#AND WORKING HIS LITERAL FINGERS TO THE LITERAL ACTUAL BONE
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Wow. WOW. Okay, well, let's do this!
This isn't an argument, first of all—there's no conversation happening about who "deserves" credit or not, because that's completely irrelevant when it comes to who is credited as the director. Reading is fundamental, guys! You don't get to decide that MJ — what, didn't work hard enough to get his actual title and role recognized? Fuck off, seriously.
Besides, Scorsese himself has said numerous times that he never worked in any directorial capacity on Goncharov, including in that... real interesting Filmgeschichte interview (can somebody link to the translation, I can't find it). He talks about MJ called him after they wrapped on Lazzaretto Vecchio and gave Scorsese the heads-up about the possible diagnosis...es? Diagnoses? Diagnosi? And yes, Scorsese advocated for re-cutting the fruit stand scene to focus more on the Katya's desire to "corrupt" Sophia (I hate that terminology but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) rather than Sophia's desperation to be "corrupted." Yay for him, great contribution.
But he didn't actually re-cut the scene! Because HE WASN'T THE DIRECTOR! Do you know who did? THE DIRECTOR!
I know it's been said several times, but guys, seriously, this is kind of gross.
Martin Scorsese DID NOT DIRECT GONCHAROV. Yes, there was that awful shit that went down during post-production — and Scorsese definitely stepped up! — but we really have to stop this blatant disrespect for Matteo JWHJ0715 just because we didn't know who he was a week ago.
#imagine saying Matteo 'yeah I may have gotten tetanus leprosy and the bubonic plague filming this but I'm fine!' JWHJ0715#'wasn't putting in the effort that was required'#this is all EASILY DISCOVERABLE FILM HISTORY#THERE ARE LITERAL SEMINARS YOU CAN WATCH ON YOUTUBE ABOUT MJ GETTING THROUGH THE REST OF PRODUCTION#AND WORKING HIS LITERAL FINGERS TO THE LITERAL ACTUAL BONE#which uh tw if you look up pics of MJ during post#anyway if there's any notion that someone 'deserves' a co-director credit in the first place#which — let's be clear — there fucking isn't#then y'all should be talking about Dominico 'sure my wife left me for Harvey Keitel's stunt double but it was all worth it' Procacci#like you want to talk about deserving a director's credit#he LITERALLY directed the bridge scene after MJ got arrested in Salerno!#and yeah okay Scorsese and Procacci posted his bail and shit#which good for them!#THAT DOESN'T MEAN THEY DIRECTED THE MOVIE#anyway whatever this is ridiculous#goncharov motherfuckers
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" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes
ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3
⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency
This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.
"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.
"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —
Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."
You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.
"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.
"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.
"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."
"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"
You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —
"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"
⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office
Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.
Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.
Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?
How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.
It all made his head spin like crazy.
“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.
“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”
Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.
You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.
You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.
You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,
“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”
⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly
Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.
"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."
"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."
A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.
"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.
“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.
"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.
You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.
“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”
“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”
And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.
⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him
Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.
“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.
You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”
Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.
You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.
"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.
"O-oda—"
"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"
And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.
A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.
He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.
You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.
"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"
⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep
Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.
The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.
Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —
It all clicked suddenly.
The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.
It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?
He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.
Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.
He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.
"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.
Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.
© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !
#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader smut#bungou stray dogs smut#bsd#bsd smut#bsd x reader smut#bsd x reader#dazai smut#dazai x reader#dazai x reader smut#chuuya x reader#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader smut#jouno x reader#jouno smut#jouno x reader smut#tecchou smut#tecchou x reader#tecchou x reader smut#oda smut#oda x reader#oda x reader smut#sigma x reader#sigma smut#sigma x reader smut#dazai osamu#chuuya nakahara#jouno saigiku#tecchou suehiro
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𝙸 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢
| Hockey TeamVarious x Reader
Солнышко (Little Sun)
Yandere x reader (Part 1?)
—————————————————————————
An idea I have had for a while now.
So imagine yourself on a team. Except you’re not a player, no.
Actually..you’re technically not on the team because you’re one of a few people who rotates your position. You’re the mascot.
The beloved silly mascot of your team. The logo, the literal image of your hockey team. And you’re damn good too!
You get the crowds roaring, positively pumped-up for the game! And whether your team wins or loses, the highlights are always the silly little mascot who throws popcorn into the crowd or tosses shirts at unsuspecting families.
From time to time during the game you’d make your way onto the ice. Play fight with the team, steal a puck, steal a stick. Toss them to a crowd member. It was always in good fun, and the audience loved it!
And you weren’t just beloved by the fans, oh no no no, you were beloved by the team too.
So much so that at some point, the demand for your specific “mascotting” was so great, the other workers had to find a new career path. Damn shame too, you happened to like them quite a bit. But extra pay right? And it’s hard to deny how flattering it is being the fan favorite.
Of course it didn’t even cross your mind to question these circumstances, nor did you think to question the sudden increasing interactions you had with the team. Publicity, you assumed.
From number 47 dragging you onto the ice for some impromptu lessons. Still in costume might I add. Mid Play.
To number 13 laughing joyfully as he shoved you into the locker room after an intense game, and offered to wash your back for spending so long in such a sweaty suit. You denied him of course, the locker rooms weren’t meant for you! Duh.
You didn’t even question when number 1, the captain and goalie of the team, braced you against a barrier during half time, when your mask had precariously been knocked off by a rowdy fan. Nor did you see the viscous scowls directed at said fan. It was probably just keep your identity safe after all.
The score was 7 to 0 that game, in favour of your team. You weren’t sure what had pumped them up so much but whatever works right?
Course, you did get a puck to the cheek at one point and had to sub out for a bit. The players were non too happy when they discovered a different worker under your special suit. They were in a bad mood for the remainder of the game.
Number 19, who had a pension for bad behavior on the ice, sought you out specifically after the game too.
———-47—————19————1—————13———-
Your shoulders sagged tiredly against the cool wall of the changing room, blessing the AC that pumped through the units. Your jersey stuck sweatily to your skin, and you gasped with a dry mouth before a gloved hand appeared in your vision, a water bottle covered in condensation presented before you like a holy grail.
“You look like shit.” A scratchy voice scolds lightly by your ear, your eyes fluttering to glance at the rugged features of one of the team players settled besides your face, wedged deep into your personal space. The scent of sweat and body spray (axe probably) wafts into your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch instinctively before you give a lopsided smile.
“Hey Donovan, s’nice to see you. How’s the play been?” You gratefully take the cold bottle from his grasp, finger tips grazing the rough and warm texture of his gloves before meeting the cool plastic of the team merchandise bottle. Your little mascot stared back at you in a 2D style.
“Shitty. You’re supposed to be out there, not some random loser who can’t even get the crowd excited right. Now the teams pissed and it’s your fault.” His words end in a sneer, despite the attentive way his eyes are raking across your figure for injury beyond the welt on your cheek bone. His body near touches yours and causes another wave of sweat to seep into your skin.
With a thoughtful hum and a sip of refreshing water you push yourself from the locker, stepping into the more open air and cooling yourself off, while dark brown eyes watch you beneath a furrowed, displeased brow.
“Your guys’s concern flatters me. It’s nice having such thoughtful co-workers.” Your lips smile thoughtfully, glancing at him from your shoulder.
He looks incredulous, which somehow lands on being the least aggressive expression you’ve ever seen on him.
“Co-workers?” He echoes, like the word is the most foul tasting thing that’s ever touched his tongue. “We’re teammates. Not co-workers.”
You wave your hand dismissively, back turned and unaware of the tall figure that approaches your bubble again from behind. “Well, you and the guys definitely are. Maybe even the ice scrapers, though I’d argue they’re in the same realm as me to be honest. More staff than anything yknow?” Your tone is light, you know what your position is. And of course you’re grateful to be the main mascot, but you’re aware of your replacements that stand idle at the food stands, handing out popcorn between half times.
“I mean I’m just the person in the suit, anyone could play that part. I just hope I could train the next guy that signs up for the position, gotta make sure they do my legacy justice right-“
Big hands, no longer covered by scratchy material grip into your hips, swallowing the skin in raw heat and tugging you backwards. Your feet stumble and trip for less then a second before you’ve collided into a broad chest. The feeling of a hot breath condenses on the back of your neck, covering up your barely escaped laugh and choke.
Hair tickles the side of your forehead, as Donovan leans over your shoulder. His eyes set forward to the opposing wall lockers just like your own, his thumbs rubbing thoughtless shapes into your skin. He exhales, like he’s just spent the last four hours dealing with an ill tempered toddler that he’s finally reached his wits end with.
“You’re stupid.”
Your lips part in offense, ready to defend your intelligence before you’re prematurely silenced by a new hand that joins the mass of limbs, and rests gently across your dry lips.
“Let him finish, Солнышко.”(Solnishko)*
A thick accent reverberates into your ears, your eyes darting up to meet pale blue ones that gaze back at you so sternly. White teeth peer past his lips in what was probably a smile, but looked like a show of dominance with the way his canines sunk into the bottom of his lip.
“Don’t you have a team to manage, Cap?” Donovan snarls, teeth bared with displeasure at his private time with you being interrupted. With his arms circling more around your figure in a loose version of a back hug. You stay trapped between the two behemoths that cease every noise and shift of your joints with careful hands.
Carlson smiles, a thoughtful one that softens at you, his eyes never leaving yours now that he has your full attention, something that raises Donovan’s ire significantly. “I heard our little mascot wasn’t doing to well. I wanted to check up on them. I may have heard your little conversation as well.”
The word “little” always manages to filter into Carlsons sentences. And while one could blame it on English only being his second language, his reputation for being the teams most well spoken member speaks volumes otherwise. No, the real reason would have to be the sheer height he holds above all others. The authority he possesses that seeps into the rink and every room he walks into.
It’s not a simple slip of the tongue. It’s a reminder. That he is above every one he meets. He is the captain, and what he says is absolute.
Even the way he gazes down at you screams this thought, bullying its way into your skull as your brain refuses to acknowledge the sheer possessive, demeaning energy that seeps from his figure into yours, despite the alarm bells it rings through your system.
“It breaks my heart, Солнышко. You should know better.” His thumb curves along your jaw, thoughtful again, and practiced, engulfing your entire chin in what could be a crushing grip. But it isn’t, and it never will be. Not to you anyway. “Have we not shown you how much we adore your support in the rink? Have we been too dismissive of you?” He continues, though the mocking edge is nearly unnoticeable.
Donovan’s breath huffs into the shell of your ear, his figure hunched over you like a protective cloak, eyes still staring daggers at the taller man. “You think the team can we wait for us to…help remind our dear mascot how much we care about them?”
There’s a thoughtful hum, eye contact still unbroken through each word. “I’m sure they’ll be mad they didn’t get to join…but their forms were lacking today. They could use the extra practice.”
Carlson leaned forward, sky like eyes darkening like the sea as his nose hovers mere breathes from your own. “And I’ve heard that teaching in…more intimate settings, can lead to greater success in many fields..”
.
.
.
.
.
“Again.”
“I will not think lowly of my position on the team, I will not think of myself as replaceable, because I am the best-“
“Fucking.”
“….the best fucking mascot in the world. I am irreplaceable. I am the best.”
“Very good. Again.”
“It’s been 30 minutes!”
“Well last time we did 15 and that still wasn’t enough, so now we must double our efforts, Солнышко. Again.”
“Afterwards I’ll buy you one of those pretzels you like. If you want, I guess.”
“…….yeah okay.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#x oc#x reader#yandere hockey team#yandere team#yandere sports#multiple characters x reader#various x reader
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fantasy - kim taehyung x fem!reader
🖤 pairing: taehyung x fem!reader, established relationship, married
🖤 warnings: pure smut (18+ only), no plot, degradation (tae calls reader a slut *affectionately*), dom/sub dynamics, masturbation, explicit language, fingering, use of vibrator
🖤 summary: you love a man in uniform. more specifically, you love the way your husband looks in a uniform. he attempts to come home and surprise you, but he's the one left in shock.
🖤 a/n: this is 100% based on that video of v on patrol. he is too sexy. 😮���💨 thus, this was born. hope you enjoy! ☺️
disclaimer: i am in no way affiliated with taehyung aka "v of bts". this is purely a work of fiction.
my masterlist
This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!
your thighs tremble, locking around the vibrator pressed to your center.
you're fighting your orgasm, not ready for the pleasure to end. if you had an ounce of shame, you'd be embarrassed by how quickly a few photos of your husband can make you cum. but, alas, you have none.
shutting your eyes in ecstasy, it's hard to focus when the vibrator is so steady against your clit, massaging the sensitive nub. still, your mind drifts to him. he looked even bigger than the last time you saw him. firm muscles filling out the black uniform, a timid smile on his perfect face.
and ugh, did he have to be so polite? you're caught between cuteness aggression and the need to jump his bones. the latter wins.
he quite literally looked like your ultimate fantasy. it flashes through your mind. taehyung hovering over you, still dressed in that black uniform. you can almost hear his deep voice, whispering pure filth into your ear.
goosebumps break out over your body. the vibrator feels amazing, your vagina clenching around nothing. you feel hot all over and unable to keep teasing yourself. if your husband were here, he'd be able to give you exactly what you want. the thought makes you press harder, wetness coating the silicone toy.
