his knees resting mere inches away from both of your thighs. your gaze fell to the ground, admiring his expensive shoes with regal gold rivets branded on the tips. thinking about the cool metal and how the smooth ridges would feel on your clit, your thighs squished together as you felt your arousal brewing between them—an action that immediately drew neuvillette's attention.

“you know i’m a busy man, and yet here you are, hesitating when i’m giving you exactly what you desire.” the deep rumble of his voice drew you from your reverie, drawing your attention back to him, only to see that he was now leering at you from where his head rested on his balled fist. his free hand rose, gently ecircling his large palm around your hip, his thumb rolling slow, titillating circles against the bone. you could feel the slightest of unsteady trembles in his grip, almost as though he were refraining from taking you right then and now atop his desk.

“do you intend to continue to waste both of our time, or will you finally kneel and act on your licorous endeavors?”

a meager apology tumbled from your lips, and you finally gathered the courage to lower yourself to your knees before him, both of your thighs straddling his right boot. one of your hands wrapped around his spat covered calf, steadying yourself as you hovered above his shoe, already feeling the coolness of the riveted, feathered-diamond design beneath your heated core. pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you grabbed at the seat of your panties and pulled them to the side, watching as a thin strand of your translucent arousal already leaked onto his shoe.

you let gravity take control of you, allowing it to push you down until you sank against the cool leather and smooth gold of his shoes. as the underside of your sensitive pearl rested on the smooth ridge of the steel, contrasting blissfully with the strapping leather, a shuddering sigh escaped your brims. you had only imagined what his shoe would feel like beneath your folds, but this was beyond any expectations you could’ve had. without wasting any more time, you slowly ground your hips to and fro along the surface of his shoe, each sensuous drag of your puffy folds against chilled steel and leather drawing a mewl of bliss from your brims.

above you, you heard your draconic lover chuckling in a cacophony of emotions: amusement, fascination, and, most of all, incredulity.

“humans.” he sighed mirthfully, a fond smile on his face, as he watched you rut against his shoe like a needy puppy in need of proper discipline. “your kind never ceases to amaze me with their intricacies—you included, starlight.”

you could only manage a whimper in response, your words becoming garbled and incoherent as you attempted to utter a formulated sentence amidst your writhing but failed horribly.

“what’s that, love?” he was having fun with this now—something about witnessing your sinful plight warming his water-tight heart. “use your words, darling. don’t tell me you’ve gone stupid on me already."

you glowered at him from under your lashes, your lips forming an indignant pout as your cheeks burned from his taunting and your embarrassment. your mouth opened—not to release more of those sweet moans that were music to his ears—but instead to shoot back a brazen retort, when all of a sudden, you were cut off by raucous knocking on his office door that captured both of your attention.

“monsieur.” a flat, feminine voice spoke from the other side—one that you both recognized.

clorinde.

immediately, you froze. your nails dug into the fabric of neuvillette’s spats as your hips stilled, your body trembling from the way your clit throbbed against chilled steel, aching for you to continue and bring you your sweet, sweet release.

your gaze shifted to his, and you noticed that all amusement had vanished from his eyes, leaving only a fleeting trace of unease behind them. placing your weight on your knees, you made a move to push yourself up so that the both of you didn’t get caught in your nefarious actions, but you were stopped.

a hand, gentle yet firm, placed itself atop your head, preventing you from rising but mere centimeters off of his shoe. confusion washed over your features, as you were shocked that he had stopped you knowing that someone else had just arrived, but everything became clear when you noticed the lecherous glint in his now narrowed eyes.

he needn’t utter a word to you to convey his intentions. instead, he arched his foot, causing the tip of his arousal-slickened boot to once again meet your sopping folds, eliciting—what would have been—a startled squeal from you if you had not muffled the sound by shoving your face into his knee. your pleasure-stricken, pleading eyes met his own, begging for mercy at the prospect of being caught in the act by not only your friend but also his closest subordinate, but his order was clear.

he wanted you to continue, regardless of your newfound audience.

and who were you to disobey the iudex’s orders?

it was only when you succumbed to his will by sinking yourself back onto his shoe and resuming your sloppy pace that he said anything else.

“enter.”

the sound of heavy oak swinging open, followed by the dull tutting of sharp heels against carpeted tiles, effectively sealed your fate. you tried your damnedest not to draw suspicion from the extremely perceptive woman by keeping your sinful mewls quiet, but as your orgasm drew nearer, the effort became not only more difficult but also taxing. daring a glance neuvillette's way, you could only smolder in silent, seething envy at how composed he remained, as if his lover were not riding his shoe within an inch of her life beneath him.

"i have completed the report on the recent fatuus trial that you requested. the one where he failed to best me in a duel before the trial carried on as normal."

her voice was so close, so unassuming. the sound of a sudden weight striking the oaken surface indicated that she was only a short distance away from the desk, probably dropping a heavy folder on it.

your cunt could not help but gush at the allure of it all—you grinding your pretty pussy against the now-tainted leather of your lover's shoe, right under the duellist's nose. the pressure behind your abdomen had begun to build, threatening to burst at any moment. you prayed to whatever higher being was listening that clorinde would not hear the downright debaucherous sound of your pussy squelching against his steel tip.

