#'ah i can decompress now'

[rigil-kentauris]

Wolmeric Week 2024 - Day 5 - Time Apart

ao3 link

The Warrior of Light turns to leave off into the sunset for an unknowably long journey to unite the star and save the world, again.

Aymeric panics. He grabs the Enguerran's hand at the last minute.

“Write me,” he blurts.

Enguerran tilts his head. “Uh,” he says awkwardly. “Okay?”

Aymeric frets incessantly for an entire day. Had he misinterpreting things? He hadn’t. He can’t have. They’d had dinner. Acquaintances have dinner all the time. Enguerran had arrived in transparent ribbed leggings with a slim-cut coat that had a socially indecent number of buttons undone up top. The Warrior of Light was an Ul’dah trained weaver who once, or so it was said, publicly and frequently wore grape-purple subligar out on the open streets. Aymeric had never said what he’d thought’d they were, but, well, they’d kissed, hadn’t they? Held hands? He blushes. He’d wanted more than that. He'd thought Enguerran had wanted more than that. Was he wrong? He shouldn't have asked. Three moons ‘till their ship is due in the East, and it’s a long time to wait, but he’ll write back and send it on the very next ship, he will, he’ll fix it, he’ll say-

His private linkpearl chimes. Enguerran is on the other end, with the sound of sailors singing and lines snapping and waves spraying.

Ah, Aymeric thinks.

He puts it out of his mind. He forces it out of his mind. He doesn’t think about it any further, until the first letter from Kugane arrives moons later, dated to the very day Enguerran left Ishgard, and it reads:

To my dearest most darling lover who did panic and forget he does not live in a period Ishgardian romance novel where no-one has any clue what a linkpearl is-

Aymeric slowly and carefully deposits his head on his writing table.

He’ll live – there’s an entire, thick, perfumed letter from the Warrior of Light on his desk to entice him, after all -

But first, he’s going to spend some time on his desk.

[roychewtoy]

[reilemon]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Under The Stars ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw:unprotected sex, tent sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, pussy job, cum swallowing

♡︎word count: 3.9k

♡︎synopsis: What happens when you share a tent with your crush? The story starts where the memory Precious Bonfire ends.

♡︎a/n: I wrote this during my ovulation week. Also, I went over this once, so if you see any mistakes, no you don't.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!

banner by @cafekitsune

Xavier looks up from the game card “Ah, I figured out what I want my payment to be.” He smiles softly at you and hands you the card, “Tell me when you’re overwhelmed next time.”

A little confused, you absent-mindedly take the card that’s not even yours. “That doesn’t sound like a payment.”

“Well, it is.”

“No, it’s not. Think of something else!” You say with playfulness in your voice. Of course you don’t mind accepting to “pay him off” in this way, but he’s been so helpful and resourceful today, that you’d feel bad for asking for more assistance.

He just shakes his head and stands up from his seat in the camping van, and walks away. End of discussion, I guess.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆

You spent a few minutes sitting alone in the van, decompressing, but also thinking of ways to return the favor. Seriously, what’s a good way to show him your gratitude? You know he’s not doing this because he expects something in return. Xavier is a genuine and sweet soul, someone who is reliable (except in the kitchen) with a soothing presence. He never seems overwhelmed, even when he lights his oven on fire.

You sigh wistfully. You were hoping he was going to say “Let’s go on a date!” or “Can I sleep in your tent?” or maybe “You know, the front of my pants is feeling a little tight, could you lend me a hand –“ you blush, hiding your face in your hands. If only.

You glance at your phone to look at the time. You decide you’ve spent enough time away from everyone, letting your mind wander – how big is it? – okay, you really need to focus and go back to your colleagues.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆

The rest of the evening went uneventful – you hung out with your friends, cleaned up the mess and then took a relaxing shower. Somewhere between cleaning up and the shower, you swiped a pack of chocolate covered strawberries from the mafia game winner. You wanted those strawberries the moment your eyes landed on them in that pile of snacks.  And you’ll buy them later and give them back, so technically you’re borrowing them!

Besides, you want to give them to Xavier as a small thank you. He deserves more than this, but it will do for now.

Anyway, after the refreshing shower, you’re looking around the campsite. Most of your colleagues are cozying up in their tents, only a few still talking and drinking outside. Where’s Xavier?

You saw him earlier hanging out with others, but now… your eyes land on his figure, lounging by a tree away from all the tents.

You approach him. “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep outside.”

Xavier, not opening his eyes, says “I have no problem sleeping outside.”

“Well, as the captain of this group, I very much do.” You extend your arm towards him “C’mon, you can sleep in my tent.”

He opens his eyes as he hears the offer. “Are you – “

You grab his hand, “Yes, the tent is big enough for the two of us.” You suddenly remember that you only brought one blanket, but this summer night is nice and breezy so it shouldn’t be an issue.

Hesitant at first, Xavier nods and gets up while holding your hand. He moves his backpack to your tent and goes to take a shower, giving you time to change into pajama shorts and tank top; not really appropriate in this situation, but who cares!

As you spread out the blanket over the sleeping mat and two pillows, (yes, two, the other one was meant for your knees), you sit there waiting for him and then you realize – wow, it’s kinda fucking cold in here!

You were so focused on being a good captain and taking care of everyone that it completely slipped your mind that you should pack warmer pajamas and maybe a sleeping bag; it doesn’t matter that it’s summer, nights are always colder in the woods.

As you wonder if the blanket will be warm enough, from the corner of your eye you notice Xavier approaching the tent. He’s wearing a loose white t-shirt and gray cotton shorts. You move a little to make room for him, and when he crouches to step inside, your eyes are glued to his muscular legs. The staring makes you miss the way Xavier’s eyes take in your figure, the smooth skin of your thighs and your pebbled nipples poking underneath your top.

You quickly shift your gaze to his face; he’s looking around the tent. Suddenly you’re nervous. It hits you that you’ll be sleeping next to Xavier in this small ass tent. You feel an awkward tension, so you say “I hope this is enough room for you! I don’t have one more blanket but I do have an extra pillow!”

Xavier chuckles, and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s good enough for me. I just hope you’re comfortable with this.”

“Of course I am!” You say very convincingly. As you nervously shift, your thigh grazes the box of strawberries. Right, I almost forgot! You take them and offer the box to him. “Here, a small token of my gratitude.”

He eyes the fruit, not taking them immediately. “Where did you get those?”

“The winner gave them to me.”

“Really?”

“I stole them.” You say with a shy smile. Some things are just impossible to hide from him.

He chuckles, “I’ll take them, but only if you have some as well.”

You agree and he opens the box, placing it between you two.

You’re the first one to try them, and you’re so pleased that your little crime paid off. And by Xavier’s little mm!  you know that he enjoys the sweetness of chocolate and the strawberries as well. You sit there for a while, eating and chatting about whatever; mostly about the books he’s been reading and the new game both of you started playing.

You don’t feel that tired anymore. It’s probably the shower that washed away all the fatigue of the day. And the adrenaline from talking, not only talking but sharing a tent and then later sleeping next to your crush. You’re actually so excited you could run laps around the campsite, but at the same time so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself.

After you take another bite of the fruit, you notice that Xavier’s eyes are lingering on your lips? No, your cheek?

His hand slowly goes towards your face, and you stand still, unsure of what he wants. His ring finger gently wipes the corner of your mouth.

He smiles, “You had some chocolate there.”

When he’s about to lick his finger, you joke “Hey! You’re taking my chocolate!”

He stops for a second, looks at the finger, then at you. “You’re right. Do you want it back?” He asks with that teasing glint in his eyes as he holds the digit in front of your lips.

You’re stunned for a moment, trying to read the situation. Does he really want you to lick it off?

Okay, you can play along; with your eyes on his, you start to lick the chocolate. Xavier’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips slightly part as he watches you lick and suck his finger clean. It made his shorts tighter, and he hopes that you don’t notice the outline of his erection on his gray shorts.

And you’re so frustrated at yourself because of how wet this little interaction made you.

When you’re done, with a light blush on his cheeks, he pulls back his hand and clears his throat. “You’re really good at this.”

You only sheepishly smile and continue the conversation like nothing happened.  

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆

“You didn’t bring a sleeping bag?” Xavier asks as you as you both get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, it’s dead silent as everyone around you is sleeping or trying to fall asleep. You’re surprised that Xavier managed to stay awake this long.

You admit that you forgot the fact that it’s colder at night here than back in the city. “But the blanket should be big enough for both of us.” You offer to go ask someone for one more blanket, but he refuses and says that he’s worried about you being cold.

His eyes scan over your barely covered body “I can borrow you my hoodie. But it smells like campfire.”

“I’m gonna to be fine. Let’s just go to sleep.” You reassure him (and yourself). With that, both of you lie down, your backs turned, and cover yourself with a blanket that is not enough for two people.

Xavier lets you take most of it, but tries to not make it obvious, so he holds onto it, only his back covered.

Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes pass, you don’t know. You just can’t fall asleep. Not only because your ass is freezing, but because he is lying right next to you. And judging by his deep breathing, he’s asleep. Of course he is. You turn on your back and stare at the stars peeking through the mesh screen of the tent. You don’t want to move around too much or step outside because you don’t want to wake him. He’s had an exhausting day too.

You turn on your side, facing his back. You can’t see much in the dark tent, the only light source being the moon and the stars, and faint fairy lights outside. But it’s visible enough to admire his light fluffy hair and how wide his back is. You crave to trace your fingers over his shirt, through his hair… you completely took over the blanket!

You cover his figure, but then you’re a little exposed. With a sigh, you move closer to him as quietly as possible. Now, time to turn around in the same manner. But, Xavier is already switching to his other side, turning to you, and you’re so close, almost nose to nose and he opens his eyes.

You’re holding in your breath, freezing in place. “Sorry.” You whisper. “I just wanted to cover you.”

His sleepy eyes stare at yours, then at your lips. It takes him a second to register your words. “You’re still awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you cold?”

You take second before answering “Maybe.”

“Turn around.”

You do as you’re told expecting him to roll you into the blanket like a burrito and then you’d feel really bad. Those thoughts evaporate when you feel his warm arm slip around your waist, pulling your back against his strong, yet soft, chest, while his lower body keeps a respectful distance.

His breath tickles the skin of your neck, making you shiver. “Is this okay?”

You only muster a squeaky ‘mhm’, and then he falls silent again, with his face nuzzled against your neck. You close your eyes, and try to count sheep.

One sheep…two sheep… your arm gets uncomfortable so you place it over his that’s resting on your waist, the contact making his hand search your hand, entangling his fingers with yours, and then pulling you in a tighter embrace.

Exhaling a shuttering breath, you continue… three sheep… you’ve been keeping your legs pin straight this whole time and they’re starting to feel stiff and sore. But if you bend them, they’ll be exposed to cold air, but if you curl up you’ll be pressing your butt against Xavier’s crotch, or at least lower belly.

Four sheep…

The gentle whisper of your name against your ear makes you yelp. You thought he fell asleep.

Xavier repeats your name, and you can hear the smirk on his lips “Position yourself however you please. I want you to be comfortable.”

You exhale a breath you’ve been holding. “Okay.”

You move into the fetus position, making yourself as comfortable as possible, warm in his embrace, your bottom keeping an awkward distance from his lower half.  You bite your bottom lip and try to regulate your breathing. He can probably feel how fast your heart is beating. You think how it’s unfair that he can feel how flustered you are.

You feel his slow heartbeat, but you can’t see his feverish red cheeks.

“Is it better now?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s just that...” It’s just that your legs and buttocks are still cold.

When you don’t finish your sentence, he nudges your neck with his nose. “Your legs are cold.”

The hand on your waist moves and his fingers lightly glide over your upper thigh. When you don’t protest, he starts caressing, warming up your skin. The contact makes you hot between your legs, making you unconsciously rub your thighs and arch your back, your butt backing up against his front. 

You immediately flinch, jolting your middle forward outside the covers. “Sorry.” You mumble, your cheeks burning in embarrassment, your body staying in that awkward position.

Xavier can’t help but laugh at the position you’re in. He rubs your shoulder in an attempt to console you. “It’s okay. I don’t mind”

It takes you a few seconds to muster up the courage to go back under the cover, closing the distance between your bodies, letting him spoon you.

You feel like you could melt in his arms; he’s so warm, smells like fresh linen and herbal hair shampoo. Even though you’re still nervous, your body is able to relax and press further against him, unintentionally grinding your soft bottom against his quickly hardening length.

Your pussy clenches as you feel his clothed hard dick against you. He doesn’t say anything, but shift a little further from you.

You don’t know if it’s the weariness, the horniness, or the boldness (if you can call it that), that makes you whisper. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” And you close the distance again, this time slowly sliding your ass against him to prove your point.

A shuddering breath leaves his lips, as he starts moving at your pace. He shifts to rest on his elbow and his hand moves up to cup your cheek, and you turn to face him, your hips halting the movement.

He gazes into your eyes and nudges the tip of your nose with his. He softly breathes your name and his soft warm lips leave a feather light kiss on yours. He waits for your reaction with those puppy eyes that always make you weak.

With the hand that was under you, you hold the side of his face and pull him into a soft kiss. Your lips softly graze and nip as Xavier adjusts his body, elbows resting on either side of your head, his chest resting against yours, but his pelvis is hovering against yours.

You decide to be the one to take the next step; fingers of one hand run through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your tongue glosses his bottom lip and slipping inside, tasting his. The other hand pushes down his lower back, and he takes the hint.

You gasp into the kiss as his dick grinds right between your clothed folds, grazing your clit just right. Your cheeks and core are burning as Xavier starts rutting waster and harder, you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest. Both of you are panting between kisses, suppressing moans and whines.

He breathes against your lips “We should stop.” When he notices a flash of disappointment on your face, he adds, “It’s so easy to hear everything here.”

You nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” You gulp and take in deep breaths. Your tent is the furthest from the rest, but still close enough to hear if someone is getting it on.