"fuck, tae," you whine out, still imagining his thick cock inside of you.
"i guess we're both suprising each other today." his low timbre makes you scream, heart beating out of your chest.
"ohmygoshwhatthefuck!" you're trembling, yanking the vibrator away to regain your bearings. your husband only lets out a chuckle, making his way over to the bed. and that's when you notice.
that fucking uniform.
he's still fully dressed. the black fabric pulled tight over his newly acquired muscle. you saw him just a few weeks ago on his break, yet he's somehow gotten even bigger. his hair has grown out a little more, too. you're appreciating his tanned skin, loving the way it contrasts the dark uniform.
"tae, what are you doing here?" you breathe out, rising up to meet his lips. the kiss accelerates your heartbeat, arousal stirring deep in your stomach. he brings an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his warm body. he's a little rough nowadays, a desperation he's picked up since being in the military. you feel that way, too, hands roaming all over him.
"i requested more time off," he breathes in between kisses, "needed to see you again." his admission turns you on even further, in love with the way he loves you. his hands are greedy, slipping from your waist to grab handfuls of your ass. you made it easy for him. one of his loose t shirts paired with your thong does little to cover you.
"missed you so much," you whine out, head lulling back, lost in the way he kisses down your neck.
"i can tell." you hear the smirk in his voice, suddenly remembering the predicament he caught you in just a few moments prior.
"about that..." you mutter, suddenly feeling shy again. you're quiet for a few moments, finding it hard to focus on anything aside from the way his hands feel against your skin. they're rough, obviously a side effect of his active duty. the cool metal of his wedding ring sears into your heated skin, the sensation driving you wild.
"i do the same thing, baby. almost every night," he huffs, tucking an arm under under your ass to wrap your legs around his waist. he lowers you onto the mattress, strong frame hovering over you. a moan slips out of you, the sight of your fantasy playing out in front of you is almost too much to bear.
"i get in the shower and imagine you're there with me," he speaks against your skin, starting from the valley of your breasts. "i get so fuckin' hard, and all i have is my hand," he confesses, closing his lips around your hard nipple.
"s-shit baby," you moan, running your fingers through his short hair. he's almost animalistic in the way he sucks your breast, tongue swirling around your areola. he massages the other with his hand, rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers.
"had to come home and have you in front of me. couldn't take it anymore," he grunts, finally pulling your shirt off. his eyes are dark, unabashedly checking you out.
your nipples are hard, and he watches them rise up and down each time you pant. he studies your body, eyes finally landing on your skimpy thong. an unmistakable groan reaches your ears, more arousal flooding the flimsy fabric.
"tae, c'mon please," you beg, reaching for his arms to do anything. you don't even care what he does. you just need to feel him.
he lowers himself to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot. holding himself up with one arm, he's careful not to put his full weight on you. his soft lips trail up to your ear, pressing a delicate kiss there.
"tell me what you were thinking about, baby," he hums, slowly dragging his hand down your stomach. he toys with your thong, dipping in, still not deep enough to give you much stimulation. the sensation makes you clench around nothing, desperation coursing through your veins.
"t-this, i was thinking about exactly this," you confess. he rewards you immediately, middle finger slipping down to draw slow circles on your hardened nub. his cock throbs at the loud moan you let out, sounding like an absolute wet dream.
"yeah, just needed me to come home and touch your little pussy?" he coos into your ear, before sucking a love bite right below your jaw.
you swear you're going to come any second. all of it is too much, but not enough at the same time. his body is so warm and inviting, and his scent floods your senses. it's a clean scent, laced with a hint of musk that makes your eyes roll back.
"y-yeah, saw a picture of you in that uniform," you squeal, hips bucking into his hand. he's using more pressure, rubbing faster circles into your clit.
"what a slut. you started touching yourself just from a picture?" he's teasing you. the cockiness in his voice is so attractive. he has a smug look on his face, studying the way you shamelessly grind into his hand, chasing your long lost orgasm.
"mhmm, 'm a slut for you, tae," you babble, unable to focus on anything but this earth-shattering pleasure.
"i know you are, baby. that's why i fuckin' love you." you jump at the sudden vibration. he's using one hand to press the vibrator against your clit and using the other to fuck you with his fingers.
"o-oh, i'm gonna cum," you gasp. the squelch of his fingers sliding into your wetness makes you feel filthy. he presses a button, making the vibrations grow stronger. you whine out, more wetness coating his fingers.
"damn, you're wet." his deep voice only adds to your pleasure. his fingers are thick, gliding against your walls with ease. the stretch is perfect, exactly what you've been needing.
"shit, shit, shit!"
"yeah, baby. go ahead and cum on my fingers," he mutters, brushing against that spongy spot inside of you. the moan you let out is pornographic, satisfaction radiating throughout tae's body.
"yeah, let it out. good girl." his praise sends you over the edge, clenching around his fingers like a vice. he works you through your orgasm, slowing pleasuring you through the intensity. you're seeing stars, the orgasm overriding your senses.
you hear tae's soft affirmations in your ears. a steady stream of good girl, so pretty, my perfect girl, only add to the airy feeling. it takes you a minute to come down. he slowly lowers the vibrations, not wanting to overstimulate you.
"you still with me pretty girl?"
"i'm good, baby," you mumble, nestling into your husband's side. he kisses your forehead, pulling you closer to him. he stays with you for a few minutes. your breaths become slow and shallow, fully relaxing into the mattress.
"i need to get changed, sweetheart," he whispers, untangling himself and tucking your body under the covers.
he hovers over you, unable to take his eyes off your peaceful form. your eyes are closed, a content smile on your lips. this is exactly why he needed time off. he's been missing you so much that it hurts.
"tae, get changed so you can hurry back," you whine, a warm blush spreading across his cheeks. he thought you were asleep, and he's been staring at you like a creep. but, he's too in love to care.
"okay, baby," he soothes you, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before heading to his wardrobe. he trips over himself a few times, excitement making him jittery. he laughs at himself, feeling like a lovesick fool. but, he wouldn't have it any other way. and neither would you.
#𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆。 ra ra fics#taehyung#taehyung x reader#taehyung smut#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts x black reader#v bts#taehyung fanfic
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somewhere we can be alone
stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader
a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3
summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.
word count: 7.7k words
warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot
This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.
“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”
He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.
“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.
The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.
He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.
“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”
And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.
“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.
“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.
The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.
Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.
He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.
Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.
“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.
A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”
Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.
He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.
He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.
“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.
“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?
Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.
The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.
“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.
Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.
“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.
You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.
“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”
With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.
Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”
His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.
Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.
Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.
He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.
And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.
Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.
So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.
Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX
Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.
So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.
“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.
“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.
He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.
Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.
Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.
“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.
“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.
“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.
Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.
“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.
“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.
“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.
Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.
“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.
So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.
Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.
But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.
So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.
By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.
“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.
You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.
“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.
Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.
You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.
“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.
“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.
“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.
“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.
“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.
“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.
“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.
“N-No,” you whimper.
“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.
“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.
“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”
You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.
You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”
You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”
Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”
His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.
Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.
He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.
From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.
“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.
“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.
“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.
“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”
“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.
“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.
His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.
“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.
“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.
So close, so close–
He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.
“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.
The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.
You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.
His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.
You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.
And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.
If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.
Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.
You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.
“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.
“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.
“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”
You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?
“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.
A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.
“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.
“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.
“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.
He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.
“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.
“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”
And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.
That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”
Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.
His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.
He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.
“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.
“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”
He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.
“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”
You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.
“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.
And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.
You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.
“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.
So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?
He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.
Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.
You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.
Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.
He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.
“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.
“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.
Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.
“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.
“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.
“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.
“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.
“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.
“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.
“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.
Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.
“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”
You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.
It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.
“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.
You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.
But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.
“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.
“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.
“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.
You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.
“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.
“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.
You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.
As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.
Just you and him. In his van.
You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.
“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.
Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.
Opening night. It’s finally here.
You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?
Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.
Break a leg Juliet xx.
You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.
You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.
You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.
“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.
“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.
“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.
“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.
“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.
“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.
You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”
“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.
“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.
“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.
“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.
You seem unconvinced, still.
“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.
Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.
“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.
“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.
His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”
You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.
A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.
He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.
He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.
A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.
A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.
A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.
“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.
You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.
“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.
“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.
You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.
“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.
A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.
“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.
Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.
“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.
Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.
You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.
You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.
The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.
You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.
“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.
“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.
“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.
“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.
“So, how about that date?”
thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#stranger things#eddie munson x you#stranger things fanfiction#stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!reader#eddie munson fluff
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FACE MASSAGE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori
You give your boyfriend a nice, relaxing face massage when Sukuna, being bored out of his mind, takes over Yuji’s body.
cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna — 1,3k words
a/n: alrighty, this one I wrote randomly thinking of how the lines actually are quite a good guide for a face massage (also, if you never had face or a scalp massage, you're missing out!). i usually write Sukuna as his separate person, but here he's in a vessel. it's nothing but purely fluffed up piece of late-night babbling, enjoy 🩷
It was already late, the clock showed almost 11pm, but you were not asleep. Yuji had just gotten home, taken a shower, and breathed out loudly, whining to heavens about how he had worked his butt off during the training session with Gojo. Your boyfriend came back all tired, and the hot shower didn't do much to soothe his strained muscles.
"I'm soooo tired," he whined again, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable pout his lips had formed as he walked into the room you shared with him.
"'My poor thing," you cooed, kissing his forehead as he sat down next to you. "How about I give you a little face massage?"
"Yes, please," Itadori nodded vigorously and you giggled as you instructed him how to position himself and when you had his head comfortably over your lap, you warmed up a nice portion of face cream in your palms.
"Relax for me, baby," you told him, and he closed his eyes the moment your fingers made contact with his skin.
Yuji loved the magic your hands performed upon his aching muscles, and he found head and face massages particularly relaxing, so it wasn't surprising when he began to doze off in a matter of moments. With him half-asleep, you could take your time to admire the boy who had shamelessly stolen your heart with just one of his wide and extremely kind smiles, and as you glided your fingers smoothly across his forehead, down his temples, cheekbones, and jaw, you fell in love all over again. At first you were extremely gentle, stroking along his features, warming the skin as you went, before applying more pressure to the knots under his skin.
You rubbed small circles across his forehead, paying a little more attention to the space between his eyebrows and near his temples before lowering your hands to work the lotion into the large muscles over his cheeks. Using your thumbs, you forced the tension away with enough pressure to make Yuji purr softly. Then something unexpected happened. Black, tattoo-like lines appeared under your fingers and you slowed your movements, startled by the sight.
You knew that there is a curse living rent-free in your boyfriend, and you've seen Sukuna before, but he had never come out like that, for no reason, without a fight, without a single trigger, so you had no idea what to expect.
"Continue," he ordered, and you swallowed, pressing your fingertips back to his cheeks. Ironically, the lines that adorned his face made for a perfect guide for the massage, and you unconsciously followed them.
"Is there a reason for your appearance now?" you asked cautiously, keeping your fingernails away from the extra pair of eyes as you brushed over the bones beneath them.
"Nothing in particular," he replied lightly, looking up at you as his expression turned more serious. "Although I don't like you looking at me from above."
"You're literally on my lap."
"That's why I'll allow it, once. As for why," he relaxed his face again as you slid down his cheeks to work the muscle around his mouth and along his jawline. "Can you imagine how bored I am inside this brat?"
"I'm afraid not."
"You can't, that's right." A sigh left Sukuna's mouth. "What a pity, I'm bored out of my mind."
"I see, but please don't tire Yuji any more, he's already exhausted."
"You should worry about yourself rather than him being tired."
"I probably should, but if you were to decide to kill me now, you wouldn't get to experience the wonders of my scalp massage, so if you're okay with such a loss..."
You were really pushing his buttons here, being way too brave for your own good, but he seemed comfortable with the situation, which gave you hope that you wouldn't be decapitated anytime soon.
"Proceed then, and I'll make my decision afterward."
You finished his facial massage with a few light strokes along his features and wiped your hands with a tissue to remove any excess cream that hadn't absorbed yet, before you sink your hands into his hair. "Could you flip over to your stomach?" Once that was done, and Sukuna turned almost too obediently as you guided his head back to your lap, you used your fingers to brush through his blush-toned hair, pushing it back and purposefully scratching the skin between the strands as you dragged your hands to the nape of his neck. Once again, you used circular motions and quite a bit of pressure to stimulate the circulation and relax the tense muscles. You knew it was pleasurable, you knew how Yuji's body reacted to your touch and the fact that it was the King of Curses at this moment couldn't change that. The only thing different was the silence, which would normally be filled with constant mewling and whimpering from your boyfriend, but you couldn't expect those from Sukuna. Frankly, you'd be startled if he suddenly started purring.
As you worked your magic, the man remained calm, his cheek pressed against your thigh and his arms behind your back and around your legs, and it didn't really bother you too much. His touch was almost non-existent, he just kept his hands there because they had to go somewhere.
"Do you find this acceptable?" you asked quietly, lowering your fingers to graze the back of his neck. Your thumbs slid down the line of muscles that connected them to his shoulders, and he moved his arms down, giving you more access to that area.