“hm, i see.” you could hear the inquisitiveness in neuvillette’s tone as he spoke, flipping through the pages of clorinde’s report to skim over the report that would be gone over later in greater detail. “thank you, this is very much appreciated.”

whatever clorinde uttered in response, you couldn’t hear or see. the tiniest of breathless squeaks emitted from your lips as your hips drew forward with one more quivering drag, finally delivering you over that cliff to your sweet, sweet, blissful salvation. you would have to apologize later for the deep teeth marks you left on neuvillette's spats, which were accompanied by a sharp and sudden clearing of his throat to warn you of those misbehaving pearly whites. you were powerless to stop it, though. that was the only thing keeping you from being exposed in this manner and losing the last shred of your dignity.

languidly and sloppily, you rode out those last few serene waves of your orgasm before finally slipping back to reality—one that was about to drop a rude awakening onto you.

“oh, and monsieur?” clorinde's voice echoed throughout the chamber as if she had already moved to the other side. when had she arrived over there?

“hm?” neuvillette responded, his hand casually returning to your head and stroking over your locks to coax you through those blissful waves in an endearing fashion.

“the next time you and y/n are intimate, could you please not accept guests during your private sessions?”

you could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

defeated, you deflated against your lover’s thigh with an audible groan, to which neuvillete would in turn reply with a chuckle of his own, offering a nod of confirmation the duellist’s way.

“so we’ve been told. thank you once again, clorinde.”

her departure was signaled by the heavy doors swinging shut, leaving you and your draconic lover all alone once more. with your cheek pressed against his inner thigh, you peered up at him, mortification evident in your eyes. except for a reassuring pat on your opposite cheek, neuvillette, however, did little to ease your displeasure.

“making a mess of yourself and my shoes, and getting not only yourself but the both of us caught, y/n? by our champion duellist no less?” he tutted at you, one hand coming to his wrist to peel off his gold-riveted gloves, revealing scaled and oceanic blue-tainted hands.

when you realized what his words and actions meant, your heart dropped into the deepest recesses of your stomach, festering with the butterflies that had begun to flutter.

“n-no, i didn’t mean—”

a mere glare was all it took to effectively silence you, your lips pressing shut against one another as you nearly flinched from the severity. you would be lying if you said that your clit didn’t throb with anticipation for whatever he held in store for you.

“stand. i do believe you’re in need of a proper punishment, darling.”

would you guys like a part two with different characters? mayhaps a cute lil' series? name a few characters down below or inbox me! ♡

ⓒ vampiie 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

[soldiersareyourprotectors]

The track was eerily quiet in the early morning hours before the crowd would fill the stands and the engines would roar. Matt, a seasoned racer known for his calm demeanor and unparalleled focus, was alone in the dimly lit garage. Dressed in his iconic red and black racing gear, he was meditating, eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. Today was the last race of the season, and he needed to be in the right mindset to secure the championship.

Matt's ritual was suddenly interrupted by a sound behind him. He opened his eyes to see a young man, probably in his early twenties, standing nervously by the door.

The fan's eyes were wide with excitement and a hint of something else, something desperate.

"Hey, Matt, right?" the fan began, his voice shaky. "I know this is a long shot, but I had to ask... Can I have your racing gear after the race? It's the last race of the season, and it would mean the world to me."

Matt sighed, trying to hide his irritation. This wasn't the first time a fan had made such a request, but he had never been approached in such a secluded and private moment. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that," Matt replied calmly. "This gear is special to me, and I need it for my races."

The fan's expression changed, his face twisting with anger and disappointment.

"You don't understand!" he shouted, stepping closer. "I've followed you for years!

This is all I ask for!"

Matt stood up, trying to diffuse the situation. "Look, I appreciate your support, but I can't just give away my gear. Please, you need to leave now."

The fan's eyes darted around, landing on Matt's helmet resting on a nearby table.

In a sudden, irrational move, the fan lunged for the helmet and swung it at Matt.

The helmet connected with a sickening thud, and Matt crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The fan stared in horror at what he had done. His breath came in ragged gasps as he dropped the helmet. Panic set in, but then something else, a strange arousal and thrill at the sight of Matt's motionless body in the tight racing gear. Almost on autopilot, the fan began to feel Matt's body through the suit, the leather smooth under his fingertips.

As the fan stood over Matt's unconscious body, his hands trembled. He knelt down, his breath shallow and rapid, and began by undoing the boots. The red and black leather racing boots, scuffed from the last race, slipped off Matt's feet with a bit of effort. The fan's hands roamed over Matt's legs, feeling the firmness of the calf muscles that had powered through so many laps.

Next, he reached for the zipper at the front of Matt's racing suit. The fan's fingers fumbled for a moment before finding the metal tab and slowly pulling it down. The suit peeled away from Matt's broad shoulders, revealing the tight, moisture-wicking underwear beneath. The fan's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear, arousal, and disbelief at what he was doing.

As the suit continued to come off, the fan marveled at the fit and the material, the way it clung to Matt's muscular frame. He pulled the suit down over Matt's arms, carefully sliding it off each limb, feeling the tension in the fabric and the warmth of Matt's skin beneath. The sensation sent a shiver through the fan's spine, his own skin prickling with anticipation.

With the suit now bunched around Matt's waist, the fan worked it over Matt's hips and thighs, exposing more of the functional underwear. He pulled the suit completely off, leaving Matt lying there in just his undergarments. The fan hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight, before stripping off his own clothes.

He started with Matt's underwear, lifting Matt's legs one by one to slide the snug fabric down. The intimacy of the act was overwhelming, but the fan pressed on, driven by a strange compulsion. He then pulled on the tight underwear himself, the fabric cool against his skin, hugging him in a way that felt both foreign and exhilarating.

Next, he picked up Matt's racing suit. It was heavier than he expected, the weight of the leather and padding a testament to its purpose. He slipped one leg into the suit, then the other, the interior smooth against the functional underwear. Pulling it up over his hips, he relished the snug fit, the way the suit seemed to mold to his body. He slid his arms into the sleeves, feeling the constriction and protection they provided.