He rolls over to his side, still facing you. His eyes take in your features as his fingertips graze over them. He pulls you in by the back of your head into a slow kiss. Your lips taste each other, tongues licking, his teeth playfully nibbling your bottom lip.

The hand on the back of your hand travels over your jaw to hold your chin, and a deep sigh leaves his lips. He whispers, “It’s so hard to hold back.” and the continues tasting your plump lips.

Those words make your panties wetter than they were. You throw your leg over his hips and soon you’re straddling him, and his arms envelop you, pressing your body flush against his, his hips bucking up to meet yours once again.

But you crave more contact and so does Xavier. At the same time, Xavier pulls down his shorts and you take off yours. A whimper escapes your lips as you sit back down on his rock hard dick, your sexes only separated by thin fabric.

He pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss, his hands grabbing your ass, moving your hips in the same rhythm with his. The friction feels so good, too good. Your pussy is creaming so much, making a mess of your panties and his boxer briefs. Then he shifts his hips a little and his cockhead starts hitting and rubbing your clit over and over, and you’re mewling and panting into the sloppy kiss.

He smirks against your lips. “Honey, I need you to stay quiet. I don’t want anyone else to hear you like this.”

The heat pools in the bottom of belly. “Xavier, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Is my little bunny feeling good?” He pants, and by the twitching of his cock, you think he’s close too.

You hold back a disappointed whine when he puts a distance between your hips, but then you feel him push down his boxers freeing his throbbing dick. He pulls your panties to the side and brings your hips back down, your dripping pussy lips sliding against his thick length, and he immediately locks your lips with his, swallowing your moan.

He has you in a tight embrace, one hand on the plump flesh of your ass and the other on the back of your neck. His lips leave a wet trail from your lips over your jaw to the shell of your ear, and you listen to his restrained pants and grunts.

His hot breath fans over your ear “Let’s come together.” He pulls up both of your shirts a bit, and you feel his hard ab muscles tensing against your skin.

You can only nod as the tip starts hitting your clit again, and in a few seconds you’re coming undone on top of him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, muffling your moans.

Xavier follows shortly after, his cum spilling over both of your bellies.

You take a moment to calm down and you notice that he’s still as hard. You come up to meet his gaze.

His eyes are veiled with so much lust and craving. “I – “

“Please, fuck me.” You need more.

With those three magic words, he’s on top of you again, his shirt and the blanket disregarded somewhere in the corner. He pushes your tank top over your breasts, his hot lips latching onto your nipple while his fingers play with the other one, while his cock is sliding with ease between your slippery folds.

You know that he wants to prep you more, but you feel like you’ve been edged for too long, your hole clenching around nothing.

Xavier’s breath hitches against your nipple when you reach down and wrap your hand around his member, feeling how long and thick he is (he’s longer than your thought).

He comes up and holds your gaze as you tease the tip against your soaking entrance “I need you now.”

His hand switches with yours, slowly easing into you, his gaze never leaving yours. He swallows thickly, and cursing under his breath as he feels your walls clench around him.

And you’re a mess under him, biting your lip to contain your moans and whines, but your pussy is already fluttering around his length, second orgasm building up.

When he’s finally buried to the hilt, he rests his body on top of yours, neither of you caring about the slippery cum between you, if anything it spurs you on even more.

He slowly starts rolling his hips, his lips leaving open mouth kisses over your collar bone and your neck. You fingers find purchase in his hair and nails lightly scrape the skin over his taut back muscles. In your daze you take a moment to admire his strong back and then you move your hand from his back to grab his biceps. Fuck, you wish there was more light here.

Xavier’s lips lock with yours in a sloppy kiss, his tip grazing your sweet spot with every thrust while his fingertips rub your sensitive bundle of nerves. His voice is raspy from all the strangled groans, “You’re squeezing me so hard, princess. Are you gonna come for me?”

You only manage a small moan in response, and you don’t even care if you’re loud. And the wet smacking of his pelvis against your creamy cunt is already giving you away.

You barely give any warning as suddenly another orgasm crashes over you, his free hand covering your mouth. He coos in your ear that’s right and you’re so pretty and sweet names that you barely register as you whimper against his hand and your pussy spasms around his cock.

As you come down from your high, he picks up the pace and soon you notice him twitching inside you, his hips stuttering and his pants becoming shallower.

He murmurs “Where do you want me?”

You fight back the urge to say ‘inside’, you want him to fill you up so bad, but now is not the place to make that kind of mess.

Still, you don’t want spill it outside. “Use my mouth.”

His face burns and his dick painfully throbs at those words. You rest on your elbows as he pulls out and straddles your waist, his hand resting on your head.

You let him guide the tip past your lips, and you swirl your tongue around it tasting your mixed juices. He swallows a moan as you take him in deeper; swollen lips enveloping his cock, tongue swirling, tasting him, and grazing his pulsing veins, and he can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits him with how good you’re at this.

Pushing those thoughts back, he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re taking me so good.”

He starts thrusting, unable to hold back much longer. He whispers between pants “Tap my arm if I go too hard.”

You hum against his length, focused on relaxing your throat as his cockhead starts hitting more and more with each thrust and stutter of his hips.

You feel him throb hard in your mouth, and his hand travels under your chin. You hear him demand with a strangled groan “Look at me.”

Your eyes lock with his, the sight of you sucking him in with a fucked-out face making him tip over the edge, filling your mouth with his hot cum.

He takes shaky breaths as he twitches in your mouth as you suck him and swallow each drop, not letting anything go to waste.

After he pulls out, he sits next to you and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.

He holds your face in his hands, his nose nudging yours. “Are you okay?”

You nod and kiss him again. And then you feel cold air hit the wet spots on your body. You chuckle “We need to get cleaned up, though.”

With that, you wipe yourselves with wipes and dress up to make an awkward walk towards the bathroom. You just hope that no one heard what you were doing in the tent. Or the shower.

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

let the band play

one-shot

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Fem!Reader

Summary: This is the last straw. While out on recon with Butcher and Hughie, Ben went into your bedroom and used your favourite shirt to clean himself off. You're going to let the smug idiot know exactly what you think about him. Trouble is? He likes it.

Warnings: 18+!, Ben being his own warning again, language, creative insults, smut (panty-sucking, p in v, clitoral stimulation, cum on face, biting, sucking, licking, kissing, throttling, rough sex, slapping), misogyny, dirty talk, degradation, I may have missed some.

Word Count: 3,930

A/N: OKAYYYY, I got another one written and I lowkey (very, very highkey, actually) love nasty, mean, rough Ben more than I can ever put into words. Can you even imagine the pure hate-fucking this man is capable of? Ungh. <3 This one was inspired by a song... if you wanna give it a listen, then please do: "Let The Band Play" by Badflower. It's dark and gritty and just delicious for the tense vibes of this one-shot. As always, please give me feedback, if y'all feel like it. Until the next one! All the love.

"Oh, you lazy, no good, deadbeat Lying, woman-hating, piece of vile fucking scum You fucking downright piece of shit I'll spit on your grave, I'll make you suffer I'll massacre you, you fucking bastard You vile piece of shit, I'm coming for you You hear me? I'm coming for you! I'm coming for you! Ah!

And let the band play" 

Let The Band Play - Badflower 

The rhythmic slosh of the washing machine filled the cramped space, a dull, ceaseless churn that did nothing to tamp down the blistering heat rising in your chest. Your arms were folded tight, foot tapping against the scuffed linoleum, jaw clenched hard enough to make your teeth ache. The faint smell of detergent curled in your nose, too clean, too artificial, grating against the raw fury pressing like a hot coal against your ribs.

You weren’t even supposed to be here right now. You should’ve been upstairs, knocking back whatever cheap whiskey was left in the cabinet, decompressing after another long recon run. Instead, you were here, waiting for your shirt—your favourite black shirt—to be scrubbed of his fucking filth.

Because Ben had gone into your room. Again. He’d slithered his way into your space while you were out with Butcher and Hughie, ransacking your drawers, shifting your weapons, mixing your bullets in the wrong order—his usual bullshit. But this time, he’d taken it further. This time, you’d picked up your shirt and felt it, the crusted, stiff stain scraping against your fingers before your brain even caught up with what it was.

That fucking bastard.

The worst part? You weren’t even surprised. You’d known for a while now—panties disappearing, small things out of place, the gnawing suspicion sitting ugly in your gut. He’d been toying with you. Pushing, needling, waiting for you to catch on. And now you definitely had.

The door creaked behind you, and you didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. The air changed when Ben walked into a room—went heavy, charged, dangerous. That insufferable, lazy swagger, the barely-there drag of his boots, the scent of cologne and gunpowder and sheer, unrepentant arrogance.

“You’re stompin’ those pretty little feet like you got somethin’ to say, sweetheart.”

Your teeth snapped together so hard your molars screamed. His voice was dripping in amusement, thick with condescension, his usual cocktail of shit-eating smugness and predatory glee. He’d been waiting for this. Fucking waiting for it.

Slowly, you turned, arms still crossed, eyes slicing up to meet his with a glare sharp enough to slit his throat. He was leaning against the doorway like he had all the time in the world, watching you, his gaze hungry, expectant.

“I’m going to kill you.”

The words were calm, measured. Deadly. They only made him grin wider.

“Yeah?” He took a step forward, slow and deliberate. “What’s got your panties in a twist this time?”

Your nails dug into your palms. “You know exactly what.”

Ben hummed, tilting his head like he had to think about it, like he wasn’t fully aware of what he’d done, like he wasn’t thrilled about it. Then—mock surprise, all wide eyes and fake innocence.

“Ohhh,” he drawled, lips curling. “You mean your little t-shirt?”

The rage that slammed through your system nearly made your vision white out. He knew. He fucking knew.

“Are you—are you fucking serious?” Your voice came out strangled, barely contained. “You—you used my shirt? You went into my fucking room and—“

“Oh, come on,” he cut you off, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like you were wearin’ it.”

“That’s not the fucking point!”

Ben chuckled, a low, dark thing, rich with enjoyment. He took another step closer, and you barely stopped yourself from stepping back. You wouldn’t give him that.

“You’re gettin’ all worked up over a little mess,” he mused, voice syrup-thick with mockery. “What, you never had a guy come on your clothes before?”

Something inside you snapped.

The next thing you knew, you were shoving him—hard. He barely moved, but it didn’t matter. You wanted him to feel it. You wanted him to know that if you had a knife in your hand right now, you’d be planting it between his ribs.

Ben laughed.

A deep, rich, obnoxious fucking sound, like you were the funniest thing he'd seen all day. Like your rage was a fucking delight to him. His grin stretched wider, slow and deliberate, his eyes glinting with something sharp and dangerous.

“Aw, c’mon now,” he drawled, brushing nonexistent dust off his sleeve. “That all you got?”

Your hands curled into fists. “You are a scummy, vile, dirty old man,” you spat. “You’re just an old fucking dog, and I shouldn’t be surprised that you can’t be trained, because you can’t teach old dogs new tricks.”

Ben preened. Actually fucking preened. His broad shoulders straightened, his smirk turned smugger, his eyes burned with excitement.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured, faux concern dripping from his tone. “Keep twitchin’ that little eye of yours like that and you’re gonna pop a blood vessel. Then what? No man’s gonna wanna fuck you.”

Your nostrils flared. Your pulse roared in your ears. Oh, fuck this.

Your hand snapped out, grabbing the first thing within reach—the bottle of fabric softener sitting beside the washing machine—and hurled it at him.

It hit him in the chest with a solid thud, and the bastard laughed.

“You’re real fuckin’ feisty, you know that?” He taunted, shaking his head. “Maybe if you weren’t such a mouthy little fuckin’ bitch, you’d actually get laid.”

Your vision blurred with rage. “And maybe if you weren’t such a festering, antiquated, deadbeat, woman-hating piece of shit, Payback wouldn’t have sold you out to the fucking Russians!”

His expression flickered. Just for a second. Just for a fucking second. And then his grin turned razor-sharp. His entire body shifted, and before you could register it, he moved.

He was on you in a breath.

One second, the space between you still existed—thin, crackling, electric. The next, gone. Ben stepped into it, filled it, drowned you in it, his body crowding yours until there was nowhere left to go. He was all heat, size, weight, a walking, talking fucking menace with that razor-blade smirk cutting across his face.

“Say it again,” he murmured, low and lethal, a dark, dangerous purr that slithered up your spine and coiled in your gut.

Oh, he was furious. You could see it in the taut set of his jaw, in the slight twitch of his fingers, in the barely restrained tension vibrating under his skin. But it wasn’t just anger. No, it was something else, something filthy, something that made his nostrils flare and his chest rise just a little too quickly.

He liked it. He fucking liked it.

So you gave it to him.

“You’re a no-good, perverted, misogynistic, chauvinist fucking cunt.” Your voice was steady, vicious, every word sharper than the last. “And if you ever step foot in my fucking room again, I’ll kill you. For real.”

His smirk twitched. Something flickered.

You weren’t done.

“You’re not a fucking war hero, Ben. You never stormed a goddamn thing in your life. Your entire legacy is bullshit—a propaganda piece for a country that doesn’t even fucking remember you. You’re just a relic of Vought’s past, and even they didn’t want you anymore.”

The groan that rumbled out of him was filthy. Deep, appreciative, dragging through his throat like smoke and sex and something far, far worse.

His hand slid down his front, blatant as all hell, and he palmed at the hard line of his cock through his jeans—adjusted it, made a whole goddamn show of it, a smirk creeping across his mouth as he let his head tip back just a little.

“Fuck, you’re really gettin’ me going now, sweetheart.”

Your stomach turned. Your lip curled into a vicious scowl, disgust and rage flooding through you all at once. You swung for him. Fast. Hard. Unforgiving.

He caught your wrist mid-air. Effortless. And then he moved.

A sharp yank, a forceful shove, and you were bent backwards over the still-rumbling washing machine, your spine curving against the vibrating metal, heat searing across your back from the sheer force of it. The room tilted, the whir of the machine filling your ears.

Ben’s weight pressed down, locked you in place.