"Acceptable is a good term," he muttered, exhaling deeply as you firmly squeezed the shoulder muscles, working out the tight knots there. Normally, this would turn Itadori into a whining mess, needy of affection and ready for endless cuddles, but for Sukuna, you put more effort into what you were doing. It felt strange. Technically, it was still your boyfriend's body that you had touched many times before, but somehow it felt like you were massaging a foreign man. Even though your fingertips knew the dips and curves of his silhouette, your mind found it hard to process.
Lost in thoughts, you let your hands go lower, onto the shoulder blades and near the spine, following the line down, working your palms into his toned back, only snapping back to reality when one of your hands brushed over the stitches. Oh yes, Yuji had injured himself the day before and because of Shoko's absence, he had to have the wound stitched up. He shouldn't be training with that at all, but he's so stubborn...
"Sukuna?", you addressed him quietly, trying to sound as respectful and polite as possible.
"What do you want?" he replied, his voice indifferent, but he knew from your tone that you needed something from him.
"There is a wound on Yuji's back. Could you heal it so that I can massage that area as well?"
“I don’t mind the pain. I don’t feel it,” he informed bluntly.
“But I can’t massage over stitches. I know it’s nothing for you, so pleaseee?”
"You're pushing your luck, you know that, right?" Sukuna laughed. Oh, how sneaky you were, he loved it, and it's only because he really enjoyed the massage that he granted your request. The sewn-up wound healed before your eyes and black stitches fell away. Your whole face lit up as you ran your hand over the spot.
"Thank youu," you smiled, and as if on autopilot, your body bent forward. You planted a soft kiss on the top of his head before you could think twice and only realized what you'd done when it was too late. Oh. "I'm sorry," you muttered quickly.
"You're so fucking clingy," he scoffed. "Humans..."
"Don't be mad, I'm just grateful," you cooed, returning your nails to his scalp to hopefully distract him from wanting to cut you to ribbons, and it seemed to do the trick as he melted over your thigh, relaxing his body once again.
In few minutes the black markings disappeared, your boyfriend was back and you were left confused but relieved.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna imagines#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#itadori#itadori yuji#itadori fluff#itadori yuji fluff#itadori x you#itadori yuji x you#itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#itadori imagines#itadori yuji imagines
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and if we had a moment, could you face it?
note : this didn’t really turn out the way I wanted it to be but I’m still kinda ok with it. mdni
wc : 2.6k
desc : you finally decide it’s time to take you and Leon’s relationship to bed. smut!! - riding (p in v), fingering, established relationship, not proofread, pet names (baby), fem!reader, ID!Leon
If there hadn't been construction going on along the main route you took to get back to your apartment from work, you wouldn't have met Leon. You decided to go a different way that night, you walked to and from work most days, so it wasn't much of a difference. Leon had run into you, literally, when he rounded the street corner without seeing you and stumbled into you, not knocking you over, but instead spilling his coffee all over your blouse. You didn't know why he was drinking coffee at five p.m. at first, but you later found out that it was because he had been in a rush to go do more work for the DSO and that he needed to be awake for it. That didn't stop him from stopping what he was doing and awkwardly trying to help you clean off your blouse.
Leon ended up walking you back to your apartment, offering to buy you a new blouse even after you told him he didn't need to. After a few minutes of you assuring him it wasn't a big deal, he backed down, smiled at you, wished you goodnight, and left. He completely forgot to ask you out to dinner.
He did get the opportunity to ask you out, though, when he ran into you a few weeks later at the grocery store. Leon had been expecting another rejection, but you had simply smiled and said yes. Hearing you say yes made the rest of his week, he didn’t know what made you say agree to a date with him, but whatever it was, he was happy about it.
Leon had tried to be a bit more gentlemanly to you on the night of your date, thinking about how close he had been walking next to you, trying not to pull on a push door, doing his best not to scare you off. He really wanted this to go well, he thought you were pretty, and you had already given him a chance, so that had to be a good sign, right? He hadn’t been on an actual date in what felt like years (because it had actually been years), and even if the two of you didn’t become an item, he still wanted to take you out on a couple of nice dates.
One date turned to two, then two to three, then three to seven, and now Leon can’t get you off his mind. The two of you were very obviously attracted with each other, but you both had your own fears about dating one another. You were worried that you’d put a bunch of time and effort into the relationship only for him to discover he didn’t want to be with you and leave, and Leon was worried that his job would scare you away or that you’d find all of the problems he carried around everywhere he went to be a burden and that he wasn’t worth it. But you didn’t think he was a burden, and he was determined to stick this out with you for as long as you’d let him.
Leon was at your beck and call, as long as he was in town. He felt embarrassed for liking you so much so early on in your relationship, but when you flirted back with him, he swore he could feel his heart stop for a second before he came back at you with something cheesier to say, he couldn’t really say no to you.
You liked Leon a lot, and you knew he liked you, but his job did scare you a little bit. Not that you knew much, but you knew it was dangerous. As your dates with Leon grew in number, he assured you that he wouldn’t put you in any kind of danger, and you believed him.
It’s been a little over seven months now, Leon was willing to take this as slow as you wanted, the two of you had only ever kissed, barely even made-out, really. Leon wasn’t around all the time, you knew that would happen when you started dating him, but he always tried his best to make up for lost time when he got back to you.
You just wanted to jump his bones sometimes. He’d sit across from you at dinner, the top two buttons of his shirt left unbuttoned, revealing just enough of his collarbone for you to want to see everything else. Or when he’d put his hand on your thigh when he sat down next to you, or just letting his hand rest on your waist. There were a lot of things, really.
You knew Leon felt the same. You’d catch him staring for too long when you wore a tank top with a neckline that dipped down a bit too far, he wouldn’t even apologize when you caught him, he’d just smirk a tiny bit, glance down again, then go back to what he was doing a few moment before.
Leon did want to take things a bit slow with you, but he also knew that there was something missing from his relationship with you. But he wanted you to be absolutely sure you wouldn’t regret anything. You knew he was nervous about it, sex was a topic that the two of you didn’t talk about a lot, you really only spoke about it in jokes, but you knew he was being serious when he said he could rock your world.
Leon’s been in meetings for most of the week, but he cleared time to take you to this fancy restaurant tonight. The food was good, so was the wine, and of course, the company. Leon wasn’t planning on staying the night at your apartment, but you had asked him to, because you knew he wouldn’t say no.
He had watched you kick your heels off at the door, letting you grab onto his shoulder for support as he toed off his own shoes, then quietly followed behind you as you moved deeper into your apartment. Leon could feel his brain shut down for a second when you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and tug him closer to you to find his lips in a sloppy kiss, which he eagerly returned.
Leon’s hands found their way to your hips, pulling you even closer to him as you let go of his shirt and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You didn’t keep your arms there for long, one of your hands slid down to try and unbutton the rest of his shirt, fiddling with the buttons for a few seconds before your other hand joined.
His breath caught in his throat slightly as he felt both you easily unbutton his shirt, he broke the kiss and grabbed one of your wrists, leaning his face away from you a tiny bit.
“I know what you’re doing,” He murmured, you only smiled at him and slipped your hand that he wasn’t holding inside his shirt, groping his chest gently.
“Then don’t stop me.” You giggled, kissing him again.
He groaned into the kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to cradle the back of your head as you continued unbuttoning his shirt while walking him down your hallway and towards your room.
“Your hearts beating really fast.” You say breathlessly as you pull a few inches away from Leon’s lips, he snorts softly.
“I have a pretty good idea as to why,” His hand falls from the back of your head to rest above the curve of your ass
“Tell me.” You finally got the last button of his shirt unbuttoned, your hands go up to begin sliding it off his shoulders.
“Maybe because my pretty girlfriend has me in her apartment, trying to get me naked.”
“You want me to stop?” You ask, pausing momentarily.
“No.”
“Good,” You smile, taking his shirt all the way off and discarding it on the floor outside your bedroom door. Leon kisses along your jawline as he pulls you inside your bedroom, you make work of your hands once again, sliding them down his torso and to the front of his pants to tug at his belt before you begin unbuttoning it.
Leon doesn’t stop you this time, his hand moves higher up your back, running his fingers along the zipper teeth on the back of your dress, continuing to kiss your jaw and down your throat. You giggle as he starts pulling the zipper down, at the same time, you pull his belt free from the belt-loops of his jeans, he groans at the feeling.
Leon backs away from you, leaving your dress zipped up only halfway as he pulls down his pants, stepping out of them as they pool at the floor. You smile widely at him, taking in every inch of his body you hadn’t seen before and were eager to get your hands on. Your eyes flick from his face, to his heaving chest, and to the erection starting to strain against his boxers.
You don’t let him pull those off yet. Instead, grabbing his bicep and pulling him closer before pushing him back onto your bed. Leon huffs as his body meets your mattress, but he’s quick to adjust, sitting up on his elbows and staring up at you as he waits for your next move.
You reach around your back to find the zipper, it’s down low enough on your dress for you to pull it down the rest of the way. You quickly pull your dress down and let it fall to the floor, stepping out of it as you try not to fall onto Leon. When you look back at Leon, his eyes are wide and there’s a look of awe etched onto his face, you watch him as he trails his eyes up and down your body, like how you had done with him. When his eyes meet yours again, he smiles and you step closer to him.
Leon’s hands land back on your hips as you stand between his legs, your own hands find his shoulders, pulling him closer so you could kiss him eagerly once again.
Leon breaks the kiss for a second, leaning back again and tugging lightly at the elastic band seen inside the fabric of your panties. “You still wanna do this?”
“Very much, yeah,” You nod, he smiles and pulls on the elastic band, letting it snap against your skin when he lets go of it. “There’s a few condoms in my nightstand.” You nod your head towards the nightstand next to your bed, Leon lets go of you for a second and reaches over to pull one out.
“You planned this.”
“Of course I did.”
“Of course you did.” He chuckles and shakes his head softly, placing the condom down next to his thigh as he moves his hands to tug your underwear down.
You groan softly at the intrusion of his fingers in your slick cunt, you steady yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders, bending your leg and bringing it up to rest against the outside of his right thigh as he runs his fingers through your slick folds before he stops at your clit, rubbing gently.
Leon says nothing, continuing to rub your clit as he moves his head to your shoulder, kissing and biting along the skin he finds there. Soft mewls fall from your lips as he continues on his mission. Leon stops for a second shifting slightly on your bed and readjusting his hand, one of his fingers slips inside of you, he pumps it in and out slowly as his kisses move from your shoulder to your throat.
After another moment of Leon fingering you, he adds another finger. He uses his other hand to push you more upright, his face is in front of your bra-covered breasts, his unoccupied hand comes up to pull your bra straps down your shoulders, then he pulls down the bra cups and slips his hand underneath them to push your breasts fully out of the bra.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” He whispers to you, he continues to kiss down your throat and to your breasts, beginning to bite and suck at the soft mounds of flesh, listening carefully as you keep whining at the feeling of him curling his fingers inside of you. “I’m almost done, baby, don’t worry.” He mumbles reassuringly looking up at you through his eyelashes as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.
After another minute or two of Leon fingering you and sucking on your breasts, he withdraws his fingers, wiping your arousel on his thigh before he grabs the condom and opens it.
You don’t don’t watch him as he takes off his boxers and puts the condom on, instead unclasping your bra and tossing it onto the floor. When he’s done, he grabs your hips and pulls you closer, leaning back as you hover above his cock.
It’s your turn to cover Leon in bite marks and hickeys, you grab his jaw and start kissing at his throat, he holds your hips gently as he slowly pulls you down until the tip of his cock brushes up against your entrance. You stop kissing his neck, pulling your head back to look at him as you slowly sink down onto him. You both groan at the feeling, his fingernails dig into your hips as he bucks his own hips up slightly to meet yours.
Once he was fully inside of you, your mouth returns to his throat, biting down on his Adam’s apple as you start to move. He groaned once again, squeezing your hips tighter as he started to help guide your movements.
“Goddamn,” He grunts, “You f-feel so good.”
“So do you,” You whisper against his ear, kissing down his jawline as you grind against him a bit harder.
“You- fuck- you’re t-too damn good to me.” He panted, laying back against your mattress. You leaned over, kissing along his chest now as his hands slid down to your thighs and Leon’s silently praying for this to become a regular thing.
“You sound really pretty.” You murmur against his skin as you start to bite his pecs.
“Pretty?” He chuckles breathlessly.
“Mhmmmm,” Your hum of approval trails off into a whine as you pick up the pace again.
You can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching after a few more moments, you can tell that Leon feels the same because of how his fingers keep digging into your flesh and how his breath catches in his throat.
“God, baby, please-“ You brace yourself against his chest, leaning forward to kiss him once again. His hips buck up to meet your downward thrusts, trying to bring you closer to your orgasm.
Not even two minutes later, your orgasm rips through your body, you whine into Leon’s mouth and collapse down against him. He wraps his arms around you, continuing to thrust into you, his own orgasm following not too far from behind yours.
When the aftershocks finally die out, you sit up straight, bracing yourself on Leon’s chest once again. He looks up at you with a smile, bringing his hands up to cover yours.
“You’re way too good to me.” He chuckles, squeezing your hands.
“Yeah, well, no one else gets this treatment from me.”