The fan zipped up the suit, the sensation of the zipper closing sending a thrill through him. He felt powerful, invincible even, as if he had assumed Matt's very essence. He picked up the boots, sliding his feet into them and zipping them up tightly. Each boot was a final seal on his transformation.

The fan, now dressed in Matt's racing gear, looked down at the real Matt's unconscious body sprawled on the floor. He knew he had to hide him before anyone else arrived. Spotting a large equipment box in the corner of the garage, he quickly dragged Matt's limp form over and carefully placed him inside. He closed the lid and secured it, hoping no one would come looking for Matt until after the race.

With his heart still pounding, the fan mounted Matt's bike and rode out onto the track. The sensation of the wind rushing past him, the roar of the crowd, and the power of the machine beneath him all combined into an intoxicating experience. For those few hours, he was Matt, living the dream he had always fantasized about.

The race concluded, and the fan found himself back in the garage surrounded by team members and reporters. They congratulated him, praised his performance, and he responded as best as he could, trying to mimic Matt's calm and collected demeanor. He was careful not to let anyone get too close, fearing they might notice something was off.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the garage began to empty. The team moved on to celebrate, leaving him alone with the bike and the echoes of the day's events. The fan walked over to the large mirror in the corner, taking a moment to catch his breath. He reached up and removed Matt's helmet, eager to feel the cool air on his sweat-drenched face.

As he lifted the helmet off, he caught sight of his reflection and gasped in shock. Staring back at him was not his own face, but Matt's. Every detail was perfect—the sharp jawline, the intense eyes, the determined expression. He touched his face in disbelief, feeling the smooth skin that was now his own.

"How is this possible?" he whispered to himself, his voice trembling.

Driven by a mix of fear and curiosity, he hurried over to the box where he had hidden the real Matt. With trembling hands, he unlocked it and flung open the lid. Inside, he saw his own body, still unconscious, dressed in the clothes he had been wearing just hours before.

He staggered back, his mind racing. They had somehow transformed into each other. The implications were staggering, and he felt a surge of panic mixed with excitement. What had caused this? Was it the helmet, the suit, or something else entirely?

The fan—now Matt—looked down at the unconscious body of his former self. He realized he needed to act fast before the real Matt woke up. He reached into the box, feeling for a pulse, relieved to find it steady and strong.

He dragged his old body out of the box and laid it on the floor. The new Matt took a moment to examine his hands, his arms, the way the racing suit fit him perfectly. Every movement felt natural, as if he had always been in this body. The fan inside him marveled at the strength and grace that came so easily now.

As the real Matt began to stir, the new Matt felt a pang of guilt. He knew he couldn't leave things like this, but he also couldn't bear to give up the incredible opportunity he had stumbled into. He crouched down and shook his old body gently, trying to wake him without causing alarm.

"Hey, wake up," he said softly, his new voice sounding strange to his own ears.

The real Matt's eyes fluttered open, and he looked around in confusion. When he saw himself looking down at him, his eyes widened in shock and fear. "What... what's happening?" he stammered, trying to sit up.

The new Matt took a deep breath. "I don't know how this happened, but we've switched places."

The real Matt, now in the fan's body, looked down at his unfamiliar hands, then back up at his own face. "This can't be real," he said, shaking his head. "This has to be some kind of nightmare."

The fan, now fully embracing his new identity as Matt, gazed at his former self with a mix of pity and satisfaction. He could feel the power and prestige of Matt's life coursing through him, and the sensation of the racing gear hugging his new, athletic form was nothing short of exhilarating. The tight suit, the snug boots, and the sleek helmet felt like a second skin, making him feel invincible. He had no intention of giving up this newfound reality.

The real Matt, disoriented and desperate, looked up at the fan with a pleading expression. "We need to change back! This isn't right. You can't just steal my life!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the garage walls.

The fan's eyes narrowed. "I'm not giving this up. I finally have what I've always dreamed of. Fame, respect, and the thrill of the race. You had your chance, and now it's mine."

Rage and frustration boiled over in the real Matt. "You can't do this! This is my life!" He lunged at the fan, shoving him hard enough to send him sprawling to the ground. "I want my life back!" he screamed, tears of anger and helplessness streaming down his face.

The commotion drew the attention of the nearby security team. They burst into the garage to find the scene unfolding: the real Matt, in the fan's body, on top of the fan who now looked exactly like Matt, trying to yank off the racing boots.

"Get off me!" the fan as Matt cried out, struggling to protect his stolen identity.

The security team rushed forward, pulling the real Matt off and restraining him. "Calm down! What’s going on here?" one of the guards demanded, cuffing the real Matt's hands behind his back.

The fan as Matt sat up, quickly composing himself. "This maniac came out of nowhere, screaming that he's the real Matt," he explained, his voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through him. "He attacked me, trying to steal my gear. I don’t know what he's talking about, but he’s clearly lost it."

The security guards looked at the real Matt, their expressions hardening with suspicion. "We're going to take you to see a psychiatrist," one of them said. "You need help."

"No, you don't understand!" the real Matt pleaded, struggling against the cuffs. "He's lying! I'm Matt! He took my body and my life! Please, you have to believe me!"

But the security team was unmoved. They hoisted him to his feet and began to lead him away. The real Matt looked back over his shoulder, his eyes full of desperation and betrayal. "You can't do this! You can't just take my life!" he shouted, his voice growing hoarse.