One huge, brutal hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you down, thumb digging against your pulse, while the other clamped down on your hip—heavy, immovable, possessive.

A slow exhale ghosted across your cheek, the warmth of it infuriating, unbearable, suffocating.

His voice was a murmur, low and deep and satisfied as all fucking hell.

“Now we’re talkin’.”

“Get the hell off me.”

Your voice was sharp, but the angle was all wrong, your body bent backward, pinned at an unnatural curve against the still-running washing machine, his hand locked around your throat, fingers flexing just enough to remind you he could tighten his grip whenever the fuck he wanted.

And he laughed. Again.

That deep, gravel-rough chuckle, smug and entirely too entertained, rolling through his chest like you’d just told the funniest joke of his goddamn life.

“Sweetheart, I could pop your fuckin’ head off right now if I wanted to.”

Your teeth bared, rage coiling tight and vicious in your gut. With a sharp growl, you surged up, trying to fight against his hold, trying to push through the weight of him—

He used it against you.

Fast. Effortless. Completely, infuriatingly controlled.

His grip tightened around your throat, his other hand locked down hard on your hip, and suddenly, you were being lifted, hauled up like you weighed nothing. The room tilted, the washing machine’s hum shaking through your spine as he set you down on the edge—your thighs now spread around his waist, your body trapped between the vibrating machine and the sheer, unrelenting weight of him.

One of his hands clamped down on your hip, fingers curling in deep, holding you in place while his other shifted, the grip around your neck moving—repositioning—until his forearm was suddenly braced against your throat, keeping you folded against the machine, against the wall, against him.

And fuck.

Your breath hitched—not just from anger.

He felt it. He heard it.

That small, involuntary whimper that spilled from your lips the second he shifted, the hard, thick length of him dragging against you through your clothes—through nothing but layers of fabric.

His grin sharpened.

Head tilted, eyes dropping low, slow, deliberate—watching exactly where his hips were pressed up tight against yours. Then, back up to you. Those green eyes burned—mocking, amused, completely, utterly in control.

“You wanna get fuckin’ spread open, doll?”

You clenched your jaw, forcing down the humiliation pooling hot and unbearable in your gut. Your body was betraying you.

Every slow, deliberate grind of his hips sent a fresh wave of heat rippling through you, the thick, heavy length of him dragging against the growing dampness between your thighs—and he knew it.

Of course he fucking knew it.

Your fingers curled against the vibrating metal beneath you, desperate to keep some grip on your sanity, your dignity, your fucking composure. You still had fight in you. You weren’t going to let him see you fold.

Your lips curled, voice dripping in mockery, even as your breath hitched.

“Surprised you can even still get it up, Grandpa.”

His grin was wicked.

Then—pressure. A sharp, sudden grind, his hips pressing hard into yours, forcing the full, thick line of his cock against you, pinning you in place with nothing but pure weight and heat and dominance.

Your breath punched out of you in a soft, humiliating whimper.

Ben just grinned wider.

“That feel like I got any performance issues, sweetheart?”

His voice was thick, syrupy and dark, the rasp curling at the edges, drenched in amusement. His forearm pressed harder against your throat, not cutting off your air, but reminding you—reminding you exactly who was in control.

Your hands twitched, nails biting into the fabric of his jacket, unsure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

Then, his mouth dipped lower, his voice dropping into something slower, heavier, more dangerous.

“I know you wanna get fucked by me.”

Your stomach flipped. Your body went rigid, your breath caught hard in your throat.

His smirk stretched wider, all sharp teeth and victorious smugness.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he murmured, tilting his head, his hips rolling slow and steady, rubbing deliberately, cruelly against your aching core. “When you think I’m not watchin’. When you think you’re bein’ real fuckin’ subtle.”

Your brain screamed denial, denial, denial, but fuck, fuck, fuck—

Because he wasn’t wrong.

Your mind flickered back—to the safe house gym, to the few times you’d ended up in the same room, both of you training, ignoring each other, keeping your distance.

Except you hadn’t really been ignoring him.

You remembered it too well—the way your gaze would drift, the way your teeth would sink into your bottom lip without thinking, watching the sheer power of him, all raw, solid muscle, all sweat-slicked, feral fucking strength, the way he moved, like a goddamn beast barely caged.

You had watched him.

And he’d fucking seen it.

“Shouldn’t feel too bad,” Ben continued, his voice low and thick, that tone dripping with mock sympathy. His hips rolled forward again, slow, deliberate, grinding his cock hard against you, dragging that pressure right over your aching, humiliatingly wet core.

“I watch you too, doll.”

Your breath hitched.

Oh, fuck.

“Barely hold myself back from comin’ over n bitin’ your fuckin' ass when you’re doin’ squats in those stupid little shorts.” His voice went rough, nearly gravelled, all hot and smug. “Y’know the ones, sweetheart—the ones that look like they’re painted the fuck on.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. Because your eyes had flickered down—without thinking, without meaning to—and suddenly, you realised you were wearing those shorts right now.

Your body went rigid, heat flaring over your cheeks, over your chest, a full-body flush of anger, humiliation, something else.

Ben’s smirk widened. His forearm pressed harder into your throat, cutting off just enough space to make you feel the pressure, to make your breath catch.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips nearly brushing your jaw. “I noticed.”

Your stomach flipped.

His hips ground into you again, the full, thick line of his cock pressing exactly where he wanted you to feel it.

Then—his voice dropped into something low, dark, final.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time. Real nice.” His smirk twitched. “Do you wanna get fuckin’ split open—” another sharp grind, your body jerking at the friction, your mouth parting in a whimper—“or are you gonna keep pretendin’ to be the little modern feminist pussy we both know you ain't?”

The word tore from your lips before you could even think.

“Once.”

The second it was out of your mouth, he moved. His lips slammed into yours, all teeth and heat and hunger, a brutal, ravenous collision, his tongue licking into your mouth like he was trying to devour you from the inside out.

He growled into the kiss, biting, sucking, wrecking your lips like he had every intention of leaving them swollen and bruised for days. His hand snapped up, tangling roughly in your hair, tugging, tilting your head exactly how he wanted.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

You scrambled for purchase, hands grasping, clawing at his hair, his jacket, trying to pull him closer, tighter, anything—but your angle was still off, your back still pressed at that awkward arch against the washing machine, still trapped by his weight.

You barely had time to process before he grabbed the neckline of your shirt and—

Ripped.

The fabric tore in half with one sharp pull, the pieces hanging uselessly off your arms, baring your heated, flushed skin to the cool air of the laundry room.

Your eyes snapped up, scowling.

“You’re a dick.”

Ben grinned, chest heaving, thrilled.

Then you fisted his own shirt, fingers curling in tight, and ripped it straight down the middle—just like he had done to you.

He laughed, a deep, rasping sound that sent heat pulsing between your thighs. Then he hooked both hands into your shorts, yanked hard—

Riiiip.

The material shredded apart, leaving you in nothing but your soaked underwear.

Ben hummed, voice all mock innocence, the barest smirk curling his lips.

“Oops.”

Before you could snap back, before you could snarl and shove and cuss him out, he shoved you down, pushing you flat against the washing machine, his hands pressing down heavy on your thighs to keep them spread.

And then—his mouth was on you.

Right over your slick, soaked underwear, latching on, sucking hard, loud, obscene, the heat of his tongue pressing hot and wet through the fabric.

A sharp, wrecked sound tore from your throat, your hands flying out to grab for anything—his hair, the edges of the washing machine, the crumpled remains of your shirt.

Ben moaned against you, soaking in your reaction like it was the best thing he’d ever fucking heard.

And then—he did it again.

Ben’s groan vibrated straight into your core, deep and wrecked, as he sucked hard, his mouth sealing over your underwear, dragging the fabric and your aching cunt into his mouth. The heat of his tongue pressed, the wet suction pushing through, and your hips jerked, a sharp, unbidden gasp ripping from your throat.

Then he pulled back, lips slick, breath ragged, eyes burning as he flicked them up to yours.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dark and guttural, half-taunt, half-worship. “Real fuckin' sweet.”

Before you could fire back, before you could even breathe, his hand snapped up and—

Smack.

A sharp, stinging slap right over the spot where his mouth had just been.

A startled yelp tore from your lips, your body tensing against the vibrating metal beneath you, and Ben just grinned, eyes gleaming with something hungry, predatory, insatiable.

You barely had a second to recover before he was shoving his jeans down, just enough to free himself, his cock thick, flushed, hard as fuck, and you were already struggling, fingers shaking as you tried to yank your underwear down.

You got one leg free—

Then he was back on you. His hand slammed against your chest, pinning you back down, your underwear still clinging to your other leg, tangled just above your knee.

“Nah, sweetheart,” he rasped, gripping himself, lining up. “You don’t need to worry ‘bout that.”

And then—

He sank in.

One, long, achingly slow stroke, stretching you open, shoving in deep, until he was buried to the fucking hilt.

Your mouth parted, a wrecked, breathless moan spilling past your lips, your hands clawing for something, anything, nails scraping over the metal of the machine, the bare skin of his biceps, the solid muscle of his stomach.

Ben let out a rough, punched-out breath, his head tilting forward, his forearm tightening where it pinned your throat again.

Through gritted teeth, voice low and shattered, he muttered, “Holy shit, sweetheart—way fuckin’ tighter than I thought you’d be.”

You barely registered the words.

Your mind was already white noise, your body blissed out, wrecked from the stretch, from the sheer, impossibly full feeling of him seated so deep inside you, from the unrelenting weight of him pressing you down.

Then he pulled back.

And slammed home again.

Your head hit the wall, a strangled moan punching out of you as the pressure built, his hand still wrapped tight around your throat, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, keeping you open and helpless and fucking ruined beneath him.

Ben was ruthless.

The hand not wrapped around your throat dropped, his fingers sliding down, knuckles dragging over the plane of your stomach, the sweaty dip of your navel—before they pressed, rubbed, circled your aching clit just right as he kept slamming into you, rough and unrelenting, shoving you higher, higher, higher—

And then he laughed. Low, dark, mean as all fucking hell.

"What happened, sweetheart?" He rasped, his breath hot against your jaw, grinning as your back arched. "Ain't you supposed to be some big, bad feminist? All that moral high ground, all that virtue-signalling bullshit—" he gave a brutal, punishing thrust, making you gasp, your hands scrambling against his shoulders—"melting right the fuck outta your pretty head now, ain't it?"

You shook, legs trembling, your body betraying you, the heat coiling tight and hot and fucking unbearable.

"C'mon, use that big mouth of yours." His fingers rubbed harder, faster, pushing you closer to the edge, his cock hitting deep, hitting perfect with every driving snap of his hips. "Tell me how much you fuckin' hate me, sweetheart. Tell me how I'm a misogynistic piece of shit while you're soakin' my cock."

Your breath hitched, a sharp, wrecked whimper slipping from your lips.

His smirk deepened.

"That's what I fuckin' thought."

He was so fucking smug. So fucking cocky. He was growling into your skin, sneering at your unraveling, at the way your nails bit into his skin, at the way you tightened around him, nearly choking his cock, your thighs clenching, your entire body locking up—

And then you cried out, pleasure ripping through you, your body shaking, spasming, your orgasm hitting so fucking hard it knocked the breath out of you.

Ben groaned, biting hard against your collarbone, his tongue lapping over the mark immediately after. "Yeah, that's it," he gritted out, his cock still pounding into you, working you through it, keeping you locked down, shaking, helpless. "All you fuckin’ needed was a good, hard fuck to get that attitude outta you, huh?"

Your mind barely processed it—not when he was licking and sucking, his mouth everywhere, his teeth scraping rough along your throat, biting at your face, dragging his tongue over your cheek before kissing you filthy and deep—

And then—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The washing machine. Your shirt was done.

Ben stilled for a half-second. Then he fucking laughed.

The second his laughter faded, he was right back at it—pounding into you, all force and greed, using your wrecked, overstimulated body to chase his own high, the smug, cocky bastard making sure you felt it.

His hand dug into your hip, his grip on your throat tightened, pulling you into every brutal thrust, forcing you to take him, take it, take all of it.

“You better hurry up, sweetheart,” he mocked, voice raspy, strained, dragging his teeth along your jaw, pressing a wet, biting kiss just beneath your ear. “You wanna come again, you better fuckin’ keep up.”

His fingers found your clit again, but his movements were deliberate, lazy, cruel—not giving you enough, not letting you have it until he wanted you to.

“Such a good little fuckdoll,” he groaned, his lips brushing against your damp, overheated skin. “So fuckin’ sweet when you’re just takin’ it, huh? That’s what you needed. Just needed to get fucked stupid, yeah?”

You whined, barely coherent, barely able to even snap back at him.

Ben groaned, tension knotting in his stomach, his pace turning desperate, erratic.

“Where d’you want it, sweetheart?” He rasped, voice thick and hungry, hips snapping into you harder. “Inside you? All fuckin’ deep, fillin’ you up, yeah?”

Your brain kicked back online real fucking fast.

“Under no circumstances can you fucking come inside me.”

Ben snarled, gritting his teeth as his pace stuttered, his grip tightening in irritation.

“No fuckin’ fun.” His sneer was vicious. “Fine. You want it on your fuckin’ face, then?”

Before you could even breathe, his grip on your throat yanked you forward, pulling you off the washing machine. Your knees hit the floor, legs still shaking, useless, your mind still spinning as he fisted his cock, his other hand gripping your hair, holding you right in place.

“Fuck, sweetheart—"

With a low, guttural groan, he spilled across your face, his breath ragged, loud, unrestrained, groaning deep and shameless, his entire body tensing as he pumped himself dry, streaking hot, thick ropes over your cheeks, lips, chin.

And then—

"Oh, for fuck’s sake."

Your blood turned to ice. Your entire body locked up.

"Pair of fuckin' animals."

You whipped your head toward the door—and there stood Butcher. One hand on his hip, the other rubbing his temples, shaking his head like he'd just walked in on two stray dogs humping on the sidewalk.

And then?

He turned and walked right the fuck back out.