“They better not. I mean, that was just… goddamn.”
“That good?”
“Amazing.” You smile down at him, feeling his chest rise and fall underneath the palm of your hands.
“Well, if you liked that, then you should stick around and see what else I can do.”
“Oh, I plan on it.”
“Perfect,”
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy smut
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Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together
grim reaper! jason todd
Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.
Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling
Word Count: 6081
Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)
Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.
Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!
He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.
"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly.
Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention.
"You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed.
“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him.
As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was.
He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,
“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.
He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”
Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”
“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.
He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.
“I mean, not really.”
A pause of silence.
“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”
“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?”
“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”
“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”
He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”
“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.
"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”
“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”
“Well… yes, but-”
“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”
He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”
“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.
“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”
You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”
“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.
“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.
He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention.
“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”
“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice."
He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”
"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."
He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”
“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.
“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied.
“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?
“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”
He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”
“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now.
“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.
“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”
He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”
“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle.
“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen.
You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.
“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch.
“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.
His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event.
And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things.
“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned.
“What? You don’t want me here?”
“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”
“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”
“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?”
Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance.
He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest.
This was a much better use of his time.
“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast.
“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands.
He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”
“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page.
“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you.
“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.”
He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?”
“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body.
“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.”
Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this.
“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!”
He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”
“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”
“Hm? Yeah, why?”
He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."
You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand.
“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.
You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”
“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.
“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”
He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.
“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.”
“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing.
“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”
“That sounds just fine to me.”
His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes.
You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.
“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm.
“Yeah,” You mumble back.
He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.
Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist.
His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming.
Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.
"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.
He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.
You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher.
Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.
“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.
“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping.
“You have me.”
“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”
“You can have that too…” You sighed out.
“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.
“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter.
The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.
He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you.
"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation.
You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you.
“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”
You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.
Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one.
“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly, and he never wants to stop hearing your voice.
“I got you, princess.”
He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?”
“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.
“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body.
You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you.
You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”
Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed.
His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers.
“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame.
He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.
He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him.
“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins.
He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud.
“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face.
He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub.
“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could.
He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.
“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.
“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.
“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths.
“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason.
“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.
“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.
“N-not there!”
“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”
“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you.
“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him.
“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you.
“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”
You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard.
The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.
He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him.
He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you.
“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break.
“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue.
The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins.
Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia.
Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew.
“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in.
“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole.
“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.
His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’
You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.
“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore.
“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small.
He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his.
His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.
He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips.
He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh.
“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”
He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again.
“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt.
“Please.”
You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.
“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms.
You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over.
He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat.
“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”
“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask.
You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”
“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers.
His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”
“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”
You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language.
He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting.
He’s…. big.
Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.
“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance.
His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists.
He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.
“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter.
“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again.
Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother.
You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside.
“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.
He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos.
“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.
“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him.
He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.”
“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble.
“Isn’t it?” He grins.
He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock.
He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come.
You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body.
He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust.
“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins.
“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat.
“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.
“J-Jay…”
Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls.
He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”
A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once.
“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp.
He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body.
“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”
“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder.
“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”
Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.
“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.
“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.”
A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath.
The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred.
When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.
“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.
You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him.
"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."
“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly.
Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."
Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3
- sumi ☆ミ
ミ☆ masterlist
requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah
#sumi — dc.#sumi — my love.#sumi — works.#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#dc smut#dc x reader#red hood x reader#red hood smut
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its 10pm again.... 😈😈
rivals with benefits Luke who makes everything a competition. even in bed. 😼
IM ALSO SO SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX
MDNI
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
a/n: liv we're boxing because i literally could not rest until i got this right,,,, smut. public sex. wrap before you tap. creampie. all the nasty things. fuck man...
wc: 968
“That’s a point for me,” Luke says with a menacing grin. The both of you are soaked to the bone after paddling across Canoe Lake to see who could make it to the other end the fastest, and as you gasp for air while holding onto the wood post of the pier, you can’t help but somehow be convinced that he cheated.
“You’re built like a frog with those long legs of yours, how the fuck was I supposed to win?”
Daybreak spreads slowly across Camp Half-Blood, sunlight kissing where the sky meets the water and Luke thinks he wants to kiss you. Knows it, actually—deep down to his bones that the line between hatred and love must be lust.
He swims closer to you like a predator creeping toward his prey, wet curls stuck to his forehead as he admires how hard you’re breathing. You’re right there, and since you like to make a competition of everything from capture the flag strategies to how many campers you both can get to screech at nightly sing-a-longs, he thinks he has an offer you won’t be able to resist. Luke’s hands glide under your shirt as the both of you tread water, still fighting for dominance even when it comes to who takes up the most space to stay afloat. You lick your lips, fingers tugging at his camp necklace as you look at him curiously and raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve got an idea…”
“I’ll start my prayers,” you smirk, before seeing the hot burning want in his gaze. You can feel it in his fingers as they brush the underside of your breasts, nipples stiff in the frigid water. Shaking your head, a nervous giggle leaves you as your arms circle his neck, bodies separated by your thin, sopping nightshirt. If he touches the rest of you, he’ll find other parts that are wet too, warm enough to brave the chill of the morning breeze that settles upon your shoulders.
“The nymphs might see…” you whisper, even though the both of you know not a single soul is awake right now but time is running out like sand in an hourglass.
“You backing down?”
The kiss you press into his open mouth is a clear enough answer—tongues sliding and spearing against each other, hot and angry and bruising. It’s a fair shot, not knowing who’s going to come out on top.
—
“Oh, gods, please!”
Your hands and knees are scraping in the rocks and sand of the shoreline underneath the pier as Luke pistons into you at an alarming rate, each thrust a blow to your senses. He watches your head bob up towards the sky almost in reverent prayer and he’s grinning, continually sinking into your warmth while the rest of him shudders from the cold. Luke’s cock works inside your slick hole instead of against it, and he laughs at the irony of you finally letting him have his way. Your fingernails dig into the coarse beach, grains of sand making their way through every crevice as he fills your pulsing one with glee.
“Fucking knew you’d behave…” he grunts, one hand pulling at the thin cloth around your waist and the other holds onto your stomach so he can feel himself bludgeon you from the inside. “Can’t fight back when you’re getting your brains fucked out, hmm?”
He watches your pretty tits swing from the stretched out opening of your soggy shirt as you choke out a sob of pleasure.
“Yes…f-fuck Luke,” you whine, reaching back to ease your hand against his abdomen but he pulls it behind your back to use as a better hold on you. Luke puts two of his fingers in your mouth and they prod at the skin of your cheek, spit dripping around the digits.
Despite the intrusion, you’re groaning loud enough over the icy smacks against your skin that for a moment he thinks it might actually wake the forest nymphs, but then he’s distracted by your pussy pushing and pulling him as his hips clap against your ass, leaving them raw for days to come. Light waves crash against the shore with your movements, splashing against your knees and you’re giggling at him with a dazed grin as you push your hips back harder against his thrusts, overpowering his control over you.
He swallows thickly, groaning through the building sensation in his stomach as you rock back onto his cock faster and with the purpose of taking him down and winning. The both of you work in tandem as you writhe against each other in a battle to reach the end, unsure of if you’re with him or against him but gods, it feels so fucking good being under him.
“M’so close…Don’t fucking stop,” you shudder, and Luke shuts his eyes hard and takes a deep breath. Even if all 12 Olympians came down right now to smite him he wouldn’t be able to pull out.
So he doesn’t.
He couldn’t even if he tried—he cums so hard, his front meeting your back as you fall into the sand with a muffled yelp and he’s pumping thick rods of his release into your pussy. You shiver under him slightly until you realize your belly is warm from his efforts.
“That’s gotta be like 5 or 10 points,” Luke pants, nipping at your shoulder before he sits up. You’re laying there, ass up and motionless so he slaps a cheek before you start laughing.
“For me. At least you came,” you drone, having been on the brink of an orgasm.
He couldn’t argue with that. So he flips you onto your back and eats you out (sand and slick and all) until he’s ready again and by the time the morning bell rings, you’ve both lost track of who’s won your so-called competition.
#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆。°✩#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan smut#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#made by ma1dita ♥︎
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Would they help with your period?
Written by someone with severe endometriosis!
(Technically I don't think sinners have them anymore since they can't reproduce but who knows. Maybe having a period for eternity is part of being punished.)
Lucifer
Absolutely. If we go off of Biblical Lore, it's kinda his fault anyway, and he feels so guilty.
He probably radiates heat so he would absolutely rub your back, your stomach, your thighs, resting a hand between your legs (me personally having endometriosis my groin itself tends to hurt from cramping so I put the heat pad between my legs).
Don't bother getting out of bed if you're hurting. He'll bring hou whatever you want and does his best to stock up on your favorites for this time of the month. If you're someone who can't eat cuz your period hurts so bad, he'll try his best to find soft, easy on the tummy foods. Makes you broth if nothing else.
If you sleep a lot because you're weak from blood loss, he makes sure you're not disturbed and checks on you often. Isn't offended if you don't want cuddles or if you demand them. Whatever makes you feel better.
If sex helps he'll do it but is gonna be so fucking worried he's hurting you more. Probably doesn't want to actually fuck you cuz he thinks it's too rough. Will finger you or offer oral.
Alastor
Has a soft spot for women cuz of his mama. If you're someone who has regular cycles he doesn't do much beyond making sure you're eating well and staying hydrated. May bring you medicine if you're especially sore. Makes sure you always have supplies.
If you're someone with severely debilitating periods, he has nothing but respect for you. Especially knowing you'd still work through the pain and have before. Though the gentelman in him is disgusted by how your pain is brushed aside.
Once he gets an idea of how bad they are, you're not leaving his room. He cooks a lot of iron rich food (thankfully Rosie gets him high quality meat, just don't ask where it came from). If your cramps are so bad you throw up, he cleans you up, makes bone broth, and rubs your stomach.
Blood literally doesn't even make him blink so if tanpons or a cup are too uncomfortable while you're cramping and pads chafe you and you don't wanna get period underwear or ruin an old pair of underwear just...don't bother? He can get new sheets. And he doesn't sleep anyway.
I personally think while Alastor is asexual he doesn't mind his partner being sexual, he understands. So if you masturbating helps with cramps, go ahead. He may or may not be willing to help you out (he will lick your blood off his fingers, though).
Sits with you while you rest. Speaks French to you. Sometimes indulges you by using his Cajun accent. If it helps keep your mind off your pain.
Overall he's supportive and admires you but isn't as over the top as Lucifer.
Vox
Vox is pretty good about not letting the time period he came from affect his views much. He's a modern man, after all. Be gay, do crime, live laugh, arson, all that jazz. So while he doesn't necessarily downplay your period it is kind of a knowledge gap for him.
It takes him a while to catch on to how much pain you're in. Actually it takes you doubling over, falling to your knees, white as a sheet, and dizzy for him to go "oh shit".
He feels bad for not realizing how serious it was but man would rather lose a fight to Alastor than admit he was wrong, so the best you're gonna get is "why didn't you tell me, doll?"
Takes you to bed immediately and straight up asks what you need. You get headaches, boom blackout curtains. You can't eat, ok he's ordering soup, crackers, granola bars, jello, anything soft and easy to digest. All the water and juice you could want to put in a mini fridge by your bed so you stay hydrated and get calories.
Heating pads, extra blankets, pads, tampons, period underwear, a new cup, whatever the hell you want. (Absolutely you have to send him a picture of the exact kind of pad or tampon otherwise he's going to be confused cuz there's literally dozens of them and he doesn't know what any of it means. Is a hey babe what size pussy you wear guy).
He checks on you throughout the day with his cameras.
Appreciates that you still try and work from your laptop or phone. Won't tell you not to even if you're miserable. He expects you to know your limits (even though you nearly fainted earlier).
He runs warm and is kinda heavy since he's robotic so if the only thing that makes your ovaries stop throbbing is pressure and heat and he's not busy he'll lay across you to do his work.
Also not icked out by blood so he'll fuck you, finger you, or eat out when you're on your period. But he's a little more hesitant to wat you out cuz he doesn't want the mess on his screen.
Valentino
Honestly his first response is to ask if sex will help. Just wants to get this over with.
If he likes you or you're his favorite, he'll bring you your favorite treats.
Already has pads, tampons, sponges, and underwear on set.
If you didn't know, adult actors have special sponges that go up there for the time of the month for filming, and they can get stuck. So he would help you get it out. At least there's that.
If you actually do pass out even if he's in a really bad mood, he'd feel a little bad. He kinda thought you were being a little dramatic. He gets they hurt and make you tired or bitchy, didn't realize it could actually get that bad. He lets you take the week off after that and checks in on you a bit more.
Don't expect too much coddling though.
Angel Dust
A gay bestie. Makes jokes about how he's glad he doesn't have one and won't ever be near one, but really, he's worried af.
Does his best to make sure you get plenty of rest and food. Keeps you hydrated. Buys you whatever you need.
Has Cherri stay with you when he can't.
Lots of cuddles from him and fat nuggets. And back rubs.
You need to cum to help the cramps, he can get you any kind of vibrator or pump you want discreetly.