The fan as Matt watched them go, a sense of triumph and relief washing over him. He had won. He was now Matt, with all the glory and excitement that came with it. As the garage door closed, shutting out the real Matt's cries, he took a deep breath, savoring the moment. He ran his hands over the sleek material of the racing suit, feeling the powerful muscles beneath, and smiled.

This was his life now, and he was going to live it to the fullest.

[midnightarcheress]

you’re going out.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: pining simon denying till his grave 5 | gold rush masterlist.

Simon was sitting in your living room, hands in the pockets of his jacket and boot anxiously tapping on the wood floor as he waited for you to get ready. you hadn’t seen each other since the trip to France, still too scared to leave your house after that last note, so he wasn’t expecting your rushed text about going out tonight.

“i’m so sorry for calling you last minute,” you say, closing the loop of your earring as you walk out of your bedroom, trying your best not to be late, “a friend invited me for dinner, and i’m not exactly allowed to leave the house without you, so–”

“‘s alright” he mumbles, cutting your rambling and turning to see you, his heart nearly stopping at the view. you’re stunningly standing by the couch, one hand propped on the armrest for support as you lean down to strap your heels, struggling to maintain your balance. in a swift motion, Simon pulls you closer, gently lifting your calf so he could clasp it for you, not noticing your small gasp at his touch and how intimate the gesture must look to anyone else.

he doesn’t mind accompanying you or, in this case, guarding you. it’s nice to have you near, even if it’s just for a few hours and out of arm's reach, it's enough to save him from the dullness of his own life. but tonight is different, new, nerve-inducing. you’re going out with someone. he only ever had to be with you when you’re alone roaming the city or in event-related situations. what the fuck is the etiquette for chaperoning a dinner with a friend?

on the way to the restaurant, he learned that your company is an ex-co-star from one of your movies, who just happened to be your romantic interest. of course. he couldn't help the slight frown that appeared on his face and the small discomfort building in his stomach at the thought of watching you charming some guy for heaven knows how long. the text that gave him hope suddenly turned into a modern-time curse from the gods in a matter of seconds.

the soft piano playing in the background did nothing to steady his heartbeat when the hostess led you to the guy waiting by the window, twenty-thousand-pound watch on his wrist and a smug grin on his face, placing a hand dangerously close to your hip when you greeted him. Simon was placed near the bar, easy path to the exit and a clear view of you, but no liberty to drink away the misery of not being the one making you beam so widely.

it felt like torture, containing the venomous jealousy coursing through his veins, festering his flesh and rotting his brain with gruesome schemes of how he could end this in the blink of an eye. if he had a throwing knife, the guy’s blood would already be pooling under the table and you’d be long one, out of the shackles of your restricting life, far from sycophants and parasites, just safe from whatever threat that wants to maim you.

but he couldn't do that. saving you it’s not on his job description, no matter how badly he wishes to. so he had to endure observing you from afar, watch the soft locks of hair cascading on your face, see your lips take in your third glass of wine, and faintly hear the easy laughter escaping from you after one of the terrible jokes being spit on the table, probably as a consequence of the alcohol, while envy gnawed at the confines of his ribcage and begged to a way out. 

it made no sense for him to feel that way towards you. he was on duty. he was there for a horrible reason, so he felt sorry for you, but how much of it is pity and not true affection? why did the green demon eating his insides subdue when he saw how happy you were? why was his heart nearly skipping a beat whenever you glanced in his direction? certainly, it was just a way to reassure yourself that nothing would happen, but what if it was more? what if he was the reason you retracted your hand when the man in front of you reached for it?

the clock hands moved in a dangerously slow pace, minutes dragging like hours and slipping his mind into a parallel universe where he never left his house, but the sight of the check put on top of the beige cloth of your table was the solace lulling him back to peace. he could finally let out the breath he held since you stepped inside, lungs exhaling and expunging the poison from his system, and drive you back, without a single scratch on your skin.

the ride to your house was quiet, neither speaking more than needed. it wasn’t strange, the communication between the two of you happened mostly out of necessity, but the tension was palpable in the car. his grip on the steering wheel was tight, almost as if he was afraid that if he let go, his hand would rip out every strand of hair standing on his scalp. it was too much. he was relieved to be out of there, confused with the turmoil inside his chest, and angry at himself for getting lost in daydreams about you. 

“can you walk?” Simon asks, holding the passenger door open after stopping at your gate.

“of course i can walk–” your hand finds his arm before your face falls directly into the cobblestones that pave the path to your front door, “okay, maybe i’m a little tipsy.” Simon rolls his eyes after your blithe chuckle and snakes a hand around your waist, helping you head inside.

once in the warmth of your home and after making sure you weren’t too drunk to take care of yourself, he walked out, stomach churning as he tried to ignore the distress of the night and get ready to melt his troubles with a bourbon. but before he could press the code of the alarm and relax his stiff shoulders, your harrowing scream made his heart drop and his legs sprint back to you, fast as lightning strikes, images of the worst possible scenarios already flooding his vision.

his laboured breath meets you pressed against the wall, wide tear-rimmed eyes glaring at the mirror of your bedroom, and his blood pressure rises with concern. he turns to gaze at the mirror, assessing what made you so frightened, and his own eyes widen, ‘i don’t appreciate you entertaining other men, darling. don’t forget who you belong to.’

how i love inner struggle

[liivzen]

Cowboy!Gojoxfem!reader

warnings: pinv, fingering, Softdom!gojo, small mention of body hair, no curses au, slight angst??, pet names used a lot throughout (went a lil overboard my bad) i’m probably missing a lot so lmk if i did :)

wc: 5.1k

story info: reader works at a saloon in small town thats in the middle of nowhere and has a run in with a few people on her way home and a certain cowboy comes to her rescue

MDNI under the cut!!