Mortification. Pure, searing, full-body mortification. You were still on your knees, still panting, wrecked, still covered in Ben’s cum.

And when you turned back?

Oh, he was grinning. That shit-eating, cocky, bastard grin.

Your stomach sank. Because in one hand, Ben was holding—your shirt.

Your freshly washed, still-warm shirt that he’d clearly grabbed right out of the machine while you’d been frozen in horror, looking at Butcher.

And now? Now he was wiping himself off with it. Casual. Smug. Completely unbothered. Once he was done, he tossed it at your face.

“Go on, sweetheart.” His smirk was lethal. “Get cleaned up.”

@mostlymarvelgirl @lunaleah @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @itshellfire @nevercameraready @suckitands33 <3

[adoringaffliction]

Dinner time

any male!character x afab!reader

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), reader wears brandy melville, petnames, domestic fluffy smut, overstimulation (*moans loudly), overall just cutesy male yearning 

Summary: reader's significant other comes home from work and mentions a kind of hunger that can't be satiated with food per say…

MDNI +18

“These are cute.” he says as he snaps the waistband of her cotton pajama shorts.

“They’re new,” she looks up from what she’s reading. “How was today?” She sets down the book to look up at him, folding her legs to the side of her on their sofa to make room for him.

He sits down and leans back, decompressing,”Fine. Boring, just did paperwork. Nobody allowed me to do anything fun.” He pouts.

“Sad boy,”she reaches out to tousle his hair threading it through her manicured fingers.

“So sad,” he repeats, leaning into her now. She shifts to lay on her back and he follows suit resting the back of his head on her stomach.

She smiles and plays with his hair,”What do you want for dinner?”

Although his eyes are closed he can hear the smile in her voice as he smirks,”You.”

“C/n.”

He flips around to face her, resting his chin near her navel,”What?”

“Be serious,” she says, looking unamused.

He toys with the waistband of her shorts for the second time tonight. He looks up at her with brown puppy dog eyes as he slowly drags the fabric down her hips,”Who says I wasn’t serious.”

Her breathing hitches as he finally pulls the shorts off and away. He marvels at the sight of her white underwear, lace trimmed with a small bow sewn onto the middle of the waistline. “And where did these come from?” he asks smiling.

Breathlessly she answers,”Brandy, they came in yesterday with the shorts.”

“I don’t know who this Brandy is, but I’ll send them a thank-you letter,” he takes the edge of the panties between his teeth and slowly starts to tug them down.

“You don’t have to-,” she says, but he continues to glide the pair of underwear down her legs. Once at her ankles she tries to kick them off.

“I know honey, I want to,” he ends her struggle by taking them and stuffing them into his pants pocket.

“Wait don’t steal them- I just got those-,” she whines.

He smirks,”Finders keepers, besides, you know I’ll buy you the whole damn store.” He looks down and sighs,”Good god woman.” He looks back up at her face,”You’re going to be the death of me.” He watches as her face heats up and he smiles,”I’m gonna make you feel so good, is that alright with you sweet girl?”

He watches as she nods quickly before leaning down to lick a long broad stripe over her core, all while maintaining eye contact. She lets out a soft mewl and shuts her eyes on impulse. He pulls his face away and taps her thigh,”Uh-uh I need you to look at me sweetheart, look at me or I stop, got it.” Her eyes snap open and she nods. “Good Girl.” He dives back in tracing her arousal around her entrance and back up to her clit. She watches with her mouth hung open, soft gasps and whines falling out every so often. He makes good routine of this, waiting for her to gasp and attacking those parts ruthlessly.

“Taste so good sweet girl,”he says, his voice garbled and muffled by her pussy. He wraps his lips around her clit and softly suctions it into his mouth.

Her hips cant up and a strangled moan is let free,”Ah- fuck-!”

He smiles and continues looking into her eyes and watching as her face contorts in pleasure. Her eyes remain fixed on him. “So obedient,” he thinks as he sucks harder

He begins to take his fingers and probes her entrance lightly, looking for any sign in her face that she might want him to stop. Finding none he slowly pushes a finger inside and she gasps. He retracts the finger and slips it back inside finding little to no resistance. He watches as her eyebrows kiss each other when he curls it against her front wall, brushing the spot inside her that makes her see stars.

“Baby please- wanna cum,” she cries, eyes searching for permission in his desperately.

“I know sweet girl, I know,” he quickens the pace of his finger and sucks onto her clit. A high pitched cry sounds off from her as he feels her pussy spasming around his finger. “Good fucking girl, you gonna come for me?”

“Yes- please- fuck~,” her moan cuts her off as she comes, rutting her hips into his face and hands. Little “ah”s fill the air as she comes down, but he doesn’t let up.

She whines in over-stimulation,”Please- can’t-”

“You can, I know you can honey.” He speeds up his movements once more as she cries. Tears start to prick at her lash-line,”Come on sweet girl, just one more, you can take it.”

“Ngh- I- fuck!”

“You gonna come for me again sweetheart?” She nods in response but that’s not good enough for him. “Say it y/n, say you’re gonna come for me again.”

“Fuck baby- shit~ I’m gonna come for you- ah~ gonna come-,” she arches her back off the couch and releases a pornographic moan as she comes for the second time.

“That’s it.” He works her through it,”Good girl…” He pulls away as she whines this time, arousal dripping from his chin as he climbs up over top of her. He brushes away the sweat drenched baby-hairs that surround her face and smiles,”You did so good sweetheart.”

She hums in response and he laughs,”Wore you out did I?”

“Shut up,” she groans.

“Hey that’s no way to talk to your sweet boyfriend who just made you come twice in a row.”

She groans and shuts her eyes.

“What do you want for dinner angel? I’m not that hungry,” He smirks. God he was gonna be the death of her.

[lymtw]

Suggestive

Gojo x f!reader

Description:

Gojo being the frustrating man that he can be, constantly pushing your buttons. In the end, he really just wants to be around you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Gojo just being mad annoying, trapping you against the wall when you’re frenzied over everything that needs to get done within the last 4 hours of your day. He has both hands on either side of your head, against the wall.

“‘Toru,” you say, hoping he’ll find the sign for him to move in your tone.

He doesn’t. Instead he just tilts his head, and mumbles a little “hm?”

“Please move.”

“Move me. I won’t put any effort to trying to stay grounded. All you have to do is push-“

You shove your palm into his ribs, not too hard, but enough for him to react quickly in order to stay in front of you.

“You said you weren’t gonna try.”

“I wasn’t ready. Now you can push me.”

It’s harder to move him this time. You know he’s putting some effort into staying in place.

You sigh, not yet defeated, but a tad bit frustrated. “Why are you doing this? It’s the one day out of the whole week that I choose to organize the house and you’re making it difficult. You know Thursday is a cleaning day.”

“I’m not doing anything. Like I said, you can push me aside.” He grins like the menace he is. His response makes your heart race in your frustrated state.

You don’t move, instead begin to stare past him in protest of the attention he’s feeding off of. So he steps closer, his abdomen against yours. Your hands fly up to his chest, maintaining the smallest amount of distance. He looks down at you, this wanting look in his eyes.

“No, no, no. Stop. Save those eyes for the chocolate bar that’s in the freezer.”

“Baby…” he coos.

Ah shit. You mentally curse yourself for how weak you get when he uses that tone with you.

“Satoru, don’t.”

“Baby, just come with me.” His mouth lowers down to your neck, where he places featherlight kisses. He goes up the side of your neck until he reaches your ear where he whispers things to you. Things that make your heart race, and the space between your thighs grow needy. “I miss the sound of your voice.”

You’re breaking. You shake your head in denial, and he lets out a chuckle through his nose.

“I miss your pretty skin against mine.” His hands snake beneath your shirt and settle on your waist. “It’s always good. You know it. I know it.”

The way his voice went down an entire octave to say that flustered you. You started giggling nervously.

“I know I’m tempting you. Just let me put the stars in your eyes again, mama. You’ve done enough cleaning.” His thumbs leave a ticklish feeling behind where they press on your sides.

“You’re killing me.”

“I want you to come with me.” There was an emphasis on the word ‘come’—something he didn’t think you would catch.

“S-Stop. I need to… fold…”

“Yeah, looks like you’re folding already.” He grabs your hand. “It’s okay, princess. Let me help you decompress.”

“But-”

“Ah.”

“I-”

“Mm-mm.”

He won. You let him take you to the room, and he made you forget all about that basket of clothes you needed to fold.

[emeraldserenade]

Late Night Meeting ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you only seemed to run into Joaquín at night in the kitchen

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, reader has a RBF, annoying person named Clare (sorry if your name is Clare), barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Whoopsie, I kinda went MIA for a while because I had to drive back home and then I was just decompressing from my trip (there were bed bugs in my hotel and I've been miserable). Anyway, I'm back! My trip to see my friends was great AND I got the email last week that I passed my final chem exam! Anyway, now that I am back I will be focusing on finishing my requests but for the time being I hope you enjoy this.

A special shoutout to @sidkneeeee for wishing me luck on my final! Thank you for always reading, liking, and reblogging my stories as well as your kind words, they are very much appreciated and help me keep my motivation for writing.

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You moved into the compound after being recruited for the new Avengers. You had met the only other two here, Sam Wilson and Joaquín Torres. You smiled and shook their hands and expected to be treated the same way you always where. Like you would explode the world if someone even looked at you wrong. You knew you looked intimidating and that you would bite the head off anyone who wronged you. But it wasn't your fault that you have a resting bitch face.

You noticed something peculiar though, while both Sam and Joaquín would treat you like a normal person. You only ever seemed to see Sam around, Joaquín was always off doing something else or you just never heard anything about him. You just guessed that he was scared of you and what you could do, so you thought nothing of it. Until you wandered into the kitchen late one night to find him standing in front of a pot on the stove.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were in here," you muttered and moved to the fridge. You wanted the rest smoothie your smoothie rom earlier.

"Nah, you're good," Joaquín told you, flashing you a smile. You gave him one back and second guessed why he was never around. He didn't seem scared of you but he was also never around. You decided to put it to rest and head back to bed, your smoothie in hand and Joaquín watching you leave.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

After that meeting you seemed to run into him almost every night in the kitchen. You had the bad habit of always needing to drink something before bed and brushing your teeth. You would have to guess that it stemmed from your mom having you drink a glass of water every night before bed. And Joaquín seemed to always be snacking when you walked in.

"What are you snacking on today?" You questioned him, you two had started talking each night.

"I cut up an apple," he hummed and you watched him take a bite.

"Ah, nice," you replied and you two feel into a silence. Not an uncomfortable one, just a silence. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," Joaquín answered and you took a deep breath.

"Why do you avoid me during the day?" You rushed out but before he could answer, one of the newer recruits walked in. She had only joined a few days ago but she was all over Joaquín when possible.

"Joaquín! There you are!" She practically shrieked and you cringed at her volume. You didn't like her but sucked it up because Sam said she was needed for the team. You took her arrival as reason to leave and downed the rest of your drink before leaving. You shot Joaquín a quick smile, ignoring the glare from the girl, and headed down the hallway.

"What was that yell?" Sam groggily asked from his door when you passed.

"Newbie got real excited when she saw Joaquín," you informed him.

"She has a name," Sam mumbled.

"Eh, don't care at the moment," you gently kicked the ground in annoyance.

"Have a good night, y/n," Sam bid you a good night.

"You too, Sam," you waved gently and started heading down the hall to your room again.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

It was a few weeks in the kitchen without Joaquín, you had to guess that he was spending his nights with the newbie. You had resigned to the fact that you would be alone at night when Joaquín finally showed in the kitchen again.

"Is Clare here?" He looked around frantically and shook your head.

"No, why?" You tilted your head a little at the sigh of relief that he released.

"I've been trying to avoid her for weeks, it's why I haven't been here," he explained and you made a shocked face.

"Joaquín!" You heard the newbie say from the hallway and took his arm, grabbing an apple for him on the way out with your free hand. You dragged him to the closest room, his. You shoved him in the door and he pulled you along with him. You only then realized you forgot your drink, but before you had time to be sad, Joaquín handed it to you.

"I only avoid you during the day because I know if I saw you in daylight, I'd fall irrevocably in love with you," Joaquín told you and you gently gasped while handing him the apple.

"Huh?" You cursed yourself for not being more poetic.

"You asked me a few weeks ago why I avoid you during the day, it's because I know if I were to see you in the daylight. Your face lit and warmed by the sun while you smile and laugh with Sam over some joke, I'd fall in love with you," Joaquín reiterated and you stared at him, the straw of your drink stuck to your bottom lip.

"I'm in love with you," you blurted out and slapped a hand over your mouth in shock. "Wait, that-" Joaquín cut you off by removing your drink from your hand, the straw from where it was attached, kissing you. You melted into it and let out a content sigh.

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Masterlist | Requests

[mscherub]

Clinging for (Emotional) Support

Prefect needs a bit of a break after a stressful day, so they seek out their favorite person...

Reader is gender neutral, referred to as Prefect or Y/N

Warnings!:

These are just my headcanons!

Light swearing (I just put this as a warning on everything cause I absentmindedly do it…)

Tags: Fluff, romantic or platonic (perceive it whichever way you'd like to), hugs and cuddles, comfort

Heartslabyul; Savanaclaw; Octavinelle, Scarabia; Pomefiore; Ignihyde; Diasomnia (you’re here :3)

Intro:

You’ve had a bad day, well, a worse one than usual, and you feel like you’re on the verge of crashing out. So, you go to one of your favorite people and you cling to them for some emotional support, not doing anything else besides holding on for dear life and nuzzling your face into their chest or shoulder, not providing one bit of information as to why you’re even doing this. But, don’t worry, they care for you a lot, maybe more so than they let on <3

Kalim ☀️:

Heyyyy! Look, one of his favorite people are coming to him and…wait, you don’t seem like yourself here. Now, Kalim is no stranger in having to cheer people up, he has like over 30 younger siblings so I bet he’s done it multiple times

Yes, yes, he is ignorant to most things, not being able to take a hint or know when to say stuff or when not to say stuff, but you’re coming to him looking all distressed, so he can at least acknowledge that

He’ll wrap his arms back around you and your mood will affect his. He’s not smiling again until you smile

“Prefect…what’s wrong? Why aren’t you smiling? Cmon…your smile is pretty like the sun! Bright and warm!”