(Or you know, he can call Cherri).
Husk
Man doesn't even question it when you say it's bad. He knows you aren't the type to exaggerate.
I head canon he was in the military (drafted) so he's pretty methodical about getting suppplies. Has a fucking checklist. Keeps some on him at all times too just in case.
Another who will lay on top of you for warmth and weight. Added benefit is he purrs. The cat tendencies also means he makes biscuits, so he's good for a massage.
Doesn't really like blood on his fur. He fights yeah, but tries to avoid getting bloody (may have some ptsd about it. Especially if it's all over his hands). But if it helps then yeah he'll fuck you. No oral and no fingering though.
Because of his military background he knows not eating isn't good for you, especially if you're bleeding, so he'd be forcing liquids and the BRAT diet into you. (Banana, rice, applesauce, toast).
Adam
Good luck, honey. Man never bothered to learn biology. Dick goes in hole, woman make baby. That's his knowledge. Eve used to bitch about it a lot but he was bitter about getting kicked out so kinda figured it's her own fault.
Eve also never literally passed out, spent three days sleeping, and threw up everything she ate.
Kinda worries you're somehow dying. Like damn babe, your pussy can't be that broken. When he sees how much blood you're losing is when he actually starts to panic.
You or Lute have to walk him through it but even then it's gonna boil down to him buying you chocolate, a heating pad, pain pills, and offering to snuggle.
DO NOT ASK HIM TO BUY YOU PADS OR TAMPONS.
He's kinda chubby and warm so good for snuggles but will bitch if you get blood on him.
Also, as much as he's horny and usually into everything once, he's kinda grossed out so he's not touching you while you're bleeding. Maybe eventually and with a couple layers of condom he'd fuck you? But uh...yeah, not happening anytime soon.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel valentino#vox x reader#alastor x reader#adam x reader#lucifer x reader
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“𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 ()𝗋𝗈𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖺 𝗓𝗈𝗋𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝘔)
𝖲𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌;You know that Zoro's hygiene has been, to put it lightly, lax. You decide that enough is enough, and with a little encouragement from Nami, you decide that there's only one option to convince him. Shower sex.
It’s been 6 days. You think to yourself with a small shudder. The first few days, you almost don’t mind. It’s kinda sexy, the musty scent. It’s a reminder of the hard work that he puts himself through daily. And of course, the visual benefits of that work are certainly worth a mild stench. But 6 days? It’s beyond a mild stench now. It’s a fucking identity trait. You’d only been together for a couple months, so you don’t exactly know what the proper way to bring up this kind of shit. Like “hey babe, I’d love to really take a trip to the bone zone and all, but if we do right now, Brook isn’t gonna be the only dead one on the ship.” Even if you did say that, he’d be so confused, the adorable idiot, and probably pretty dejected too. You sigh, squeezing your eyes closed and press your fingertips to your temples.
“I’m just gonna have to manipulate the poor boy.” You decide out loud, having no idea how to manage that.
“Who are we manipulating?” Nami pops her head in the room with a sly grin. You nod your head in a greeting to her.
“Zoro,” you say with exasperation. “To take a shower.”
Nami laughs loudly. “Good fucking luck,” she’s almost crying with how hard she’s laughing. “I’ve been barking up that tree since the literal day I met him.”
This is not what you needed to hear. You groan and flop back on your mattress, clapping your hand over your eyes. After another few moments of laughing, you feel Nami sit next to you on the edge of the bed.
“Y/n, the answer is obvious.”
You raise an eyebrow and glance up at through the parted fingers over your eyes. “Oh?” You ask.
“Shower sex, duh.” Nami replies, sticking her tongue out at you with a wink.
You flush. Goddamn it. You think. Seductive manipulation is not precisely your forte. Especially with someone as completely dense as Zoro. In some ways, Zoro is one of the most intelligent people you know. He’s instinctual, able to observe his environment, adaptable and cunning in a fight. But with other people? That he actually likes? Let’s just say the wheel is spinning, but the hamster’s dead. Very dead.
“I was afraid of this,” you say gravely.
Nami rolls her eyes. “Christ, y/n. You’re acting like it’s such a chore to have sex with your boyfriend.”
“UGH.” You throw a pillow at her, and she cackles again as she stands up to walk towards the door.
“You’re a true champ, y/n. From all of us Straw-hat Pirates, we thank you for your service.” She salutes, dodging another pillow that you chuck her direction as she walks out the door.
As you sit on the edge of your bed, you grab the last pillow left and shove it into your face, letting it stifle the almost inhuman, frustrated screech that rips through your throat. The sound dissipates, and you stand up, heading up to the Crow’s Nest, where you know the smelly swordsman will be. Nami and Robin snicker at you as you pass and you flip them off crudely. You climb up the ladder to the Crow’s Nest and open the hatch, pulling yourself inside.
You smell him before you can see him.
Why am I doing this to myself? Why?
You turn towards the sound of heavy breathing and you see Zoro, in all his bare-chested glory, doing one-armed hand stand push-ups while he used the free arm to curl a massive dumbbell.
Oh yeah, that’s why.
His back is to you, so you’re able to watch the muscles of his back and shoulders ripple beneath his tanned skin effortlessly. He’s taken his long green coat off, leaving him in only his pants and boots. You can see droplets of sweat dripping down his back, each bead following a different muscular curve. He makes soft grunting noises with each rep and you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and your heart race. You clear your throat softly, hoping to gain his attention. He doesn’t turn, only switching the role of each arm.
So, you try again, this time a bit louder. You watch him stiffen at the disturbance, his head shooting up between his arms to look at the intruder. His steely eyes meet yours and soften, along with his body and he gives you a grin, clearly pleased to see you. He pushes himself up and flips upright to land on his feet before turning to greet you.
“Hey y/n,” He smiles again and grabs a towel off a rack to wipe his face and hair.
He begins to walk toward you and you almost forget your mission. He looks so handsome, especially with that wide grin that he typically only reserves for you. His green hair is damp, making it a slightly darker shade than usual, and he drapes the towel over the back of his neck. He halts in front of you, his hands moving to grip each end of the towel casually. “What’s up?” He says.
You realize you haven’t taken a breath for a few moments, and you inhale to reply to him. Rookie mistake.
The smell of him hits you again, and you cough without warning. Shit, you think. Don’t screw around, y’n. Get this damn mosshead in the shower with you pronto.
“Hey,” You reply, forcing yourself into a smile. “Just came up here to check on you. How are you doing?”
He smiles again, the oblivious bastard. “Oh, okay. I’m fine. Just doing the usual,” he replies. “Shit, your face had me going for a second. I thought something might be wrong,”
He chuckles. You pause a beat too long. He notices. Fuck.
“…is there something wrong, y/n?” He asks, now somewhat nervous.
“Oh no!” You say too quickly. “No, no, nothing’s wrong. I just came up here because…”
You know you need to calm down if you’re going to attempt anything that mildly looks like seduction. You take a breath and drop your gaze, now looking at him from underneath your eyelashes flirtatiously.
“I came up here because I was about to take a shower...” You place a hand on his warm chest and push up to the shell of his ear. You lower your voice. “And I was wondering if you might want to join me?”
You feel him stiffen again beneath the hand on his chest and his breath hitch. His hands come up to lightly grip your hips.
“You what?” He asks, his voice suddenly a little rougher.
You kiss the soft skin just beneath his angled jaw. “Join me. In the shower.” You repeat.
His grip on your hips tightens for a second before he grabs your hand suddenly, pulling you towards the hatch of the Crow’s Nest. It’s so fast that you almost can’t process what’s happening. He opens the hatch with his foot.
“Oh, so you want to come?” You manage. He swoops you up into his arms and jumps down the hatch without regard to the ladder. You land firmly on the deck below and he doesn’t bother to set you down.
“Zoro?” You ask, mesmerized by the concentration on his face. He shifts to hold you with one arm as he opens the door to the bath house room, slamming it behind him. He sets you down and wraps strong arms around your waist, kissing your neck.
“Get in the shower. Now.” He commands. Internal screams. And in that moment, as the water turns on and your simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette quickly strips away the rest of his clothes, you don’t know what you’re more excited about, the amazing sex that you’re about to have, or the fact that the simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette is finally going to be fucking clean.
“Get in the shower. Now.” Zoro commands.
Holy shit, you think. If I’d known this would be the reaction, I’d’ve done it ages ago.
Zoro can barely keep his hands off of you, only pausing for a brief moment to reach behind him and turn on the faucet. His calloused fingers roam your clothed body, and you instinctively arch into him. He hums with approval. His lips, hungry for contact, pepper your jaw and neck with affection. You sigh and push closer, only slightly embarrassed when you feel him smirk against your skin. He knows you want him. The knot low in your stomach confirms this. His hands grip your ass, pulling your hips together, and you feel that he wants you too. Through the rough material of his pants, you feel his insistent desire and you can’t help but moan quietly. This elicits a moan from the greenette as well, his head falling to your shoulder, and you pull yourself out of your depravity long enough to feel smug.
“A bit excited are we?” You tease in a whisper.
He growls and pulls your shirt off of your shoulder to bite your collarbone. “Did you not hear me the first time?” His hands go to the waistband of your shorts. “Get. In. The. Shower.”
Your vaingloriousness quickly falls to the wayside as he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down swiftly along with your underwear. You feel a rush of heat over your body and your urgency now matches his. Deftly, your fingers do away with his pants and boxers as one of his hands now gropes your naked ass. The other, ever more impatient, moves to the nape of your neck and the collar of your shirt. All of your attention, by necessity, is on getting him naked, so you almost don’t notice the rip of fabric being torn from your body until you feel your nipples suddenly harden with exposure to the air in the room.
You mewl as the steam fills up the small cubicle. He doesn’t give you any more time. He lifts you up. “Wrap your legs around me.” It isn’t a question. You comply. With a moan, you feel your core tighten as another flood of wetness seeps out of your pussy.
He groans too. “Fuck,” He can feel your wetness against the base of his cock. He steps the two of you into the shower.
The heat of the water is only matched by the heat between the two of you. Your legs, already wobbly, drop to the floor as he pushes you against the wall, the water streaming down his back as he leans back to look at you. Zoro is sex personified. It’s almost too overwhelming to take in all at once. His breathing is ragged. Your eyes and hands devour his broad chest, feeling each hard plane and individually curated muscle. His hair, now saturated with water, has evolved from its usual hue to a deep jewel toned emerald. His jaw is tight, but his full lips are parted with anticipation. His silver eyes, intense and hooded, bore through you, disarming you with their fervor.
He can’t take it anymore.
His lips crush to yours and you groan loudly against his mouth. One of his hands tangles through your hair, holding your mouth exactly where he wants it. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, and you gladly open your mouth for his perusal. His other hand moves to your full breast, massaging it roughly for a moment before he deftly flicks his thumb over your erect nipple. You squirm under his touch. He hums because he knows you love when he plays with your tits. Your hand drifts down to his length, gently caressing the skin there.
“Y/n,” He breathes, ripping his mouth from yours as you wrap your delicate fingers around the base of his cock. The water, hot and unrelenting, streams down your arm as you do so, and you sigh at the warmth of the contact. You’ve always been impressed by every part of Zoro, and his penis was no exception. You marvel at his thick length like it’s the first time you’ve ever been blessed with the opportunity to touch such a monument of masculine sexuality.
As you continue your ministrations, his lips trail down your neck and collarbone slowly, all the way to the height of your breast. He intentionally avoids your sensitive peak, and you squeeze his cock lightly as if to say, no fair. The hand in your hair moves to your hip.
He chuckles and slowly, painfully, flicks his tongue over your nipple. Once, twice, three times, before he begins to swirl it around the area. And to make matters worse, he mirrors his movements on your other breast with his opposite hand. He is playing dirty.
Dirtier than he is after 6 days without a shower, you think sarcastically to yourself.
He interrupts your thought by suddenly taking your erect peak into his mouth and sucking harshly. Your other hand immediately shoots grip to his green tresses, urging his mouth to continue. You begin to pant, the steam from the shower making the air thick and hot and damp. You feel the hand that was on your hip suddenly playing around the edges of your wet folds. He starts with your inner thighs, only his pinky brushing up against your aching core. You begin to pump him faster, moving to play with his balls every so often. Though he is trying to remain composed, his ragged breathing gives him away and his patience with teasing you begins to slip. Zoro’s thumb begins to rub your clit while his fingers move to your dripping opening.
Despite his own almost unbearable desire, he can’t resist taunting you a little. He pulls his mouth away from your breast to look at you. “Is that the shower I’m feeling, or are you really this wet, y/n?”
You see the cocky glint his eye and you want to wipe that smirk right off his face. Without warning, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, hoisting yourself up to hover right above his stiff cock. Though he is taken off guard, he does not falter as he reflexively moves his hands to catch you. His strong hands hold you up under your ass as his mouth falls open slightly in surprise. He had enough strength for the both of you, and he holds you up with ease, keeping his balance and ensuring your safety as well.
You raise an eyebrow and tease your wet opening over his hard cock. You envelope the very tip of him, groaning as you feel him already stretching you. You both shiver with the promise of what is to come. Or who, is to come.