You picked up the last few glasses that were left on the tables in the bar. You walked over behind the counter and started to clean them and put them back into the cabinets. Once you finished, you walked over and wiped down the counters and table. Letting out a yawn, you quickly grab your things and head to the door to lock up. After the long shift of constantly being catcalled in the saloon all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and enter your world of dreams. Shaking away the fatigue to keep yourself awake for the walk up, you lock up the door.

You turn around and start towards your apartment. It’s not that late, but with it being winter time it was already pitch black outside. The cool wind makes you shiver slightly, making you cross your arms to keep warm. Due to working at the Saloon you only wore so much fabric,the front of your skirt ending at your knees with the back dropping to the ground. The corset you wore brought warmth to your midsection but that was it. Your sleeves barely covered anything, if you could even call them sleeves. Thankfully your boss had let you wear elbow length gloves since it was winter but they didn’t help much.

Walking as briskly as possible, you continue down the street. Due to the cool weather and darkness, there was almost no one on the streets. This made the town seem like a ghost town, compared to the usually bustling town. This did your journey home even less exciting. Trying to cut the venture home, you decided to take a shortcut . In hindsight it probably wasn’t a good idea but the only thing on your mind was the warm comfy bed waiting for you in your room.

As soon as you turned down the side ally you immediately got a gross feeling. It may have looked like a normal ally during daylight, but right now it was a much more nerve racking. A few more steps in and you could see someone slouched leaning against the brick wall of one of the buildings encasing the ally. Thanks to the lack of lighting you couldn’t make out much details of the man. The only thing you could notice was a long dark jacket that reached his half calf high boots and long silver hair descending down from the black cowboy hat he was wearing.

Not wanting to take the short cut anymore, you turn around to make an escape from the ally. However, before you could take a step, you ran straight into a hard body. Looking up, a tall man is glancing down at you with a smile on his face. The man has long dark black hair, and a scar running across the middle of his forehead. He grabs onto the sides of your arms to stop you from falling backwards.

“Well what do we have here?” The stranger in front of you speaks.

You could hear footsteps behind you now, walking towards the direction of you and the stranger. You tense up in the strangers arms once you hear the footsteps stop right behind you.

“It looks like we’ve got a mouse of some sorts Suguru.” A new voice speaks, only inches from your back. You try and struggle out of the mans, Suguru you’re assuming, grasp. His grip however was very strong and you barely moved against his unrelenting hands. This made you even more scared, your heartbeat throbbing against your chest. You glanced behind yourself to get a good look at the man behind you. His silver hair went down to his mid chest and he also had scars running across his face. He had a wide grin going ear to ear and a look in his eyes that was very off putting and didn’t make you any less afraid of these two.

“What do you want?” You breathlessly say, trying your best to sound confident with your words. The two men chuckle at your question and smile at each other.

“Oh nothing, just wondering what a little lady like you was doing all by herself at night.” The one in front of you says, bending his head down so his face is parallel to yours. You try moving your face back but end up hitting the man behind you in the chest. You feel the man behind you grab onto your waist and give a not so gentle squeeze. You try again to break free of the two men but once again it doesn’t work.

You could feel tears welling up into your eyes, realizing there was very little chance of you getting out of this situation. You should’ve known better, being a woman walking around in the outfit you’re in all alone at night. The tears quickly escape your eyes and your hopes of being confident and unafraid of them have washed away. Sugurus hands slide off of your arms but grab onto your chin to make you look at him.

“Aw, the little mouse is crying Mahito.” He says, looking up at the man behind you, who now you knows name is Mahito. Mahito chuckles and starts to slide his hands up towards your breast. However before he can, the three of you hear a new voice.

“Now why do I always come across you messing innocent people Suguru.” The three of you look towards the voice that came from the end of the ally way.

The man standing there was very tall. You couldn’t see his eyes from this far away since they were blocked by his hat. He was also wearing a long jacket that reached the floor, but it was open, letting you see his white shirt he was wearing under a black vest. From this far away you could see the holsters he was adorning though. He had his hand resting on his belt loops at the front of his pants.

Suguru and Mahito loosened their grips on you but didn’t let go completely. They turned themselves around to face this new man that, at the moment, was your saving grace.

“Well where’s the fun if I don’t Satoru.” Suguru responds, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You can see the tall man at the end of ally, Satoru, shake his head and start walking towards you three slowly. You could hear the clicks of his spurs as he started to walk, making him seem very intimidating. As he got closer you could see the man a little better now. He had bright white hair sticking out of his hat the framed his face perfectly. The brim of his hat didn’t obstruct a majority of his face anymore, however a pair of round sunglasses still hid his eyes even though it was nighttime. He had a small smile that looked to be more mischievous than anything. His long fingers traced the handle of his gun that was resting at his hip, ready for use at any moment. Before he gets too close though, he stops a various feet away from you three.

Satoru looks over his sunglasses to look at you now. He could see how scared you were in this moment, the tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your breathing is very heavy. Looking away from you, he looks towards the two men that currently have hands on you.

“Why don’t we let the lady back on her way home and move on our ways hm?” Satoru questions the two men, his grip tightening on the handle of his gun. Suguru decides to let go and head towards the Satoru, leaving you in Mahitos grabby hands. You squirm as much as you can before his grasp around your arms is lock tight. Suguru meets Satoru in the middle of the ally, only a few feet distancing the two.

You could feel the tension radiating from the two, clearly having known each other and things were not well between them. You can see Sugurus hand also fall onto the handle of his gun once he stops in front of Satoru.