He’ll try his best, hugging you right back and continuing to question what’s wrong, he’ll go as far as trying to buy you stuff

Please stop him

Like actually stop him, it’ll also save Jamil in the process from having to add more shit to the treasury…

“Mmmm…I’ll hug you as long as you need, just smile again. Be happy. You know you can always talk to me. I may not know what to do or say exactly, but I’ll do everything to make you happy again.”

Jamil 🐍:

He doesn’t have that much free time, you know him, so when you come to him with that defeated expression on your face, and then continue to just glue yourself to him, he’s confused and a little baffled. He has shit to do and yet here you are…

He’s used to taking care of his own problems, so excuse him for thinking you’re helpless in the moment :)

He does care, he truly does, but he shows it in his own special way

“Ah…what’s wrong? I can’t have you clinging to me like this, Prefect…I have things to do, please…”

He’s not the type to cuddle, but like some of the other guys, talk to him if you feel like it, and just as long as he can shake you off in a few minutes so he can go back to doing whatever, then it’ll be good for both sides

“You can always talk to me, I’m not against the idea. Just know I may not give the advice you’d want to hear, more so the advice you’d need to hear…sorry, share what’s on your mind, I guess I have a few minutes…”

Vil 🪞:

Lifts his arms away from you quickly and he looks at you with a baffled gaze

Again with being busy, he’s like always busy, and he has an image to keep up, but I guess you don’t really care about that right now, clearly. He’ll humor you for now, but no longer than a few more seconds or he’ll push you off…but, oh…

Alright then, this is…new from you, you’re constricting grip around his waist, but it’s obvious you’re not exactly how you usually are so he’ll pry and get to know what’s going on

“Spudling…what’s the meaning of this? I’m genuinely asking, not to be rude. Do speak about why you’re doing this…”

His arms will eventually rest around you, he’s not that mean y’all. His embrace is elegant and considerably grounding, like he knows exactly the type of comfort you needed at the moment

He’ll try and get you to talk about it as well, it’s a betterment to the mind to talk about problems, and to help the mind fully decompress from stress

“Sweet potato…I have a few minutes to spare, so let’s talk about whatever the matter is with you. I listen well and I can provide suitable advice if that’s what you’re looking for. Smile again, a joyful and happy smile can instantly turn anyways day around…”

Rook 🏹:

Ah? Trickster coming to say hello? Or not…he’ll be surprised but he won’t push you away. This is a beautiful way of expressing gratitude for someone so he’s all in. It’s quite beautiful how expressive and up front you are with your affection!

Then he’ll notice you’re not ok (pretend to notice, he knew the whole time…he kinda seen how your day went…don’t ask questions about how he knows :3) and he’ll wrap his arms back around you

Be ready for a damn mantra on this little display your putting on

“What’s this? Mon Trickster, what is with that look? Ne regarde pas si bas…lighten up!”

Talk to him about it, he does grand gestures and words, so he’ll stay with you until you let go first. Just know he’ll always have open arms for you whenever you’re feeling down

“As a hunter I just be accustomed to the emotions of others…they are de toute beauté! You are no exception, Trickster, for your smiles is as radiant as the sun at its highest peak when you are at your best! My arms are forever open if you shall need assistance, you are simply beautiful when happy.”

Epel 🍎:

You spoked him a bit, also, ew, get off of him…or wait, he might not mind it, cause like, he’s being relied on for once, and it’s you that’s doing it so, he’ll let it slide, especially cause you don’t look to hot at the moment

He can help, always, you know him, duh! So what’s up then? If he can read the situation right, you look pretty stressed so there’s that

“Hey! What’re you doin!? Erm, sorry I didn’t…you ok? No? Aright then, what’s s’matter with ya, you’re clinging awfully tight…”

With a small grumble he’ll hug you back, but very lightly, like he’s embarrassed almost, and he is, but he’s helping you out so…he guesses it’s ok

Talk about something to make it less awkward for him. He’s a good listener but he’ll probably just respond with a few hums or nods here and there

He means well

“So…I just wanna know what holding on does…you could talk with abaut things— aye! Ok, don’t gotta squeeze tighter, calm on down…yeesh, but, hey…it’ll be ok, like I said, you can always rely on me! I ain’t strong for nothing!”

Idia 🎮:

If yall expect me to be nice…

Screams, then goes quiet

He wishes he can shrivel up cause like what the hell are you doing? And more importantly, how’d you get in his room? Did ortho let you in? He had to have a talk with him…

He’s already kinda scared and he just watches as you hug him tighter like he’s not just sitting here basically dying now out of embarrassment, thanks, Prefect

“AHHHH! Prefect! What are you! Hey!!!!

But you do kinda seem stressed, and he does the same with like his pillow or what not when he’s not feeling 100%, so he gets it in a way

Just don’t make it any more awkward than it needs to be. You can ramble to him but he might not answer back that much or try and help, probably on his phone or PC…maybe if he gets comfortable enough he’ll absentmindedly rest his arms around you

“I don’t know why you chose me…but I dunno…what do people say? It’ll be ok? Yea…it’ll be ok…I guess. Don’t surprise me again like this…heh heh.”

Ortho (Strictly Platonic) 🤖:

Hiya! You’re hugging him, how sweet! He’ll giggle and hug you back, and he’ll also do a little scan because his sensors detected an unbalance in hormones specifically targeted towards stress levels…

Now he’s a bit worried due to the data he got off you, so he’ll get your input

“Prefect! What’s wrong? My scans show an imbalance…are you stressed? What happened?”

Now he’s searching up what he can do to make you feel better, he’s got a lot of answers now so he’s gonna do his best to make his friend better!

“It says here that if you discuss what’s really bugging you it can help to lower levels of stress! Also we can try other methods if you’d like!”

Malleus 🐉:

Hmmm? What’s this? Quite peculiar of you, and it’s you so he’s ok with it, anyone else most likely wouldn’t have even gotten the chance…just be lucky Sebek isn’t around

He’s just intrigued in general, it’s interesting you’re doing this, truly! He can’t really tell the difference in your emotions, just confused as to why your clinging to him, though he’ll finally question it when you won’t let go

“Child of man? What is the meaning behind this? I’m not mad, no, just curious as to why you’ve come to me. Is something the matter that you need me to help?”

He’ll wrap his arms back around you, of course, just tell him what’s going on or he’ll start to assume things and maybe the weather will start to look a bit dreary due to that…

He has all the time in the world for you, stay with him as long as you need, and if you need any further support, he’s here to provide only the best for you

You are important, after all

“What emotions are being rather troublesome for you today, Child of man? I only wish to know so I can properly define what happens to plague you with this negative onset…do pray tell, for if you are to be happy again, everyone shall be in rather high spirits. I know for certain if your mood is sullied then it indirectly affects mine…smile, Child of man.”

Lilia 🧚‍♀️:

The younger generations just seem to be getting more and more bold with each passing day apparently! How cute of you to be doing this, you can’t possibly try to be out-cuteing him…oh, no, you’re actually not

Well…he’s gonna put on his parental side here, he knows what to do, kinda, even if his methods may be a little unorthodox but, hey, thought that counts?

“My, my! Oh, what’s wrong, hmmmm? Might I add you’re absolutely adorable at the moment? Share with me your problems, deary…”

Hugs you back tight, and his hugs don’t feel fleeting, they feel nice and warm, like home almost

If you don’t talk about what’s going on, he’ll assume you don’t want to, so he’ll improvise and start telling stories of the past, a distraction method. If you give him the chance he’ll rant for a bit, but if it helps clear your mind up and take it off of whatever is bothering you, then that’s the intended effect

“Back when I was a lad, my mother used to sing songs to me when I was feeling down…I do sing rather well, but I feel stories are more appropriate for the moment— oh, speaking of stories, a hundred or some years ago a bard traveled though and shared some interesting stories, Malleus was so little back then, no more than 17 I could guess…how time flies! Oh, speaking of time—“

Silver ⚔️:

He’s caught off guard at first. He has to take a moment to actually process what’s going on before he can even respond

He’s confused still, even after noting how tightly you’re holding on, well now he’s a bit concerned cause what is this for? Are you hurt? Is someone coming after you? Are you being stalked? His mind kinda instantly goes to those scenarios…he’ll obviously ask what’s going up

“Prefect? What’s…going on? Are you in danger at all— ok, no…then what’s the…I don’t get it.”

He’ll hug you back, albeit still judging the entire situation, but he’s got you

He won’t really say much, but he’ll listen. Just try and talk about what’s going on because this is kinda nice for him…damn, he’s feeling a bit sleepy now, he’ll just close his eyes and listen—

“Mmm…mhmmm, I see…you can come to me if you’d ever need help…so…yea…just come to me…this is nice…”

Sebek ⚡️:

Bro let’s out a loud yelp and tries to get away from you, he’ll start spouting nonsense about how this isn’t acceptable behavior from you, ignoring why you’re actually “bugging” him in the first place. He doesn’t really care at first…

After you won’t give up with your ministrations of holding on, he’ll give up on trying to get rid of you

Just like Silver, he’ll suspect the reason for you doing this is because you’re in some danger of sorts because you definitely don’t normally do this…

“Human! What is this! Human! Unhand me this instant! I— …are you in danger perhaps? Where is the threat? I shall protect you.”

There’s no threat so he’s even more confused, tell him, though he still might not understand the reason for clinging to him

He’s more so a man of his words, so discuss the subject of your mental health and he could possibly help

He’s…always here for you, so don’t worry. Any close friends of Malleus are important, and that’s totally the only reason he cares, definitely not click bait, yea no

“Human…are topics on your mind troubling you? Speak freely about them, I don’t mind one bit. Mental health is just as important as physical health, and in due time if you share these bothersome thoughts I can guarantee you’ll be in better shape again…”

That’s it? I hope so…I kinda like…gave up, SORRY I LOVE POSTING FOR Y’ALL BUT ITS LIKE I HAVE MOTIVATION FOR LIKE AN HOUR AND IM LIKE “nah, I don’t wanna do this,” THEN I FORCE MYSELF…I’m ok yall <3

Thanks for reading this hot mess either way

(Also does anybody else struggle to write for Silver or is that like a me thing cause I suck, so I apologize!)

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[ladyelissarose]

‘Stop Thinking!’

Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader

Warnings; 4K!!! NSFW, smut. Very fluffy- Like fluffy overload. Soft Miguel. I feel like he would be such a soft and sweet person while off-work. (Like look at how sweet he was with Gabriella) anyways. Enjoy y’all!


Author’s note: so this is my first time writing smut. I have no experience in this area of writing. But I wanted to try something new for y’all. So far I’ve been learning from all the amazing smut fics I’ve read. (There are some great ones out there!!) So please, I’m willing to take some word from y’all if y’all like or see something that is fixable! Likes and reblogs are much appreciated- much love y’all! message me if you’ll like to mention something in private;)




“Oh!- Miguelll. Ah! That’s tickles.”


You let out a soft giggle as Miguel laid on top of you in bed, at your shared apartment, kissing your soft stomach wherever he pleased. You both decided to take the day off, (more like you pushed him to finally agree because you saw how exhausted he was) after being stressed out and running on 24 back to back shifts all to protect the spider-universes.

Jess and Peter B. had it in their control, along with LEGO Spider-Man too, (Miguel actually trusted that poor LEGO and seemed more at peace with him along with the others than not.) Anyways, while a very attention deprived Miguel tried to shower you in his once all pent up love and touch, you were too busy still thinking and being busy.


“I wonder if Hobie is going to pull a funny prank once you get back, he hates your guts yet can never leave your lair area.”


Miguel mumbled incoherent words as his lips kissed every part of your soft tummy, your shirt now scrunched up to your neck. You were in simple panties while Miguel rested in his boxers, choosing to have less clothing between the two. You felt Miguel all over you, relaxing in his touch but thought a little more before adding,


“Baby can I babysit MayDay one day? So Peter B and you can work better together and he’s not very distracted?”

This time he let out a groan which you considered a ‘yes’.


“Oh yay!”

To that he softly bit your tummy, to which you let out a soft squeak but nonetheless put forth,

“Or maybe I’ll go on a mission with all the teens, they all seem pretty fun, especially Miles and Pavtir. Gwen gives me ‘mommers’ energy, I’ll invite her to the mall instead. ohhhh.”


 He had just left a super wet kiss in between your breasts after giving attention to them, but he replied,
“Hmm hmm amor.”
Miguel loved to hear you talk, it was no doubt that hearing your voice made his day better (especially when certain spiderlings gave him a hard time.)

But right now, he didn’t want to hear that, he just wanted to hear your soft sighs, those little hitched breaths when he kissed a certain spot. Although more than any of those, it was the whimpers and pleading cried you made for him, along with the sweet moans that were addicting and music to his ears.

Buuuuuut, you wouldn’t god damn shut up. Your mind was working to fast instead of slowing down.
“Hey Miguel, when do you think Jess will have her bab-“

Ok, he has had it, pushing his hair back with one hand he lifted up off of your for a second before stressing out his desperation,


“Por Dios amor, can you shut the hell up for one minute?”

Silence filed the room instantly, you snapped out of your chatty self and saw Miguel’s warm brown eyes hold a yearning in them, and he was breathing hard yet letting in and out slowly. You felt bad for being selfish much, and for not being able to decompress for him.

“I’m sorry Miguel.”

A pout fell on your lips which he kissed away instantly,
“It’s ok amor... I’m not mad. Just... relax.”

You nodded and he then kissed you, feeling that you might give in already, but you began to make excuses against his lips. Mumbling the words against him as he had refused to separate from your lips,
“-ut Migg-“

He pulled away with a huff and held up a very serious finger to your lips gently,
“Don’t ‘But Miggy’ me. Miguel, your boyfriend is telling you to shut up and let me love you. No more work, or nothing. All I want to hear from those pretty lips is moans and my name. Es todo, y nada mas.”