“Goddamn it, y/n, I can’t take it anymore,” He growls and slams you down onto him, immediately filling you to the hilt. The fullness nearly overwhelms you, your sight momentarily leaving you as you feel every thick inch of him against your inner walls. One strong arm wraps around the small of your back as he continues to hold you up. You love that he doesn’t need the wall for support, and your hand goes to grope his muscular shoulder and bicep in appreciation of his power.
Zoro, as with everything he does, is always intense in sex, and this time is no exception. The concentration is palpable on his face, a small v creasing between his eyebrows. His face is contorted in pleasure and a groan rumbles through his chest. His jaw is tight but his mouth is soft as he begins to thrust roughly into you.
“Oh God, Zoro,” You head lolls back, exposing your neck to him. He seizes the opportunity to begin kissing your neck and jaw, whispering your name again and again each iteration a little more wild, a little more broken. His cock feels incredible inside of you, the angle of each thrust stroking that undeniable pleasure point. The scene is entirely erotic. It’s all too much—far too much.
Each thrust is punctuated by a moan and the slapping of wet skin to wet skin. You feel Zoro’s body stiffen and you know that he’s getting close. The tell-tale build in your own core reflects the sentiment. With each stroke, you climb higher and higher and higher until your ecstasy is inexorable.
“Z-Zoro…” You manage with a gasp. “I’m about t-to…” He growls and his thrusts become even more wild—hard, manic, sure. Your lips find his ear and you gently tug on his earrings with your teeth, your last conscious action before your climax overtakes you. This is Zoro’s undoing.
“Y/n!” He yells, and you feel his seed spill hot inside of you.
You drown together in your pleasure, the waves crashing over both of you relentlessly. When your body is spent, you crumble against his chest and he wraps both of his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head, and rubs your back affectionately as he whispers your name under the still warm water. After a few moments, he sets you down. He offers his arm for stability and you take it with gratitude, leaning against him for another few moments before you separate. He smiles lazily down at you, almost bashful at his display. He rubs his free hand against the back of his neck, a slight flush on his face. You grin back and grab the bottle of soap from behind him and place it in his hand.
“Now,” You say after a long moment. “Get clean, marimo.”
He narrows his eyes. “You tricked me,” He says knowingly.
You grab your own body wash and begin to lather up. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
He stares for another long moment, considering, before he finally shrugs and squeezes some soap out onto his hands and begins to do the same.
You smile and kiss his cheek.
“Honestly,” He says, that grin creeping back on his face. “If this is what showering is going to be like with you around, I’ll shower every goddamn day.”
#one piece#opla zoro#ronoroa zoro#x reader#zoro x reader#one piece zoro#zoro x y/n#roanoa zoro#zoro smut#zoro#zoro x oc
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✩‧₊˚ first time with him. | m!rover headcanons.
⋆.˚ ⁀➴ synopsis: it's just you and rover alone...so what's it like when things escalate between you two for the first time?
⋆.˚ ⁀➴ characters involved: male rover, gender neutral reader.
⋆.˚ ⁀➴ warnings: sub!rover, dom!reader, very soft first time, gentle, lots of praise, handjob (sub receiving)
⋆.˚ ⁀➴ notes: sub rover is literally something that infects my brain and i'm happy to let it do so. this is self-indulgent, being soft with subs is my achilles heel > <;;!! hope you all enjoy this as much as i like fantasizing about it! requests are open as always, please read rules before sending them in!
⋆.˚ ⁀➴ minors dni with this post/blog.
୨⎯ male rover ⎯୧
a pretty sub, both in looks and in how he sounds.
nervous, about to explode from how anxious he is at the prospect of you two going at it together for the first time.
worries that he'll do something wrong, so his touches are shaky and a little hesitant.
a bit shy, needs your guidance in order to help him understand the flow of it all.
a praise fiend, loves hearing that he’s doing a good job from you and how cute you think he looks when he’s in this state.
the briefest of touches sometimes can rile him up easily.
going on the running theory that tacet marks are sensitive, he’ll whimper whenever your hand brushes against his, feeling his cheeks flush hot.
it’s the smallest of things for him that get him worked up. a soft kiss on his jawline down to the nape of his neck, the way you nibble his ear, the way your hand is gently rubbing circles on his hip bone, goodness he’s going to burst.
has the cutest gasps. he’s always surprised by what you do, no matter what it is.
by the time you actually get to his length, he’s already dripping from his pretty pink tip. he’ll whine and squirm, begging you to help him finish, help him release, help him with the mess you created.
rover glances down at you with his golden eyes, gasping softly as he sits on your lap and grips onto your shoulders. he’s becoming undone by the second at every tease, every soft graze, every sweet nothing you whisper into his ear. he feels as if he’s going to go insane at this point, whimpering cutely as you gently grab his shaft into your hand. you lean your head a bit to the side, stretching a bit and kissing his tacet mark softly, which earns another small whine from him.
“p-please, you can’t, i-i can’t do this, i need, i need…” he trails off, cut off by a soft moan as he leans forward and hides his face in the nape of your neck. it's a dizzying feeling, having you touch him like this. his legs are shaking, his pale white thighs on either side of your waist as he hiccups. rover can hear you smile when you talk to him, babying him through everything.
“what do you need, pretty rover?~ use your words, sweetheart.” augh, there you go again with another compliment. he whines a bit, feeling a bit overwhelmed as he tears up.
“p-please, i need you. i need to cum, i-i’ve been so good haven’t i?” he’ll ask, his voice soft and hoarse as you hum for a moment. he takes your silence as a no sign, but when he suddenly feels you picking up the pace, he’ll suddenly get louder and more vocal. rover’s grip on you becomes harder as he bucks his hips a bit, moving with the motions of your hands to reach his climax faster. but, he doesn’t release until you let him by whispering into his ear that he can. he’s obedient after all, and he would hate to cum without your permission.
he lets out one last high pitched whine before he cums, making a mess on his stomach and yours, the pretty white seed spewing everywhere. rover’s breathing is staggered and shaky right after, hiding in your neck. he feels embarrassed when he feels your fingers brushing up against his soft tummy, whining softly as he hears you lick some of his cum onto your finger and exaggerate the noise of you tasting it.
“you taste so sweet, rover~ you did such a good job for me.” you tell him, gently rubbing his back and coaxing him down from the high as he loosens up his hold a bit, clinging onto you cutely like a koala as he feels his breathing slowly steady out. he felt as if he just went to the divine and back, and it leaves him wondering when the next time will be.
#he'll be the death of me.#wuwa#wuthering waves#wuthering waves rover#rover#male rover x reader#wuwa rover x reader#wuthering waves x reader#wuwa x reader#wuwa headcanons#wuthering waves headcanons#wuwa smut#wuthering waves smut#rover x reader#rover x reader smut#rover x reader nsft#sub wuwa x reader#sub rover x reader#sub rover#qi spicy writes
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NSFW Alphabet
Laios Touden from Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon
let's go lol
afab reader guys
A - Aftercare. what're they like after sex?
- this man is so fucking sweet with you. whether you were the one taking control or you were the one on the bottom, he's quick to comfort you. he has an entire mental checklist for after you two are done.
one, he immediately starts cleaning you up, whether it's with his tongue or with an actual wash cloth. regardless, you two are going in the shower.
he cleans you up, asks if you want to eat anything, (you usually say no out of wanting to sleep- but either way he'll be stirring something up in the kitchen after massaging you down and crooning you to sleep.)
B - Body part. their favorite part of you and themselves.
- laios loves literally ANYTHING about you. he holds all parts of you dearly to his heart and to memory. though, he loves sliding his hands up your shirt to cup your tits if his hands are cold.
bonus points if that turns into something more.
he often finds himself tweaking with your nipples as well, as if testing their perkiness with a light flick. they're so warm and sensitive, he just can't help it.
same thing with your ass or your stomach, though. he'll rest his hands over your abdomen, letting his fingertips delve under the waistband of your panties. he doesn't mean to tease- usually. he just loves how warm you are.
oh and before i forget- he really likes thigh jobs.
his favorite part about himself is probably his hands. he likes how agile they can be, and with some time and practice, he knows how to make you tick easily with just a couple of fingers.
C - Cum. literally anything to do with cum in general. what's the taste and consistency of theirs, do they like the taste of yours? this one's free game.
- it really depends on what position you guys are in or what you two just engaged in.
doggystyle? he's busting all over your back, sorry bout it. missionary? he's glossing it all over your sloppy clit if it's not already drilled into you.
if, in the scenario that he ends up face fucking you, he'll softly grab your head by your hair, his other hand holding his cock as he smears it allll over your face. he loves how it looks.
his cum tastes REALLLL salty. it melts over your tongue when you lap it off of him, and he cums a fair bit. not too much, not too little.
yours usually gets everywhere. he likes burying his head against the pudge on your stomach and scissoring it out of you with his fingers- just to see how wet you've gotten.
he's proud of himself for pushing you over the edge as many times as he did.
also, since we all know this man is a professional pussy eater, he enjoys the taste too.
D - Dirty Secret. what's something dirty that they've done that'll come to light during sex?
- laios is an open book. everything that comes to light during sex is usually expected.
what can he say? he's a simple man.
E - Experience. how experienced are they?
- he's inexperienced. no experience, like at all. it's not like he hasn't been exposed to it and that he's clueless about everything- but he hadn't done it with anyone before. he often fantasized about losing his first time to you, though.
luckily he did.
F - Favorite Position. how do they like to take you?
- he's not picky. any position really works, but prone bone is probably his favorite. (eugh the name sounds so unappealing.). it's something about the way he's pressed up so tightly against you, how your legs kick up and flail while he humps his hips down against your ass.
he can't help it- you sound so cute getting pumped full in this position! he can't be mean to you through his words, he's too soft for you, but damn, he'll express it through his thrusts. you can tell he's close when his hips are dragging against your bruised ass, his heavy torso slabbed on your back.
he starts whining a lot, a free hand parting your hair out of your face as he starts incoherently rambling about how good you feel.
he loves that position a little too much.
(bonus! he also adores the cowgirl position, only when he's sitting up though so he can shove his head in your tits.)
G - Goofy. are they more serious in the moment, or more relaxed and humorous?
- laios is such a big goofball and uses humor often in his day to day life when things get a bit serious.
when you two are doing it, that doesn't really change much. he finds himself falling into it though, he's so lovey dovey that he can't help it.
he talks a lot throughout it, whether he's in that headspace where he's so into it that everything's just pooling out of him, or whether he's chuckling at the way you frown at his fingers moving a bit too slow for you.
tldr; he's a bit goofy.
H - Hair. how well groomed are they?
- he does trim it up a bit here and there, but he never just shaves it all off. it's there for a reason, right? plus, don't think he doesn't notice how your eyes trail down the light dusting of hair that disappears under the band of his boxers.
he's been walking around shirtless way more since he last caught that.
I - Intimacy. what're they like during it? romantically.
- he's so sweet. when he's really deep in, his palms meet your face and your eyes meet his. they're so foggy- but so full of love, if he had a tail, it would be wagging.
he can only nuzzle into your neck and trail sloppy kisses all over you, can only murmur and pant into your ear about how much he loves you, how kind you are and how pretty you look.
he's shamelessly rutting into you, parted lips coated with drool as he huffed into your ear.
"s-ooo pretty..."
he's a lover boy <3
J - Jack off. masturbation hcs.
- he hates it when you're away for long. having you in his vicinity is enough for his needs to go back to normal. but when you're away, he gets incredibly lonely sometimes, and eventually- horny.
he doesn't use your panties to masturbate. he uses that one shirt of his that you basically stole from his closet. he finds it so attractive when you wear his clothes, especially if you wear nothing underneath 'em.
if you're around and he gets the occasional bulge in his pants, he'll just nestle up besides you and press his nose against the shell of your ear, a hand on your hip and the other on your inner thigh.
"can i...get a little bit of help?"
K - Kink. what are they into? what kinks do they have alongside the skeletons in their closet?
- okay, we all already know he has a food kink, that's common knowledge. honey, frosting, whip-cream, maybe melted chocolate, just pour it all over. not too much though, he might need it later.
he likes it when you cry, though, as weirdly out of character that might sound.
in the sense that you're crying out of pure pleasure. it's so much that tears are slipping out of your eyes and running down your face. you're not crying because you're upset, or that something bad happened, you're just crying because you're being stuffed so good right now.
also...okay, maybe a slight breeding kink. very slight. he's kept it from you, but he's obsessed with the idea of having kids with you. he wants to be the best father there is, in comparison to how shit his father treated him. and he sees you as the perfect match for it.
he always did want his own family, so if you'll allow a creampie here and there- he'll be the happiest man in the world.
L - Location. favorite places to get down n dirty???
- he's not a public place typa guy, you'll have to get him REALLY excited for him to get horny enough to fuck you somewhere even semi-public.
the comfort of your house or his is the best in his eyes- though, one time you guys were out on a date in a wide, open field. the sundress you had on was a bit too tempting, and...
spring showers are always nice, right?
M - Motivation. what turns him on? what gets him going?