“I don’t think I want to Satoru.” Suguru whispered to him but loud enough for you and Mahito to hear.

Before anymore words are shared, hell breaks loose.

Satoru draws his revolver out of his holster and shoots at the wall by you and Mahito, making Mahito drop his grasp on you and dodge away. With this new freedom, you bolt as fast as you can trying not to get caught in gunfire. You hide yourself behind an array of boxes that had been sitting next to one of the buildings.

Peaking your head above the boxes, you could see the battle between the three men clearly. You could see an array of fist and shooting going on. All of them looked very skilled, but Satoru looked to be pulling through better than the other two men.

Before you could speak too soon though, a solid punch made its way across Satorus face, knocking him a little unstable. You were worried for a second, but clearly that moment did bother Satoru. Showing little to no issue, Satoru eventually got the two men on there knees on the ground, two guns pointing at both of them, their hands up in surrender. Next thing you know, Satoru is calling out to you.

“Hey sweatheart, you wanna do me a favor and tie up these fellas here?” Satoru asks you sweetly over his shoulder. Dusting your skirts off, you quickly stand up and make your way over to him.

“Theres some rope and a knife on my belt honey, just move the jacket out the way.” He tells you, guns still trained on Suguru and Mahito. Moving around and ducking under Satorus gun raised arms and stopping in front of him.

Moving His jacket away from around his waist, you see the rope tied around the side of his belt along with the knife in a sleeve of its own. Untying the rope from the brown leather, you grab it and stand in front of it him waiting for instructions. Satoru looks down at you and smiles.

“Thank you darling. Now, can you please tie their wrist together pretty please?” He asks you sweetly. Nodding your head, still too nervous to say anything, you duck back under Satorus arm and go behind Mahito first. You grab his wrist that were in the hair and place them behind his back. You hold the knife against the rope and carefully cut it and tighten as tight as possible.

“Damn pretty, loosen up a little won’tcha” Mahito smirks at you over his shoulder. Not wanting to hear his shit, you tighten the rope even tighter. You look up at Satoru and he’s chuckling down at you. You give a small smile back at him and move Suguru. You also grab onto his hands and start to tie his wrist as well.

“You know one day I’m going to get back at you for all of this Satoru.” Suguru tells Satoru as you finish up tying the rope around his wrist. Satoru chuckles and lowers his guns once you’re finished and stand up, dusting off your skirts.

“Yeah we’ll see about that.” Satoru replies back to him, holstering his two guns. Ignoring the other two men, Satoru makes his way to you. Once in front of you he grabs onto your side.

“You alright darling?” He asks you, caressing the side of your corset’d waist.

“Yes, thank you very much sir.” You replied back to him. He lets out a breathy laugh, removing his coat and placing it around your shoulders. You. could now see his long sleeve shirt with the black vest clearly now. Along with a chain that hung on his neck and disappears below his collar. Before you could stare too much though, you focus back on his face.

“No need for the formalities miss, the names Satoru.” He tells you, making the jacket is secure around your shoulders before letting go of it.

“Oh ok, well thank you Satoru.” You tell him, pulling the jacket close around you. You could feel the warmth left from Satoru on the jacket still, along with the smell of smoke and sweat. Before you could put much thought into the jacket though, Satoru was speaking down at you again.

“Why don’t we get you home now, that sound good?” Satoru asks with a tilt of his had.

“I’d like that please.”

—————————————

Reaching the top of the stairs and stopping at the door to your apartment, you stop and turn around to face Satoru.

“Um, thank you for everything.” You try and tell him, your voice quiet. Satoru has thumbs resting in his front belt loops looking down at you.

“It’s no problem little lady, couldn’t leave someone as beautiful as you so helpless out there.” He smirks down at you. You could feel your face heat up from the compliment.

“Well, goodnight Satoru.” You tell the tall gorgeous man.

“Goodnight miss.” He responds to you, turning away to start heading down the stairs. Before you could rationally think about the words that had left your mouth, you spoke out after him.

“Um, would want to come inside for a drink? I can’t let my saviour leave without a reward of some kind.” You speak out to the white haired man. He slowly turns around and walks back to you.

“I’d love that sweatheart.” He tells you, waiting for you to open the door.

You turn around and unlock your door, pushing it open to let the two of you inside. Satoru took in your place the moment his feet pass the threshold of the door.

Your apartment wasn’t filled with much. You had a small kitchen, just enough to cook yourself basic meals. You had a small table that barely was big enough to fit a plate and utensils for when you did eat, a small wooden chair accompany it. Across the room you have your bed pushed against the wall, that also looks to fit just you and your pillow and blanket. One last little piece was the small chair and bookshelf in the corner that held a few books and a small candelabrum that had a half melted candle on it.

“I know theres not much space, you can sit at the table if you’d like, while i prepare you a drink.” You tell Satoru, motioning towards your small dining table. He gives a little nod and walks himself to the table, scooting the chair out and sitting down. You move over to the cabinets, grabbing a glass and some old whiskey you had for special occasions. You sat the glass in front of Satoru at the table and poured the whiskey in. Satoru still said nothing, quietly watching you pour him the drink. Once you finished, you put the whiskey back in the cabinet and stood next the table watching Satoru. The two of you stared at each other before you looked away, breaking the eye contact, This caused Satoru to chuckle a little before grabbing the glass and taste a bit of the whiskey but not drinking the whole thing.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me miss.” Satoru says faintly, looking at the side of your face since you still couldn’t make eye contact with him. This made you a little aprhensive, but you weren’t scared of him though, so you told him that.