A little snicker passed your lips as you then exaggerated with heavy pants,
 “Oh yeah! Yes please! Ohh- AH MIGUELLL! Oh- fuck!!”


Miguel let out a delicious chuckle with a smirk, groaning lowly as he seated himself deep inside you, relishing in the fact of how you squeezed him so perfectly, hitting all the right spots for him. You were left breath and wordless, as his sudden act caught you off guard and now shut up. You let out a shaky breath and a small moan, trying to suppress it as he pressed in harder and held his place as he whispered to your ear,


“Wanna be quiet now? Thought you wanted to be loud? Hm queirda?”


Teasingly he dragged his fangs across your neck, placing feather light kisses behind the wet trails he left. You squeezed his broad shoulders tightly and in that moment you tried to admire his stealth and magnificence above you, but your mind went racing, and you lost yourself in his eyes as you once again went into thinking,
‘How’d his big size fit in so quickly and unexpectedly-‘


“Amor. Are you ok with this- I’m sorry if I-“

Miguel had the guiltiest frown and started to pull away, and you felt as if your air was being taken from you. How could he think he was in the wrong for absolutely praising and pleasuring you?

With grabby hands you pulled him flush against your chest as you pleaded,

“No no no! You’re ok baby, I swear.”


 His brow picked up a bit as he then asked curiously, showing how much he actually cared about ‘you’ over everything, even while still balls deep inside you,
“Then what’s wrong amor? Hm?”


His homey brown eyes bore only yours as you calmed him,
“Sorry, I was just.. lost in thought.”


 His frown was long gone as he pursed his thick lips and couldn’t help but tsk,
“You still have a question do you?”


Your cheeks burned bright red as you slowly nodded and whimpered,

“yes.”

He propped himself on his elbows to not crush you as he then threatened with a kiss to your nose,
“You have one last question to ask before I rail you until you stop thinking.”


 A breath left your chest in satisfaction as you wiggled a bit, biting down a moan from feeling him swell harder in you, and perfectly ignoring how he bit his lips hard to contain himself. You then raked your hands across his back as you perked,
“How’d you squeeze yourself so easily inside of me? When it usually takes-“

Then you took one of his hands and kissed his knuckles before continuing,
“-your fingers to warm me up?”


 Miguel let out one of his warmest smiles that had a hint of tease in it as he replied,
“Well... you were to busy thinking up here *kiss on your head* instead of thinking down here!-“


And with a quick pull back he slammed himself back into you, causing you to arch into him and this time really moan out,
“Ahhh! Oh Miiiguel.”


“Si? I’m here amor. And you-“

Another deep thrust*

“-were long ready before you even knew it.”

deep thrust*

“Oh go-“

“No amor.. just me.. Miguel. Vamos amor, say my name.”

Lust and pride burned red in his eyes as he looked down at your smaller form under his, adoring every move and sound you made, because of him.

With gentle but hard moves he thrusted into you, being the cause of your short breaths and little whimpers that he was now happy to receive and hear. Arms wrapped around him you pulled yourself up and bit onto his lips, and you left him a sweet kiss before challenging with a sultry voice,


“Make me, Miguel.”


His slower, languid movements suddenly stopped, as he watched you look up at him with a high chin. You let go of his arms and dropped yourself back down, lifting your arms above your head and resting them there. You were sure in a damn mood huh? But it only excited you and brought more to your arousal when he growled,


“Lo hare entonces.”


 Eyes now glowing red, in seconds he had one hand clasped with both of yours, fingers intertwining in a bruising grip, holding them high above your head. With his other hand, he put a soft pressure on your lower stomach, and trailed it up, expanding his fingers to get a whole feel of your skin against his. He stopped his hand right at your throat, his sweet voice betraying his sharp demeanor when he asked- of not pleaded,


“Por favor amor? Do you trust me?”


You sent him a confident smile with a verbal reply, knowing he preferred those for good confirmation,


“Yes love. I trust you.”


Fingers embracing the hold your neck gave him, he squeezed lightly, not wanting to push it too much, but it was just the right amount.

Miguel loved pushing you and trying new things, but he always did it after asking and making sure you were absolutely comfortable. If not he wouldn’t ask twice to do it or make you feel bad about not going with it.

Now your legs found place around his waist, hugging him tightly as he had pulled back and you refused him to go any further out.

But your worries about that were cut short when he began to pour his love out to you with every sharp thrust. Hitting every spot in you had you almost seeing stars, warmth seeped into you from the inside out. Low whimpers escaped his lips all while he made sure loud moans came from yours.

Also, one thing Miguel couldn’t go through this without- was the praise.

“You’re taking me so well amor, eres perfecta. All mine hm?”

A kiss to your lips he added,
“Look at you, hermosa. Tan bueno... look at me.”

You eyes had tried to flutter shut, but at his whimpering plea you couldn’t deny him. Your fucked out eyes looking into his hungry and lustful ones, you both fed off on one another, pleading for more.
 Words were almost not able to get out from how breathless he made you with every thrust. Bit with a certain one that hit you right where it made all the butterflies go all out, you did muster out,
“Y-Yes! Jus’ for you Mig- ah! Please- don’t stop!”

A heavy sigh left your lips as tears prickled in your eyes, the pleasure all too good to keep a straight face. You could feel it all building up, but it felt all too right and perfect to want to finish it and let it go so fast. And you knew Miguel felt the same when he groaned,
“Just a little longer amor, no quiero parar tampoco.”

Your legs pushed him further into you and you dug your heels into his muscled lower back, reaching up to kiss he parted lips.
 Lips then connecting he took your breath away yet provided leverage with his hard pants escaping into you. His muscles rippled under you and you could feel his every movement as he pressed himself impossibly closer to you, not getting enough of your touch or your skin against his.

A light coat of sweat covered you both at the close proximity, but neither gave a damn as you dove into the heat of this moment, embracing into this warmth and heat that was like no other. It was the kind that made you feel safe, known, belonging, cared for, and most of all.. unapologetically loved.

After every other thrust Miguel seemed to be going faster, his hand leaving your neck to use his fingers to rub against your clit, prompting you to reach your high he called his trophy.

Your moans spurred him on as you could feel that familiar and all different warmth of pleasure grow in your lower tummy. You squeezed Miguel’s hand tightly as you pleaded in between moans,
“Ah! Miguel, please.”

With a harsh but quick kiss to your lips Miguel teased,
“Please what? Qué deseas amor?”

He let out a deep groan when your walls tightened around him, making him let out a sweet low moan that was rare to get but you swallowed his every sound desperately like a drug. He smiled with his lips on yours as he asked,
“You close amor? Hm? I can feel- ahhhh.”

You’ve never heard Miguel this vocal before, and you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t triggering something deep in you. Finding him strong in his vulnerability, as he moaned to your words,
“I’m close baby- please! F-Faster!”

Miguel then let go of your hands, and wrapped his arms around you, settling with one hand splayed on your back, and the other gripping your waist tightly, threatening to leave ‘love tattoos’. With a single kiss to you lips Miguel growled,
“Como deseas, aferrate a mi.”


 Your arms grasped tightly onto his broad shoulders, closing whatever gap was left between you two. Your cheek was pressed on his and you held his head against you possessively. 


Miguel put himself onto his knees, and laid you down while clinging onto him for life, as if you were afraid to let him go and lose everything of him. With a reassuring kiss to your head, the fight for your highs became utterly real.

With quick, deep thrusts he began to absolutely rail you, grinding onto your sweet spot with every hit, spurring you on and raising your cries for him.
“Oh Miguel! Ah! Please please- Miguel!!”

He could definitely feel how close you were to an euphoric moment, velvety walls swallowing his length and milking him for what was to come. It only encouraged him to suck up what was left of his adrenaline to sink further in and gift what he could in pleasure.


 Miguel loved you entirely, he’d kill and die for you. You had given him your heart and knew he wouldn’t screw up again, and if he did, he swore with his heart and life that he’d pay for it. In return he had finally given his to you, once he saw and knew you’d do the absolute same for him, if not more.

His life was harsh and more than occupied, he wore a mean facade 99% of the time so he wouldn’t be stepped on, but with you, he could be 100% himself, and this is who he was. A loving, self-sacrificing man, who was vulnerable and healing by giving his all to you. Showing his love endlessly by making himself yours and you his. 
 Feeling himself coming to close to his release, he let go of your waist and trailed his hand to your clit, using his fingers to press down harsh and tight circles that have you curling your toes.
“Vamos amor, come baby I’m right with you. I’m h-here.”


 His words cut short when you finally let go at his command, gushing on him as you let out a deep cry of his name and ‘I love you’s’. 
 Miguel embraced you close as he let go right after you, panting and kissing your neck as he let his cum paint inside of you, marking you once again as his. With a couple last deep thrusts, he finally came to a stop and took deep breaths in between heartfelt words.


“I.. I love you amor.. so m-much.”


You responded with a light kiss to his lips and a mumble, feeling the exhaustion slowly take over,
“I love you... more baby.”


 Miguel got up on his elbows, muttering comforting words as he slowly started to pull out, but you whined a bit and held his shoulders, a small but visible pout on your lips. He thought you were very sore after such a long and hard session, but you quickly said,
“Stay inside.. I.. I want you close.”


 Miguel smiled at you sweetly, knowing that he too would love to do the same, but you needed a refreshing bath first. So he bargained and promised,
“Why don’t we take a quick bath, then we can do that, yeah amor?”

You thought for a minute before accepting he was right, the sticky feeling in your legs showing so. The thought of having cool yet warm water embrace your growing sore body, had you ready to get up immediately.


“Ok baby, let me get up to start it-“

“No no no... let me carry you, come on.”


Like the strong man he was, he was able to sweep you up into a bridal style, carrying you gently into the bathroom as you muttered,
“Thank you..”

“Anytime amor. Sit here while I get the stuff ready.”


 He gently placed you on the sink and wrapped you with the sheet you dragged along so you wouldn’t get cold, pressing a kiss to your lips twice, he then went on to prepping your bath. 


Having memorized all the salts and bath bombs you preferred most for soreness and relaxation, Miguel efficiently and quietly placed them all into the warm water, splashing it a bit to make more bubbles (as he knew you secretly loved it passionately) 

 In peace you watched how his back muscles moved so enticingly with every thing he did. They were so big and comforting to touch.

He used his strength to take out big scary guys and protect his multiverses... but he also used them to make your bath perfect, and that thought... did warm your heart and make you fall harder for him as always.

His chiseled chest gleaming in light and in his sweat, brought you back to earth as he walked toward you with a warm smile and soft words,
“Ok mi amor, it’s ready, come on.”


 With one arm he picked you up, only confirming how tough you thought he was, and he gently and carefully placed you both in. His chest against your back he held you close, his hands never leaving your body. 


You two sat in quiet for a bit, relishing in the water and in each other, soon then Miguel asked if you were ok and not hurt at all, you responded with,
“I feel complete with you. I’m perfectly safe and happy baby.”


 With peppering kisses you two helped each other clean up, you too also asking him questions to make sure he was ok as well, and he responded assuringly,
“Never been better. Contigo estoy contento amor.”


 Little after you both were ready to hop out, as the water had cooled down. Drying off with fluffy towels, exchanging shy and loving glances at your exposed bodies made you both giggle a bit and have rosy faces, but you’ve never felt more free and safe. 


Massages were given to your sore legs and back, as Miguel rubbed on some lotion for you. You tried to do the same, but ended up being enthralled by how rock hard his abs were that you got distracted a couple of times.

So you instead helped him back by getting some fresh water and popping some fruit in his mouth, he couldn’t resist but return that favor but also steal fruity kisses. Then you two put out clean sheets, it all felt so romantic yet domestic, and beautiful combination that was so perfect. 
 Now completing his promise, the big, strong, mean and hard Miguel held puppy eyes and crawled on top of your laying form and whispered,
“Can we still...?”

“Yes baby, I haven’t changed my mind. C’mere.”


 He smiled like a dork, as he guided himself into you once again, this time he was soft yet firm, but you both sighed contentedly once he was fully inside.

Half of his weight rested on you, his legs to the side as his face came to hide in your neck, his hand finding place on your head and the other intertwined with yours. You cradled his head and kissed it sweetly,
“Goodnight baby, get some sleep.”


 Your words sounded like he was the only one going to be sleeping. Your voice sounded so alive compared to his, and he could only grumble,
“You better not be thinking. Go to sleep.”

“Miggy-“


 His head lifted to be above you as he worded seriously yet with a tease,
“Go mimis. Please amor. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You lifted a brow and sassed,
“Promising another round sir?”


 Calling ‘sir’ had him smirk and threaten,

“More like rounds. I won’t only make your legs sore but your brain too.”

“Mmmm challenge accepted-“

He sighed a short laugh of disbelief at your still sassiness as he plopped back down into your neck.
“Mimis amor. Now.”

You were going to respond, but a sudden deep yawn came over you, and in seconds you felt extremely exhausted. Eyes closing slowly you worded lastly,
“G’night baby.. love you.”


 Miguel hummed against you, content to hear you passing out as he replied,
“Sweet dreams amor.. love you too.”


 You passed out before he even finished, he felt the deep breaths you took and how your hand went limp on his head. He smiled to himself and got comfortable, before riding his sleeping chariot alongside you.

Spanish Translations;
amor- love
Queirda- dear
Como deseas- as you wish
Es todo, y nada mas- that’s it, and nothing more
Lo hare entonces- I’ll do it then.
Aferrate a mi- Hold onto me
Vamos- come on
Contigo estoy contento- With you I’m happy
Eres perfecta- you’re perfect
Mimis- night-night

[deangirlsstuff67]

Her Biggest Fan Part 3

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Who doesn't love a good fantasy or escape from our normal lives. When Y/N started this online adventre she never dreamed it would land her smack dab in the path of her favorite actor. Is there a chance this fantasy might become reality? And will the reality live up to the fantasy?