- over in the jack off section i noted that he loves it when you wear his clothes, right? well, yeah. pull on one of his shirts, unbutton it down a little and wear nothing else, that's the cheat code.
he also likes it when you dote on him here n there, fussing over him and coddling. it just shows that you care a lot for him. also shows that you'll be a perfect mother but whatever.
a quick makeout session never fails to rile him up either, the feel of your hands running through his hair, the way your thighs straddle over the fat on his stomach, god, you're perfect.
oh, also, invite him into the shower. he'll DEFINITELY enjoy that.
N - NO. something they wouldn't do.
- okay, he's obviously against literally anything outlandish, like scat play or piss play or whatever. one thing he can't really stomach is the idea of hurting you during it. like, if you ask him to slap you or something. he'll definitely be against the idea for a while until you convince him to try it after more reassurance.
he's also somewhat against gags, he just loves being able to hear you- if you're coherent enough in the first place. he wants to kiss you, slip his tongue in your mouth, hear your moans and pleas, and a gag stops all of that.
O - Oral. do they prefer giving, receiving, what's their skill?
- he's absolutely obsessed with eating you out. the way you hump upwards into his lips, the way your walls clamp and squeeze around his fingers and tongue. even the perspective he's looking at you from is absolutely delightful.
your slickness usually ends up coating a whole lot of his face, from the nose down- and he's hooked. you make the ranking on his top ten favorite things to eat.
sit on this man's face, please. he'll praise you for doing so, especially when you take control and start mindlessly riding and humping down on his lips. get lost in it, truly, he loves it.
he prefers eating you out, but when you decide to go down on him and suck him off, it's almost unfair to pit them against each other- your mouth is amazing.
you do this thing where you lull your tongue over the veins around his frenulum, suckling slowly as you progress down to his balls, taking one into your mouth.
your hands simultaneously jerk at him as you play tricks with your tongue.
the obscene noises clicking out of his throat tells you enough about how he's liking it.
P - Pace. are they fast n rough, or slow and sensual?
- it always depends on how needy either of you get. he likes taking time with you, and will start out slow and and sensual, after all- he doesn't want to hurt you.
but sometimes he finds himself getting a bit too excited. maybe specifically after finding something or experimenting with a flower that's sex pollen adjacent, he'll be all on you the moment he comes home.
if he's been away from home for a while? he's all over you.
and he's usually way faster. instead of being handsy with you and dragging the foreplay out, he's desperate, thumbing your panties to the side and sinking himself into you quickly.
Q - Quickie. how often? how do they feel about them?
- he's not against them, but the only time you guys do quickies is if he's going somewhere soon or you're going somewhere soon. he wants to spend his time with you during sex.
R - Risk. do they like experimenting, or taking risks?
- at first, yeah, he's down. he needs to know what you like to please you, right? he's happy to know what excites you and turns you on. one of the things he's definitely willing to try out is bondage.
he thinks it'd be fun- not just in the sexual aspect.
S - Stamina. how many rounds can he last? what's his stamina like?
- alright, this is where it gets a bit tricky. his stamina is finicky, it depends on how needy he is- so maybe a good 2-3 rounds?
he usually tries his best to keep up with your sex drive, so if you want more, you'll get more.
if he hadn't seen you for like months, expect a solid night of passion, so maybe around 4 rounds?
T - Toys. is he game to use toys? does he own any, does he use them on you?
- he ORIGINALLY didn't have any... the ones he does have are because of you- not that he bought them, but you bought some FOR him.
you will never forget how rosy his cheeks burned when you waved around a strap-on with a smirk on your face.
he'll admit, he was curious. so you two tried it.
best thing ever.
his brain is melting as your hips meet the curve of his ass yet again, the silicone material angling against that weakened spot in his walls.
he clenches his teeth once more, oh, it hurts but it feels like heaven.
he's got an elbow propped up against the mattress, his dominant hand pumping his runny cock with another weak cry.
"wowww, you're dripping everywhere. you really like this, don't you?"
he can only respond with a dry huff, spit dribbling over the plump skin on his bottom lip.
"f-feels soo goooood..."
laios' voice is breaking with each word, poor thing sounds like he's nearly crying.
it brings a new high of excitement to the both of you...and something (laios) tells you this isn't gonna be the last time you use this.
U - Unfair. how often do they tease you?
- often. this is like, one of his favorite things to do. around the house, in the shower, it's insane how badly this man wants you.
while you guys are watching something, he'll pull you onto his lap and let his hands play with you, and sometimes you'll feel a weird poking sensation against your ass and then you connect the dots.
while relaxing, he'll sink his teeth into the soft fat of your thighs- just for fun! he likes biting you, just because you're so warm and any part of you feels perfect against his teeth.
while you're doing anything, he'll wrap his arms over your shoulders and pepper kisses over your head. he just loves touching you, sometimes he means to tease, other times he doesn't.
V - Volume. how loud are they?
- whether he's on bottom or top, he makes quite the bit of noise. let's say that there's a line for volume, like a TV. the middle of the bar, 50, is his normal talking voice. 0 is when he's being silent, and 100 is screaming at the top of his lungs.
if he's on top, he's usually like a 40-45. on bottom? easily a 55-60.
now, if you're pegging him, put his head in a pillow and pray. he's so weak to it, he loses his voice sometimes.
this also depends on where you guys are. is his party around? you'll do whatever you can to muffle his moans, because sometimes he just forgets.
in the safety of your house, though??? yeah, that's a wrap.
W - Wild card. any random head cannon?
- he loves it when you play with his nipples while milking him dry, he effectively turns to mush at the feeling of you tweaking and playing with them whilst sloppily jerking him off or playing with his prostate.
oh, especially if you're sucking on them. he's all yours to play with and he's happy to announce that.
same thing with a blowjob, but when you do this thing where you flicker your tongue against his v-line. it sets him on fire.
X - X-ray. what's going on in those pants?
- his cock is pretty girthy. give or take, maybe 3 inches in circumference? 5 inches soft and 6.5-7.5 inches hard?
it leans to the right a little bit and curves upwards when erect.
hey, it's up to your personal interpretation. 😞
Y - Yearning. how high is their sex drive?
usually not high at all. when you're around, the need for such things can dissipate- for a short amount of time. he doesn't know why, but it's probably because your relationship with him is perfect, there's not much of a need for it.
buuuut, that said, he does enjoy it...a lot.
Z - ZZZ. how quickly do they fall asleep?
- if he successfully satiates your sexual needs and follows through with the usual aftercare, he's out like a log. when you go down on him and he finally cums, he's already dozing off.
on the occasion that you both are lazy and just wanna go to sleep after, he flexes his biceps around you tightly and holds you to his chest whilst rubbing soothing patterns on your back. and you two fall into slumber immediately.
sometimes he finds himself still on top of you and tries to roll off, hoping he wasn't bothering you.
but your body protests. you're quick to pull him back over you, mumbling a lazy 'nuh uh, stay.'
a dopey smile spreads over his lower jaw.
yeah, he's gonna be staying for a loooong time.
-
i really like this one lol ngl lol, uhhh sorry if this is like yk ooc to any of you???
if i read back on this and see any spelling errors i WILL be deleting my entire blog /j
edit: i forgot y. hitting the delete button as we speak
#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#dunmeshi laios#laios touden x reader#laios x reader#laios thorden#laius dungeon meshi#laois#laios dungeon meshi#laios touden#delicious in dungeon laios
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Cali's Kinktober: Day 11
Kinktober Masterlist labor ipse voluptas - “there is pleasure in the work” Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader Kinks > massage, workplace sex acts, edge play, men whimpering Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
Simon has been your massage client for years, but when he comes in with a groin injury, your working relationship becomes much, much different.
Gender-neutral reader, no mention of pronouns or genitalia. Some references to past trauma/violence inspired by canon events.
Sometimes, when you were working your hands over the flesh and bones of Simon Riley, you closed your eyes and used your fingers to know him, pretending that your sight was gone from you, letting the scars and the knots in his muscles tell you his story. It was one you’d read before, rubbing his skin like it was a book of braille, letting each ridge and healed wound speak their lines and expound upon his violent past.
You fanned out your fingers to touch him, wide and spread across his back, rubbing your fine oils into his body and feeling the tension loosen in him as you moved through his pain. You could trace the edges of his old tattoos, finding where the artist dug the needles too deep, black lines that healed through the old, pale cuts.
His left shoulder told you stories about two knife wounds and a bullet that the medics hadn’t bothered to remove. His right arm had a torn extensor tendon, and for him to stretch it all the way out, you needed to coax the bicep above it, pushing and pulling the muscle like you knew he needed you to, reaching deep within him to find the pliant relief he was looking for.
You’d been Simon’s massage therapist for almost five years, and you knew as much about him as he did about you. It was strange; you could talk to each other about the deepest parts of yourselves, the way you thought the world should be, about how far human beings could reach into the universe, about space and time, about the rights and wrongs of society, and yet you knew very little of his actual day to day life.
You knew he was a soldier. He had to tell you that much. When you first saw him lying prone on your table, the blanket covering his ass and not much else, you had to hold your breath to keep from gasping at what you saw. People’s bodies did not disturb you. Wrinkles, acne, hair - it was all just normal humanity. No one was perfect. But, Simon’s body unsettled you. He looked like he’d been through literal hell. Like demons had pierced him with their tridents and burned him with their fire. He’d been shot, stabbed, pierced, bitten, broken, and ruined by war to a particular degree that made you wonder why he hadn’t been retired for these bodily atrocities.
On your first day together, you’d told him point-blank,
“I’d ask if you had any prior injuries, Mr. Riley, but we only have an hour together.”
He chuckled, smiling at you from his raised position on his elbows,
“Fair enough. And, call me Simon, if tha’s alright.”
“That’s alright, Simon. Let’s get to work.”
So, you had. In the beginning, the initial awkwardness of the act of massaging someone was the same as it always was. You got to know his body, his preferences. You knew not to press too hard on his right trapezius unless you wanted a fist to dart out and grip you around the wrist. You also knew that he was a bit vocal. Some of the noises he made for you, particularly when you treated his calves and quads, haunted your dreams in the most lurid way.
But, everything had changed between you when he had come in last week with a sore groin muscle, inside of his right thigh.
“What’s with the limp?” You’d asked him when he walked into the office.
“Trainin’ day gone wrong. Think you can put it right again, love?”
That Manchester accent with the pet name always stuck you right in the belly, but you pretended like it didn’t. You refused to admit you had feelings for your client. It wasn’t professional, and you were one of the best in your field. It was unethical. But, it was hard to convince yourself of that fact when you remembered how he groaned for you when you relaxed his clenched hamstring a few months ago and he’d cried into the terrycloth face pillow,
“Mngh! Tha’s good, love. Fuck, tha’s it.”
That one was on repeat in your head.
Today, you gave him some time to get set up in the room, giving him specific instructions to lie on his back first so that you could treat the affected area. You weren’t shy about a little upper thigh, and you’d touched Simon Riley in just about every way possible by now. It’d be old hat. Right?
Wrong.
You’d started on his quad, warming up the muscle to your touch, filling your hands with oil so that they would slip across his hairy skin. But, he’d stopped you, grimacing and grunting through his teeth,
“It’s higher. Fuck me, it stings.”
“Can you point to the pain?” You watched as he moved the thin sheet up and over his hip, trying to shield his cock from you while showing you where he was injured.
His hand was rubbing down his adductor brevis, the innermost part of his thigh, a muscle that led right to the join of where his leg became crotch.
“I see. Can you turn your knee out?”
“No,” he growled, obviously trying to hold his pain at bay.
“Alright,” you reassured him, “It’s okay like this. Just… tell me if I touch you where you aren’t comfortable.”
“I just need you to bloody touch me, love. I’ll take anythin’ you got at this point.”
You looked down at his leg, and then you looked at his cock and balls hidden by the sheet. Back to the leg. Back to his cock.
Stop it! Stop. Don’t look at it. You punished yourself, but that only made you want to look at it again.
If you didn’t start massaging him, he was going to know you were nervous, and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, so you poured more oil into your hand and started at the lowest possible point before gently working your way up the muscle.
The noise that came out of him was downright pornographic.
“Are… are you alright, Simon?” You asked, stopping to let him recover.
He nodded, biting down on his fist to stop himself from crying out again.
You repeated the movement. Another delicious grumble came rolling out of his chest. He was breathing hard, and you could see his enormous core flexing and expanding under the stress.
You moved your hand back and forth over the muscle, working it over and over, feeling the tension loosen under your touch. But, as he became more and more pain free, his body started to get worked up in a different sort of way.
You’d tried to stay away from the sheet, but there was only so much room down there, and his giant prick was hanging against your wrist as you rubbed him. It wasn’t his fault. He’d covered himself. There really wasn’t anything wrong, per se. It was just a body part. But, it gave him away.
By the time he had relief in his muscle, his immense rod was standing at full attention, erect and joyful in your ministrations. He was so big that he was tugging the sheet from the other side of the table, lolling up his abdomen and reaching much higher than his navel.
The sheet was doing very little to protect his modesty.
“Does that feel better, Simon?” You asked, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.
“Aye, love. Feels fuckin’ brilliant. Little higher, yeah?”
He still hadn’t opened his eyes, and if he knew he was hard, he didn’t apologize for it. If you moved your hands higher, you’d be pressing into his pubic mound, basically massaging the base of his cock. So, you moved just the smallest bit higher, trying your best to avoid his fully hard dick.