“I wouldn’t have invited you in if i was scared.” You quip back at him softly. This made Satoru chuckle, taking another sip of the whiskey.

“Oh ok, sweetheart. Well I would hate to leave you standing in your own home.” He says, grabbing onto your wrist and rubbing his thumb over your pulse-point. You’re sure he can feel how fast your pulse is and guessing by the way you gasp when he pulls you closer to him, it gets even faster.

“But theres no other places to sit.” You whisper down at him. Due to his height he was still pretty tall even sitting, but you towered over him slightly. He smirks up at you, knowing what he was about to do would surely make your question dwindle within seconds. And oh was he right.

Next thing you know you’re being pulled into his lap. You have no choice but to straddle his thighs, causing your skirt to bunch up around your waist. You could now feel the rough material of his jeans agaisnt your thighs. Your face was heating up immediatly, quickly feeling how hot the air around the two of you was turning even if it was the dead of winter. Satoru was now the one looking down at you in his lap, his arms now locked around your waist holding you to himself. The two of your faces were mere inches from each other now, you could slightly smell the whiskey coming off of Satorus breath once he started speaking.

“As much as I would love to drink this rest of this whiskey as a thanks from you, I think I have a better way of getting a thanks from a gorgeous lady like you.”

“What-“

Before you could even finish lips were crashing into you. You were shocked at first but within second you were melting into the kiss. You could feel Satoru squeeze your body even closer to him the as soon as you started kissing him back. You felt the swipe of a tongue asking for entrance into your mouth. You felt Satoru move a hand down to your ass and squeeze, causing you to gasp and let his tongue into your mouth. This had you melting into him even more, your arms were wrapped around his neck trying to get even closer to him as his tongue roamed the roof your mouth.

You could feel yourself start to roll your hips against his, feeling the hardness that was starting to form against you. Satorus kisses start to move away from your lips and down the side of your neck, his hand starting to roam now. One hand was still squeezing every few seconds, but the other graviated towards you breast. Giving a small squeeze you let out a breathy moan into the air. You feel Satoru smirk against the skin on your neck.

Without much warning though, Satoru stood, picking you up and walking.

This shocked you and you quickly wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms squeezed tighter around his neck. You look to where he was taking the two of you. You noticed that he was walking in the direction of your bed and before you know it, you’re flopping against the old mattress. Satoru stood over your flusterd self, taking in your beauty. After a moment of silence and gazing you speak to him.

“I-I haven’t been bedded before.” You stutter up at the gorgeous man at the foot of your bed. He takes off his hat and sunglasses that he was still wearing, setting them on edge of the bed and leaned down over you.

“That doesn’t matter at all sweetheart, you tell me at any point you want to stop. You decide how far we go, ok?” He whispers to you, fanning stray hairs out of your face. Not able to form anymore words you nod at him biting your lip. Taking notice of your lips again, Satoru captures you in another kiss.

This time it’s a little slower, but still passionate. You felt him run his hands down your sides before reaching behind you. He started to tug at the string of your corset. Once it was loose enough, Satoru broke the kiss and removed the corset all together. As soon as the corset was off he was back to kissing you, this time down the side of your neck towards the peak of your breast. You could feel him start to leave marks from the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin. This had you moaning out and grabbing onto his hair, tugging slightly.

Satorus hand dropped down to the top of your knees, where your dress stopped. You felt him grab the fabric and start bunching it up. Once it was past your waist you could tell he was wanting it off completely. Sitting up slightly you raised your arms to get rid of the dress. The moment the dress was off you wrapped your arms around your now exposed breast. Now you were almost completely nude save for your underwear, whereas Satoru was still his shirt and jeans. Feeling you starting to get nervous, he grabbed onto your face.

“Theres nothing to be worried about sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He spoke softy kissing the top of your forehead.

To make you feel better, Satoru started to lose some of his own clothes. You watched as he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his perfect looking chest. You could’ve guessed he was fit under those layers but you didn’t expect him to look like some greek god. Once shirt fully unbuttoned, he removed it completely, tossing it somewhere in the room. You did have much time to look though because then he was gently pushing you back down on the bed.

Satoru moved your hands and put then above your head, continuing his kisses on the top of your breast. It only took him seconds to get to one of your nipples. He started to gently suck on it, nipping at it every couple of licks. Moving both of your wrist into one of his hands, the other hand started to grope at your other breast, pinching at your other nipple.

This made you throw your head back and arch your back, pressing your chest even more into Satorus face and hand. He could tell you were enjoying it and started to get a little more harder with his pinching and sucking. This had you moaning even louder, and the throbbing between your legs almost painful.

Not wanting to spend too long on your chest, Satoru start to move down. His kisses reach your stomach and eventually down at the top of your underwear. He had moved his hands as well, now grabbing around the sides of your thighs, spreading them. This motion had you coming to your senses a little, causing you clench your legs together.

“It’s alright sweetheart, just wanna see you fully.” Satoru whispers up to giving a small kiss on your left thigh. Trusting him, you open up your legs to him.

Slowly reaching up to the waistband of your underwear, he slowly pulls them down your legs, exposing your cunt to the cold air. You bit your lip and looked away, embarresed that Satoru might be disgusted at what he was seeing now. You knew that hair was normal but it was slowly starting to become a trend to not have any, or have very little. But with your schedule of working you didn’t have time to worry about that. Now though, you did worry about it.

Satoru could tell you were anxious about how he would react to your now exposed cunt, but he didn’t want you to be nervous, he wanted you to feel relaxed.