Warnings: fluff, talk about divorce, talk about trauma, language, soft Jensen, a little sexual innuendo

Authors Note: Here you go! I love that y’all are loving the hell out of this story. Don’t worry smut is coming !! I wouldn’t leave you guys hanging :) I love Jensen and his family. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only.

Catch up with part two here | Masterlist

—————————————————————————

Jay: So can I ask why you started doing OnlyFans sweetheart?

You’re relaxing on the back deck tonight, watching the horses graze in the west pasture. Today was busy around here. Your kids came home from their dad’s house, you had your friends and their children over for a fire and BBQ. There is nothing that beats a beautiful summer evening hanging with friends.

Now the kids are tucked into bed after video chatting with your ex husband to say good night and you are finally enjoying nothing but the night creatures making noise as you decompress.

Jensen and you have been chatting all day. He’s up here in Canada filming again. I guess that means he can text more often without having his wife asking questions.

The more you talk, the more you two are becoming closer. It’s a surreal feeling considering you’ve never met the man a day in your life.

Me: At first it was for fun honestly. I am single, get bored easily, and needed the extra money anywhere I could get it. I had done it once before when I was still married, that didn’t end up going well in the end. This time around I didn’t have anyone looking over my shoulder or getting jealous constantly about something that didn’t matter in the end so I figured why not. Any side hustle I can start that can make me some extra money to throw at the life I have, I’ll take.

Jay: So the ex didn’t enjoy it?

Me: In the beginning he did. He got all the videos and photos sent to him and he even was in some of them. Helped pick out outfits. That best friend he’s with now, she was doing it with me and that was when they started getting closer and cheating on me. If I had to guess he was afraid I would do what he was already doing to me.

Jay: Ah, so it was his guilt playing with his jealousy. I guess I don’t have much room to talk.

Me: I’m going to say your situation is different. You guys are just staying together for show not so much because one of you is still holding onto hope for the marriage.

Jay: No, I don’t think many people will see it that way of it ever gets out though.

Me: People judge what they don’t know. I have a question?

Jay: Shoot!

Me: Does Danneel know about me?

There’s a long silence between it showing that he read the message and any sort of response. You’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Their marriage might be over, but they were still married to one another, how was that affecting her?

Better yet, what did that mean for you? Was she going to come after you or blame you for something. Or was she completely fine with it? There are a lot of questions now that you know who he is.

You wish you could talk to your best friend about it. Problem is you haven’t told her who Jay turned out to be. It’s not that you think she wouldn’t believe you, more that you don’t want to throw him under the bus. Jensen and you have been developing a good foundation for a deeper connection between you, while you know your best friend wouldn’t say a word, you still feel like you shouldn’t say anything without his consent.

Especially considering who he is and what he’s currently going through. Divorce is rough as hell without some woman running her mouth and it getting out to the world.

Ding.

Jay: Yes, she knows that I’m talking to someone and you make me smile. Like I said it’s complicated. If we are around family or friends we have to act married and happy. That also means I can’t be on my phone texting this beautiful country girl who brightens my day no matter what. However, when it’s just her and I in the house she asks about you. I give general answers and try to keep the personal stuff at bay. Dee actually badly wants to speak with you, she’s asked for your number many times.

Me: I’m sorry what? She wants to talk to me?

Jay: Haha does that sound weird? It’s not I swear. She started to notice a difference in my behaviour when we started getting close and was curious. For a year now Dee actually has had a boyfriend herself. We talk about their relationship once in a while. We never separated on bad terms, but there was a long period where it was just weird to be around each other and having to act in love still kinda sets us on edge. Before I met you, I tried to avoid her as much as possible. Still do but we are slowly working on a friendship again.

Me: No not weird. It's what my ex husband and I try to do as well. His girlfriend happens to get in the way alot and makes it more difficult, we do try our best though, there are days when it's a cage match because she has meddled and we take it out on each other. Nothing is gonna be perfect, but if you can find a way to accept and co parent with minimum conflict, not only does that help your mental health with divorce but it benefits your kids as well.

This conversation is getting deeper than you pictured for tonight. You've noticed that has been happening more and more since he sent the photo last week.

Assuming he feels like a giant weight has been lifted from his shoulders now that he no longer has to hide who he is from you. Being able to be complete honest has a relaxing effect on ones soul in the end.

I'm glad he trusts me enough to be this honest and relaxed with me.

Well you would enjoy a romantic relationship with this man, the solid foundation you have been building through these last few months has been just as amazing if not more so.

Jay: You're pretty smart you know that. I got a million questions for you pretty lady, I can honestly say I've never met someone like you.

Me: I ain't nothing special Jay. Just a single mom who lives on a farm and trying to figure out how to live this life in my new normal.

Jay: You don't give yourself enough credit sweetheart, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.

Me: You're sweet Jay.

-- Incoming FaceTime From Jay --

Oh fuck off right now, seriously.

Reluctantly you answer the call. It's both extremely tempting to see him "in person" per say but also nerve racking as hell. Come on he is Jensen fucking Ackles, even if I have had emotional conversations with him and made him cum over and over again, this is still scarier as fuck.

The call loads and your screen is invade by a beautiful green eyed man standing in the kitchen of his trailer, eating. Smiling at you with his signature childish grin as he waves hello.

Chuckling at the man in front of you, "Hi Jay."

"Hey Darling." He grabs the phone off the counter and moves to the bed, laying down with a grunt.

"Long day I take it?"

"Lots of fight scenes today. I enjoy it, but I'm getting too old for this shit."

You can't stop the laghter that bubbles up from his comment. Jensen gives you his best bitch face, "awe that's so cute, you're trying to look mad."

"So sassy in person ain't ya sweetheart."

"You don't even know the half of it big guy. For the record you aren't old, you're lie whiskey... get betters with age."

"I go down just as smooth too," sending you a flirty wink before softly chuckling.

Fuck me, this man is something else.

"Oh look at you with those one liners. You look exhausted. It's late here, I'm guessing it's late there as well."

Rolling onto his side, "yeah it is. I had an urge to see you in and talk to you instead of texting. Seeing you right now makes losing sleep completely worth it."

"I'm glad you called, however I am saying you are going to bed. No fighting."

Smiling softly he lets out a yawn, "no fighting, good night baby girl. I'll talk withh you tomorrow."

You sign off and head inside to get ready for bed yourself. The new development of this relationship has you floating on cloud 9.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @spnaquakindgdom @nancymcl @tspmoff @lessons-of-red @supershygirl @yvonneeeee @syrma-sensei @neii3n @leigh70 @idontwannabehere78 @foxyjwls007 @kimxwinchester @multiversefanfics @mostlymarvelgirl @chilledbabydoll @senjoritanana @deansimpalababy @impala67rollingthroughtown @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @barnes70stark @maggiegirl17 @justwhisperingfantasies @jamerlynn

[olympiastar]

Anytime | John Munch + Reader

A/N: I’m meant to be studying but I wanted to write instead :-) Hope you like this, fellow Munch enjoyers!

The clock on your nightstand reads 1.35am, you hadn’t gotten one minute of shuteye and your alarm was due to start blaring in only 5 hours time.

Your mind wouldn’t stop running - you were going over a multitude of things. Work, your social life, familial expectations, the lot.

“Ugh..” You groan to yourself as you push your face into your pillow. Trying to sleep for the umpteenth time.

Eventually, after more tossing and turning you decide to just get up - if you ended up feeling exhausted at work, caffeine would have to help you out.

You make your way into your living room - which is thankfully the perfect size, with an equally perfect view of the Queensboro bridge. You sat in your armchair which sits in the corner of the room, and you start to think again.

Work had you, well… worked up.

Every day was getting increasingly busier, and your hands never seem to get a break from writing and typing at your desk. Your boss never seemed to give you, or your coworkers, a damn break. As soon as five o’ clock struck you made your way down the stairs at an athletes pace.

Your work had managed to entangle itself into your home life as well, sometimes you had to take a big stack of files home - which kept you working well into the evening. It was actually a miracle you got to sit in your armchair, even if it was in the middle of the night, as these days it just looks like an untouched piece in a furniture store.

You sighed. You actually felt your heartbeat getting faster and your chest hurting as you thought about work.

The beige telephone was glaring at you from across the room. It sat on a cabinet just to the left of the window, practically begging you to get up and dial…

No.

It’s the middle of the night. He’ll be asleep and you don’t want to wake him…your work was sunshine and rainbows compared to his. He needs his sleep.

A loud sigh escapes your lips as you feel yourself getting up out of the comfy seat and walking over to the phone. Damn it.

You bring the phone to your ear and start dialling your favourite number. His.

Please don’t actually pick up You think, already feeling slightly regretful for even letting the phone ring.

It doesn’t ring for long however…

“Munch” He says, sounding relatively awake considering the time.

“Hi… it’s just me. I know it’s late and I’m really sorry to bother you-” You start, saying all of that in what seemed like one quick breath.

“Hey sweetheart.” He starts, his tone softening slightly, “is everything okay? You’re not bothering me, not at all.”

“This is likely a stupid question for this time of night but, how on earth do you decompress after work?” You ask.

“You’re callin me at 2am to ask how I de-stress after work?” He replies, a clear hint of amusement in his voice.

“It’s just.. your work seems so hard - mentally. How do you relax after seeing that kind of stuff every day?” You sigh gently.

“What’s going on? You having trouble at work?”

“Yes.” You admit, a little sheepishly.

“Ah, now the question makes more sense.” He starts,with a slight chuckle, “talk to me.”

“The deadlines, the amount of work, the amount of clients. It’s crazy and feels like it’s getting worse by the day!” You whisper.

“I know I probably shouldn’t complain but I just… it’s frustrating. My boss makes me feel like shit even if somethings two minutes late.”

“She’s running a tight ship, huh?” He says, and you can tell he’s got that little smirk that you adore on his face.

“Ha, you can say that again.” You reply, a smile easily finding its way to your face. John always knew how to make that happen.

“But seriously, you could’ve told me this sooner. You know you can talk to me whenever.” He says, slightly more seriously.

“I know, I know. I just hate bothering you. Your job is important, and you’re busy. I don’t want to interrupt your free time.” You reply.

“I love hearing you talk, sweetheart, even if it is at 2 o’clock in the morning. What do you say we talk about this properly, in person?” He offers.

“I’d really appreciate that. But maybe at a more appropriate time of day?” You jest.

“Definitely.” He responds instantly.

“I better let you get back to your beauty sleep.” You joke once again, a smile now stuck on your face.

Before he gets a chance to reply with his notorious wit, you talk again. “By the way, thank you, John. I appreciate you more than you know.” You say, your mood now much better than when you first called.

“Anytime.” He exclaims.

[sukunastoy]

The “Businessman”

Pairings: Fem!Reader x Sukuna

Cw/Tw: Violence, mentions of murder, torture, none of this is towards reader though.

WC: 1221

Note: I wrote something similar to this a long time ago, but I can’t find it on here, so I’m redoing it with more detail. 🫶 I might make this into a series at some point.

~Your CEO husband doesn’t like it when someone makes you cry. They’ll never be a problem for you or anyone else ever again.~

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! ✨

You're having a shitty day work, your boss being a complete asshole as usual. It's like he deliberately called you out in front of everyone else for the smallest of errors. Regrettably, you end up leaving early so you can go home and decompress. In other words, take a hot bath and cry. You didn't tell your husband, and you just wanted to sleep and not disturb him while he was at work, managing his own company. You didn't have to work, but you didn't like the idea of being just a stay at home wife with nothing to do. You liked a bit of a challenge, but this job was becoming too much of a stress factor in your life. When your boss wasn't being a complete dick, the work was nice, and you truly enjoyed the company of your coworkers. Talking gossip and having friends to go out on lunch dates with were the main perks of this job. Everyone was starting to get fed up with the boss though, and you often thought about quitting, since you didn't need this job, but you didn't want to give up your individuality.

As you pulled into your driveway, you sighed heavily into the steering wheel. It was barely after 10 am. Much too early to be home, but today was just too much to bear. Sulking inside, you kicked off your shoes and shed most of your clothing on the way to your lavish bathroom. You didn't need to tell Sukuna, your petty problems aren't something you wanted to burden him with.

But of course, your husband has tracking on your phone. And while he's in the middle of a meeting, letting his other associates talk about company improvements, his phone vibrates with your change of location. Glancing to the clock, he realizes, it's too early for you to be home. Not that he cares, you're free to do as you wish, but it was abnormal for his wife to be home so early on a work day. He isn't questioned as he stands and leaves the meeting, others knowing his personal affairs aren't to be pried into. This part of his job can wait. He has his driver make a few stops on the way home before he arrives, and he finds you curled into the large bed beneath the blankets. Feeling the mattress sink in next to you, your eyes flutter open to the gorgeous face looking down to you. Sukuna's warm hand is cupping your cheek gently, his thumb rubbing over the small dried tear streak from your eye. His gaze focused on it momentarily before lifting his eyes to yours.

"Hey, princess." he chuckles and kisses your forehead before placing something soft and velvety against your lips. The familiar scent of a rose filled your senses and you smiled weakly to him.

"Is it already after 5..?" You ask through a small yawn, assuming it was the end of his work day. "Not even close." He chuckles, his large hand rubbing across your hip, caressing you softly.

"Saw you went home. Came to check on my darling."

Ah, that's right. You sometimes forgot your husband knew your every move. Others thought it was severely controlling and an invasion to your privacy, but you honestly didn't care. He had his possessive traits, but you knew he'd never interfere into something innocent unless it was to benefit you. Like now. It was little moments like this you enjoyed. You didn't want to bother him, and he could see your location was heading towards home. So, not like you were straying away to a place he didn't know. But, he chose to come on his own. And the rose and small basket of your favorite treats he had got on the way home made it even more endearing.

"Just having a rough day?" His deep voice spoke against your skin as you now cuddled with him, his warm lips gracing your neck in kisses.

"Yeah, my boss can be such an asshole. I swear, he likes to insult everyone in front of a crowd for no reason. Its so embarrassing and I just wasn't in the mood today for his antics."

"Want me to kill him for you?" His serious sounding response made you laugh while shoving his arm playfully. "Ha, I wish."

Oh sweet innocent thing...your husband would do anything for you. With the money and power he possesses, a simple task as that would be nothing. You may have joked and laughed about a crazy fantasy that many wished upon their shitty bosses, but in your case, it would be taken care of.

This wasn't the first time Sukuna heard you complain about your boss, nor the first time you came home early and had been obviously crying. Sukuna was the endearing CEO husband who you loved and trusted with all your heart. At least, to you he was. To others, he was a terrifying sight, especially if anyone crossed him. Or you.

~~~~~~~~

Sukuna hummed in delight while slipping on a pair of black latex gloves, a slight twitch in his lips, pulling them to a grin across his face.

"If you keep trying to break out of those cuffs, I'm going to bash in your kneecaps." He said nonchalantly to his victim in the chair before him.

"You're fucking crazy! Just let me go man! I didn't do anything to you!"

Sukuna only hummed louder to himself to drown out the pathetic cries of desperation. Again, his victim wrestled with the cuffs, groaning and cussing while trying to slip his hands out of them.

Picking up the sledge hammer that was leaning against his prep table, Sukuna twisted it in his hands briefly, looking at the blunt end of the tool with delight. "Left, or right?" He simply asked, finally looking to the restrained man.

"You're gonna rot in jail for this shit!"

"Left it is."

Taking a step forward, Sukuna swung the sledge hammer swiftly into the mans left knee, and the sickening crunch of bones echoed through the concrete room. It only took one hit to completely destroy the man's knee, and Sukuna laughed in unison with the gargled screams from his victim. The man might eventually pass out from pain, but he'd wake him up again. This wasn't going to be quick and easy. He had too many tools laid out to have his fun for the next several hours. Pulling teeth and prying off fingernails were some of his favorite forms of slow torture.

~~~~~~~~~

Going into work the next day, the news of your boss quitting abruptly with no notice was shocking. You thanked luck, just happy he was finally out of here, and someone more respectable took his place. Perhaps he finally got enough complaints against him. Sukuna would rejoice in the lucky news with you later in the day after he made you an amazing dinner. And when he took you to bed, he made love so passionately to you, his large hands so gentle and tender to your body. You were clueless to his true nature, and he preferred it that way. He took pride in knowing the remains of your old boss were never going to be found. No one was allowed to make his darling cry.

[spookypete-94]

Nightgown (Ghost x Fem!reader)

Been trying to find the urge to get back into the groove of wanting to write and had a short mind blurb I wanted to work on.

SFW, implied smut

"Ah c'mon lass, one pint canna' hurt," Soap tried hard to barter to get you to join them at a local bar near the hotel the TF141 and yourself was staying at.

You had assisted them with a mission working for Laswell, and honestly was exhausted after spending almost a month with them. Being shot at day in and day out seemed to make one constantly feel that way. Now, finally, you were in a safe space with no threats? You were going to take full advantage of it and relax.

"Nah, think I'm going to go up to my room and put a nightgown on and get into bed," you sighed back to him.

"A nightgown huh?" he teased, elbowing you in the side.

Instantly, your brain understood where his just went and felt awkward and flushed.

"None of that now," you said shutting him down ,"its a straight up old mumu."

Soap is silent for a minute. "A mumu?" his tone showing the confusion you had just impaled upon him, not familiar with the term.

"Google it, I'm not explaining it to you," you said reslinging your TAC bag with your items over your shoulder again. "You lot have a good night, be safe and be careful." and waved over your shoulder leaving the four of them standing in the hotel lobby. Gaz lightly shoving Soap's shoulder for picking on you.

Entering the hotel room, finally decompressing, and showering you pulled your nightgown out of the bag.

It was most definitely NOT a mumu. Your brain had come up with the worst nightgown image you could to cut the banter from Soap. The nightgown you had was black lace, see through, and short. Being around testosterone, bullets and sweat- it was nice to feel feminine once in awhile. This was a treat to yourself for a job well done. No one injured or lost on this mission.

But upon doing so, there was a knock on your door. Hesitantly, you peeked through the peep hole worried who could be at your door. A pair of warm brown eyes stared back through the small hole and into the depth's of your own.

Instantly you knew who they belonged to, that of the large brooding man clad in black at all times known as Ghost- or better yet to you Simon.

In the time you both had spent with the 141, you and Ghost had grown the closest. Taking the time to get to know each other in the down time of being deployed had started something to bloom for him.

"Simon?" Opening the door only slightly so your head could peak around at him. "Thought you were going to the bar?"

"Thought you were wearin' an ugly nightgown?" He instantly rebutaled making your face heat. He had called your bluff, how had he known?

"Can tell when your bullshittin'," his tone matter of fact as he gently pushed the door open making you let him into your room. The large figure of the man looming over you, his eyes wandering your body in the black lace as it clung to you.

"Needed to see for myself," large hands on your waist and backing you up to the bed, lightly pushing you down once the mattress hit the back of your knees. "And I'm not disappointed."

Oh, how small you are under his large frame.

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

By the time I arrive at the bar, it’s after five. Late enough that everyone in our group will already be settled in, but early enough that it won’t be too crowded otherwise.

This place is nice, all exposed brick and greenery. That coupled with the dim lighting and decent music selection playing overhead lends itself to a cozy place to decompress after a busy day. That is, unless you’re sitting at a table with a dozen other people who are having multiple conversations at once, which is why I usually avoid these gatherings.

I scan the room and spot two tables full of our co-workers. Some of them have invited along a friend or significant other, making the group even larger than usual. Asher is sitting at the far end, leaning forward as Evan shows him something on their phone, both of them laughing. I don’t see an empty chair at either table, but that’s just fine by me. I’d rather sit at the small high-top table in the far corner.

Finally, I take a deep breath and head toward the bar.

I’m just reaching for my wallet to pay for my beer when Asher steps in front of me to order a drink. He tells the bartender to put both on his tab and then spins around to face me, “Hi.”

“Hi. Thank you.”

 “You’re welcome. Y’know, I was starting to wonder if you were gonna show up.”

“Yeah, sorry, I got stuck at work, but I’m here now.”

“I’m glad,” he says with a smile before turning to pick up our drinks, “Do you wanna sit down?”

“Sure.” I lead the way, walking past our group of co-workers toward the empty table I'd spotted in the far corner.

Part of me wonders if he’ll stop and sit with everyone else, but he doesn’t. He follows me without hesitation and hops onto the stool next to me when I sit down. As I lift my feet onto the footrest, our knees touch under the table, sending a current of electricity up my leg all the way to the center of my chest. I grin to myself as I reach to take a sip of my beer, noticing then that Asher’s drink looks identical to my own. I point to it, “Seriously? You give me shit, and you’re drinking an IPA?”

“It’s the first time I’ve had one,” he explains, “I wanted to try it, see what all the fuss is about.”

“And?”

He takes a sip and sets his glass back down with a shudder, “Ugh, it’s disgusting.”

 “Ah c’mon, it’s not that bad,” I say with a laugh as I take a drink.

He watches me with a pained expression, “It’s fucking rancid.”

Rolling my eyes, I reach over and take his glass, “Give me that. I’ll get you another drink. What do you want?”

“Oh god, thank you. A whiskey sour, please.”

“Coming right up.”

As I walk to the bar, I can feel Asher watching me from behind. Or am I imagining it? Probably just wishful thinking. I don’t dare to glance back to see. I’m not sure which would be worse: the embarrassment I’d feel if he was watching, or the disappointment I’d feel if he wasn’t. Better to just keep my eyes forward and my mind on the task at hand.

Prev // Next

[scorpiowritesnreads]

My Angelic Lover - Destiel (pt 1)

Pillow Fort

"Hey Dean?" Castiel asked. Dean turned around and focused on Castiel. Giving him his full attention.

"What's a pillow fort?" Castiel asked. He deeply wondered what the fascination was. It was a bunch of pillows and blankets. But the purpose baffled him as much as humanity did. Including his Dean. Dean wasn't his just yet but he loved this human more than others he had in the past.

"Ah. Pillow forts are for kids mostly but adults can enjoy them. It's a way to shut out the world and hide for a while. I used to do this with Sam and we would hide away from demons and monsters." Dean explained. "We can build one if you like?"

"Um... sure?" Castiel answered cautiously. He wasn't sure if it would be right to do this sort of fun despite Sam being possessed by Lucifer running around.

Dean saw the process of confusion and contemplation across Castiel's face. Dean said "We can take a break from trying to save the world by watching a movie and decompressing."

Dean wanted to do more with Castiel but deep down inside he knew the longing wasn't reciprocated. He longed to hold Castiel in his arms and kissed his forehead. He wanted to share his pies and burgers with Castiel as well. He never felt that way before in a long time. However reality knocked down his perfect illusion. Angels didn't fall in love with mortals. Even when they did bad things happened. God would strike it down in one way or another.

Castiel left because he wanted to get some fresh air. They had been stuck in the bunker obsessing with finding a way to save Sam.

He left the living room of the bunker and found the closet that had sheets. Returned to the living room and took the couch cushions and positioned them to be a fort-like structure and covered it with blankets. He went into the storage closet to find battery operated LED candles. He crawled in and placed them around the area in which they would lay down. He left to go find the projector from Sam's room.

"Sorry Sammy. I'm borrowing this. You aren't using it right now." He whispered in the vacant space that was Sam's room. Dean hoped that he would save Sam soon. He missed him. He was all he had left besides Bobby. They both died and came back and went through all sorts of hell. This was no different.

Castiel came back and saw the fort. Dean gestured for them to go inside. Cas crawled in and Dean followed.

"I see what you mean. This is very isolating. A little claustrophobic for me but I can deal with it." Castiel said as he noted his surroundings. The fort was sparsely lit.

They laid down and he put on a classic movie for them to watch. This felt right. Both secretly wished that this moment would last longer.

#castiel #destiel #dean #supernatural #fanfic

[tickly-trashcan]

Fidget {Optimus Prime and Bumblebee}

Bumblebee was a bundle of nerves as he waited for his orders. His leg was bouncing and he twiddled his digits. He stood up and paced around the room, then sat back down and was still for only a few moments before his leg was bouncing again.

“What are you fidgeting for, Bee?” Optimus Prime walked into the room, noticing Bumblebee’s unease.

He tried to still his leg, but he could not stop wringing his hands. “What are my orders?”

“Ah, I see…” Optimus hummed. He took a seat next to Bumblebee and put a hand on his shoulder. “Bee, I told you that you could take some time to relax before we head out again. I didn’t mean to make you anxious, I thought you would decompress a bit before I gave you more.”

Bumblebee shrugged. “I can’t help it -bzzt!- I don’t know why,” He buzzed between voices, playing clips to communicate with Optimus. Optimus leaned forward so that Bumblebee could see him and offered up a smile.

“Is there anything I can do to help you relax? Or at least take your mind off of it?”

“Oh, I know! -bzzt!- We need a distraction!” Bumblebee chirped. His hands had begun to settle, but in exchange, his leg was bouncing again.

Optimus chuckled and patted Bumblebee’s shoulder lightly. “What would be a good distraction for you, Bee?”

“A spoonful of sugar -bzzt!- or -bzzt!- hug me! No more -bzzt!- bad feelings…” He said, and his fidgeting came back full-force. He had a hard time asking for things sometimes, and he looked up to Optimus, which made it even more difficult.

“Well, I can definitely help with one of those,” He said with a smile. He opened his arms and Bumblebee hesitated for a moment before giving Optimus a hug. Optimus patted his back during the hug, noticing Bumblebee’s fidgeting subside. “Feeling better, kiddo?”

“Yes, indeed! -bzzt!- Thank you,” Bumblebee whirred.

Optimus patted his shoulder once he let go. “Now you just take some time and relax, okay?”

Bumblebee nodded and Optimus stood. As he walked away, however, Bumblebee began to fidget again. He turned back around and crossed his arms. “I guess you can’t help yourself, huh, Bee?”

“I’m sorry,” He said, looking down at the floor.

Optimus shook his head, walking back over to Bumblebee to make sure he was sufficiently calm before he left. “Don’t apologize, Bee.” He sat down next to him and shrugged. “We’ll just have to come up with another way to distract you. I have an idea, can I try it?”

“Try your hardest -bzzt!- but you’ll never break me!” Bumblebee said in a confident voice, but Optimus could tell he was exasperated. Anxiety was something he experienced as well, so he knew Bumblebee would have trouble with truly relaxing. Luckily, Optimus had an ace up his metal sleeve.

“Try my hardest, huh? You got it, Bee,” Optimus said, a slight tease to his tone. Bumblebee cocked his head to the side, still not sure exactly what Optimus was planning.

Optimus reached out and poked at his chassis, making Bumblebee flinch. He looked at Optimus with a nervous grin, but he made no other move to stop him. Optimus smiled and began to scribble his digits up and down the sides of Bumblebee’s chassis, making him chirp and whirr before breaking into laughter.

“Hehehe! -bzzt!- I didn’t expect it to tickle! -bzzt!- Hahahaha!!”

“Oh, you didn’t? Guess it was a surprise then, huh?”

“I love surprises! -bzzt!- Hehehe!” Bumblebee kicked his pedes, curling up on the bench as Optimus followed him with his tickly digits. He climbed up Bumblebee’s chassis and found the grooves beneath his arms, making him squeak loudly. “Not there! -bzzt!- Hahaha!!”

Optimus laughed softly along with Bumblebee, who jumped between different clips and laughed as he squirmed. After a little while, Optimus let up, giving Bumblebee a chance to stabilize from the tickles.

“How are you feeling now?”

“I’m on top of the world! -bzzt!- I feel much better, thank you!” Bumblebee said happily, and this time Optimus could tell he meant it. He pat Bumblebee’s head and stood again, walking off as Bumblebee continued to chirp and buzz.

Optimus lingered in the doorway for a few moments, but after he heard no more restless fidgeting, he smiled to himself and went off.