Without saying anything, he took his fingers and started to rub up along your lips. This made you look down at him, wondering why he wasn’t saying and just staring at your exposed cunt. However, before you could think anything else, his fingers moved up slightly and rub small circles. This makes you twitch a little and spread your legs a little more.

“There we go sweetheart.” Satoru smiled up at you, noticing the pleasure that you’re starting to feel. He continued to rub the small circles on your clit but now taking his other hand spredding you lips apart. Satoru gathered up the slick that was starting to drip down from your hole, rubbing around it almost teasingly. This made you whine a little and move your hips towards his fingers. He chuckled but listened to your whines.

He slowly dipped an index finger of his left hand into your waiting hole. He could feel you squeezing immediately, pulsing around his finger. He looked up at you finally, seeing your face contort in pleasure. The moans you were letting out sounded angelic to him, urging him to do more. And so he did.

He sped up his circles on your clits and added a second finger in your cunt, thrusting in and out. Reaching his head forward, he started to give gentle kisses along the crease of your thigh and pelvis, nipping at it slightly. He could feel you squeezing on his fingers, he even felt you move your hips to match his thrusts.

Satoru could tell you were reaching your climax quickly, so he sped up his thrust. It didn’t take much longer after that for you through your head back against your pillow and let out a loud moan that you’re sure even your neighbors could hear. After a few moments and gasp later, you lift your head up and peer down at Satoru between your legs. And oh is the sight before you something that makes you clench around nothing now.

Satoru is lying there looking up at you with his fingers in his mouth, licking off your cum. He has a smirk that adorns his face that makes him look even more handsome that you could think of. This all had your face heating up and looking away from him. Satoru pushes himself up and gets to his knees between your legs. You watch as he starts to undo the buckle on his pants and bring it out the loops. He tosses the belt elsewhere, just like his shirt, and starts to unbutton his jeans.

You could see how hard he was below his jeans but nothing could’ve prepared you for when he pushes his jeans below his cock. You now had a clear view of his cock, as it was standing there clear as day. His cock was not too long but definitely something to make you gulp. It also has girth to it that made you wonder if you could even fit your hand around it. Satoru could feel you get more nervous as you stared at his cock silently.

“It’s alright pretty, we’ll go as slow as needed.” Satoru reasures you, climbing back over you.

He leans over you putting a hand next to your head, his face now parallel to yours. You look up at him as he locks eyes with you. With his other hand he grabs his cock and aligns himself at your entrance. The second he starts to push himself in you gasp at the feeling of him entering you. Its not necesarily painful but you can feel it stretching you out by a lot. This has you gasping up him, looking into his eyes. Satoru brushes the hair out your face, and kisses down your forehead.

“Its ok, it’ll feel good in a second. I promise sweetheart. Just tell me when to move.” He tells you once he’s fully pushed inside of you.

You sit there for a moment, trying your best to get used to Satorus size. After a minute you tell him he can move and he does. The first few thrust are still a little uncomfortable but then its starts to turn to pleasure. You let out moans once Satoru starts to suck on your neck again. You grab around Satoru neck and grab onto the bottom of his scalp, pulling at the hair there. This makes Satoru let out his own moan into your neck. His thrust getting a little deeper.

Satoru drags a hand down the middle of your body to rub at your clit again. You let out a louder moan at the feeling of his touch. The two of you are letting out your fair shares of moans and you’re sure you’ll be hearing complaints from your neighbors, but right now you don’t really care. Satorus thrust start to get a little faster, and you squeeze around him even harder.

Satoru could tell you were getting close by the way your breath was getting faster and the way you were squeezing him. He could tell he was getting close to his own climax as well. He pulled away from your neck and bent down to your chest, putting a nipple in his mouth. You through your head back at this.

“Ah-Satoru please.” You moan out his name, gripping harder at his hair. This makes him groan into your chest, thrust speeding up even more. He pulls away from your chest and kisses you hard. The two of you moan into each others mouths. After a second, Satoru pulls away just enough to speak.

“Please what sweetheart?” He ask you, thrusting hard into you. You moan out, almost unable to say anything but after a second you get out the few words you want to say.

“I wanna come please.” You tell him breathlessly, looking into his eyes with blurry vision. He smiles down at you holding your face in his hands.

“Don’t have to tell me twice pretty.” He mumbles to you before kissing you hard again.

It doesn’t take much more for you to get what you want. Satorus rubbing at your clit and giving you hard and fast thrust and within minutes your cumming all over his cock. Satorus not far behind you either, pulling out of you quickly and giving himself a few tugs and letting himself go all over your stomach. Once he’s done he’s collapsing next to you on the bed in the limited space given. The two of you catch your breath before any words are spoken. Satorus the first to speak.

“You did a good job sweetheart.” Satoru is mumbling into your shoulder, bringing you closer to him, tucking you against his chest. You let yourself lay against his chest, listening to his heartbeat for a second.

“Mm, thank you.” You tell him after a minute. Satoru chuckles at your tired response, kissing the top of your head. With the little energy that was left, Satoru tucked the two of you under the covers of your bed, taking the same position that you two were just in. The two of you lay there listenting to each other breathe, enjoying the quiet. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dozing off.

Before you could fully fall asleep though you heard a few faint words.

“Get some sleep pretty, you deserve it.” Satoru mumbles into your hair, slowly following you into the much needed sleep.

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an - omgggggg this took two weeks to do write up (thanks to classes being an overload). This is the longest piece i’ve ever written so i hope you all love i! Depending on how this is received i miiiight do a part two, we’ll just have to see :))

thank you very much to my friend who decided to edit this with me, i would’ve posted this way more shittier if i didn’t have my friend (tbh its still probably a bit shitty) so thank you and ilysm.