“Mmfff-fuck. Tha’s so good.”
You couldn’t stop staring at him while you rubbed his groin. Every time you pulled the muscle, his cock would flag, and every time you pushed back up, kneading him and helping him relax, his blood would pump through his shaft, making him throb. It was intoxicating.
Then, you noticed that he had stopped making noises. You looked up and, to your horror, he was watching you gaze longingly at his phallus, like you were a dog starving for a bone.
You looked away, quickly finding a spot on the floor, but it was too late.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His eyes locked onto yours and he took your hand in his gently, and slowly dragged it up the body of his cock all the way to the swollen head. Then, he put his hands back at his sides and settled in, looking just as neutral as he usually did when you prepared to massage any other part of him.
Was he really asking you to do this? Were you seriously about to give Simon a happy ending in a professional massage office?
He felt your hesitation, and he smiled at you,
“Go on, love. Touch me how you need to touch me.”
You rubbed more oil on your hands and turned down the sheet, tucking it away as if you were exposing an arm or leg or some other appendage, trying to be as professional as you could despite the fact that you were about to do an incredibly heinous thing.
But, you desperately wanted to touch him, and you didn’t think you’d have another chance. He’d probably never want to make an appointment here again. So, you decided to seize the moment.
You started at his base, massaging the pubic mound around his cock, the tendons and flesh that supported his length, and then you moved to the bottom of his shaft. Carefully, you moved your thumbs over his wide shaft, making small circles of firm pressure, feeling the tension throbbing inside of him as you began to touch him there.
Then, his moans. But, they were softer this time. It was a side of him you never got to see, an ultimate vulnerability. He was trusting you more now than he ever had.
You moved up his shaft in a methodical way, telegraphing your movements, making sure he knew where you were going to touch him next. No surprises.
Finally, you made it all the way up to his cockhead. You spent plenty of time rubbing your fingertips over his sensitive frenulum, touching the crown only when you knew he was ready, smearing your oil over his foreskin and pulling it down to reveal his swollen glans.
He hissed, so sensitive under your touch. You paused, speaking low and even, trying to make your voice sound calm,
“Everything alright, Simon?”
“Mm, fuckin’ hell, too good.”
“Remember to take long, deep breaths. It helps release any tension you might be experiencing,” you teased him with your therapy voice, trying to get a rise out of him more than you already had.
He looked down at you, incredulous, and then cocked a grin when he saw that you were playing with him.
You rubbed his full length, clasping both of your hands around him and stroking him from base to tip and back again. Never too fast, never too slow; you always went at the exact speed that caused him to throb, knowing that you were milking him just on the edge of pleasure. If you went faster or gripped him harder, he would come, and you weren’t ready for that yet. So, you edged him, knowing his tells, listening to the timbre of his moans. You’d had five years to listen to this man when he found physical relief, so you used it against him.
Just when he would get close, you’d return to his base, making circles in his lower abdomen, ignoring his sensitive cock, listening to him chuff and growl in frustration. But, he didn’t ask. Never did he put his desire into words. It would make it real. It would ruin the moment. Right now, you could both still pretend that he was getting a massage.
You made your way back up, toying with him, bringing him moaning and whimpering back to the edge before sending him away again, dragging him back down in a torrent of huffing breaths and a furrowed brow. Then, you let go of him entirely, covering him back up with the sheet and stepping away from the table.
“Love, please…” He whined aloud, his voice demonically fractured and deep, resonating in his chest, staring up at you like you’d stuck him with your own blade, an unexpected betrayal.
“I’m afraid our time is up, Simon.”
“Like hell it is,” he grunted, leaping up from the table and towering over you.
“Your injury seems to have responded nicely to our treatment, and I can –”
Simon grabbed you around the nape of your neck, dragging your body up against his, using his other hand to fist his cock, holding it out for you to grab.
“Finish what you started, love, or I’ll finish it in you.”
His eyes were nothing but serious, and you were so turned on by his fiery passion, you grabbed his cock, knelt down on the floor and fed him into your mouth. Only the head would fit at first, but that was enough. The obscene cries that came out of his throat told you everything you needed to know about his pleasure.
You popped his head out of your mouth and jerked him, fast and hard, smirking from your knees,
“C’mon then. Finish it in me.”
The look of shock that painted his face was like a prize that you treasured for yourself, and as you bobbed your head back and forth, sucking him as best you could, he leaned his free hand against the wall and curled his fingers into your neck even tighter.
“Mngh… mngh… mngh… Shit! M’gonna come, love. Gonna come… fuck!”
He tried to pull away, worried that you would not want to take him in your mouth, but you sucked him deeper, keeping his pounding head sealed inside your lips. He started to orgasm, and it filled your tongue, forcing you to swallow if you wanted to breathe. You swallowed more and more of his salty cream, lapping at his drooling head, slurping and sucking to your heart’s content.
“Goddamnit… fuck! Fuck, holy fuck…” He was coming apart above you, his release so pure and powerful that you watched him tremble, his eyes rolling back in his head like a shark ready to bite, and you felt like you were on top of the world.
His shaft kept throbbing, spilling more and more of his come into you, and you kept sucking him, hoping to get every last drop.
Then, he let go of your neck and moved his hand to cup your cheek, touching you with gentle adoration,
“Bloody hell, love. What was that?”
You popped him out of your mouth once more and gave him a long lick, a cunning grin on your face,
“Injury treatment?”
“Fuck me, I’m still injured. C’mere.”
#cali’s kinktober#kinktober 2024#cod kinktober#call of duty kinktober#graviora manent#by the californicationist#gn reader#gn!reader#gender neutral reader#ghost simon riley#simon “ghost” riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost cod#call of duty#call of duty fanfic
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ive head this nagging thought in the back of my head that satoru has some kinda random spot on his body that’ll make him instantly pop a bone. I DONT KNOW JUST WORK WITH ME HERE PLS 🙏 i love your works btw 😘
✧ sweet spot, ft. satoru gojo
✧ tags: mostly fluff, whiny satoru, ‘baby’ as a nickname, did i say mostly fluff already??, dry humping, overstim, loser satoru cs he’s mushy and in love
✧ an: this idea is now living in my head and not paying rent, thanks a lot anon :/
satoru usually just does his own hair care, and he’s very meticulous about it. he wants everything to be clean and pristine—not that you weren’t capable of doing that for him, he’s just very, very dramatic. he didn’t even know this spot was sensitive until… literally now.
he’s standing in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his growing undercut. he figured it was time for him to cut it anyway, but his arms were very sore from some training he’d done with the kids yesterday.
“babe.”
“y’esh?” he chuckled at your mouthful of the minty paste, and just waited for you to finish brushing. when you finally did, you turned to face him as he brushed his thumb over the white pooling on the corner of your mouth.
“can you cut my hair today? ‘arms are so sore.” satoru whined, his finger still tracing your lip lazily.
“have you washed it? i don’t need your lice transferring to me—ouch! okay, okay, plug in the clippers!” you giggled as he pinched your lip. the clippers rested on his side of the sink, and he plugged them in wordlessly. you stood behind him, lightly brushing the area with the small brush you know is the most comfortable for him. satoru sighs lightly as you do this, and his shoulders relax.
he didn’t know exactly what it was, but your hands felt different than his. you made him so sensitive usually anyway, but this was weird. his cheeks were heating, and everything was tingling, not just his neck.
and then you did it.
the clippers worked in upward strokes as you trimmed the hair down, and suddenly your thumb brushed over some magical pressure point of his. satoru felt pleasure shoot down his spine like he never had before, and a almost girly squeak slipped out before he could stop it. your eyes go wide and you remove the clippers from his neck. satoru is deathly still, and you watched color bloom over his cheeks in the mirror.
“…you okay sato’?” the nickname drips off your tongue like honey—so effortless, so intimate, and he hates that you decided to use it right now. he can’t take it. you’ve never called him that, and he can hear the amused tilt in your voice.
satoru gulps, because he doesn’t know what to say. how does he say that he wants you to keep going, to keep brushing over that exact spot so he can pinpoint exactly what that feeling was just now? he’s never felt anything like that when he cut his own hair…
he settles on a weak little “i’m fine, baby,” because frankly? he doesn’t trust himself to say any other words right now.
you give him a little smile in the mirror before your hands start working again, and you finally start getting somewhere with actually cutting his damn hair. he doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary happen anymore, and now he’s finally cleanly shaven again like he likes. you did an exceptional job, and satoru peppers you with kisses as a reward.
he mostly stops thinking about it after this.
yeah, maybe the thought lingers in the back of his head for a few hours after, and maybe he stands in the bathroom rubbing his thumb over the back of his neck for a little longer than considered normal, but it was fine.
except for when you call him down to finish watching the movie you’d started earlier, and he’s laying on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair. satoru isn’t even paying attention to what your hand is doing as he yaps about the plot of the film, and you listen.
“he’s a piece of shit! i mean, he stayed with his side piece on the plane, and made his wife drive in the snow? fuck mike ‘till it’s backwards.” satoru spits, his attention fully focused on the movie’s plot.
unlike you, who’s mind was still in the bathroom, cutting satoru’s hair.
you haven’t stopped thinking about the little noise he’d made as you’d accidentally pressed your finger over the nape of his neck, right where the hair started. he sounded so weak—so vulnerable, and you decided right then that you needed to hear much more of that.
your mind was now solely focused on one thing, and your hand was moving just as it was in the bathroom. you twirled your fingers around strands, until finally threading your fingers through his hair and giving a small tug. this tore a stuttered breath out of satoru, and you smiled. he’d gone a little more rigid against you, and his commentary had stopped as you payed so much attention to him. he was losing focus of the movie, too.
“b-babe,”
“hmm?” you hummed back, fingers now traveling from his hair to his lower neck, tracing small circles there. you knew what you were looking for, but why not tease a little first?
satoru couldn’t answer you if he tried—every word in his throat dies as you press down onto that spot once more, and he’s slamming his hand on-top of yours to make sure you don’t move it. he isn’t sure why he does that exactly, but why does it matter? why does anything matter when you’re touching him like this?
he can’t do this, just one press on his spot has his dick rising and stiff against your thigh, and even you can hardly believe it.
“sato.” you grip his hair to pull him off your chest, just enough to look at you. he whines from the mixture of the nickname and the sting of his scalp.
“b-baby, please.” satoru breathes. you know what he’s asking for, and you figured you’d done enough teasing for a while. you grin, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the pressure point back and forth, up and down, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he came just from this based on the sounds he was making. he hovers you, his arms barely holding his body up, and he’s heaving into your neck.
“breathe, satoru.”
“mmph—i will! i will, just please don’t stop,” satoru whines, his hips grinding down against your thigh. sure, this whole thing is embarrassing as hell, but he couldn’t help the cheeky grin that stretched across his face as you indulged him. as you ran your acrylics over the sensitive part of him, he dropped his head back into your shoulders, and his own started to shake violently.
he was laughing.
you were shocked by this, but you didn’t dare stop. at some point, you couldn’t help but snort a little as he grasped onto you. it was cute—the way his giggles melted into moans, the way he couldn’t control himself or his emotions in the moment. there were no coherent thoughts forming in his head except for fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
and you loved it that way.
#gojo x black reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jjk x reader#jjk x black reader#black reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru x black y/n#gojou satoru x you#satoru smut#syno’s picks 💌#this idea is so funny to me#imagine just lightly touching the back of his neck bc you just like doing that and you’re a physical person and he just moans like LMAO#this also kinda goes into my touch starved gojo agenda but that’s a later convo 🫡
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do you think dream might also have some sort of chronic pain? nightmares legs are like obviously really messed up from corruption, but like being in stone for more than 400 (or 500 I kinda forgot how long he was in stone for) years has gotta do something to your joints or bones. Probably maybe not something as painful as what nightmare goes through, but I’d expect it to be painful or discomforting nonetheless
ACTUALLY YESSSSS ANON I DO THINK DREAM IS IN CHRONIC PAIN TOO!!!
And they’re definitely joints, definitely suffers from some sorta arthritis, being frozen in place for so long can be debilitating, and allow me to say that I love to think Dream also wasn’t just able to move around like he just wasn’t frozen for 500 years when he got free
Like I absolutely love to think he barely could move at all when he first got out of his prison, he definitely was in so much pain too, and absolutely struggled to move his limbs, like I wholeheartedly believe he just lay there without moving for a while (all while his mind was on overdrive as his memories got back to him as to what the hell happened)
And well, that pain as well as stiffness, especially in his joints just stuck with him, he now also struggles a lot of the time with moving too much or working, and sometimes the pain can amp up to the point he just can’t move at all, literally would cry from the pain, he’d force himself to stay as still as possible as to not irritate his pain even more
And unlike Nightmare, who’s pain is mostly just his back and legs, Dream’s pain is in every and each joint in his body, from every vertebrae in his spine, to every finger joint in his hands
Now take that and include Dream’s archery in the mix :)
One of the biggest things about archery is that you have to have strong flexible joints to be able to use a bow without any problems, not to mention, using it excessively can cause joint stiffness/pain, so I think it’d be easy to imagine how hellish using a bow is for Dream
But Dream had to learn how to use it effectively with his disability if he wanted to survive, the reason Dream picks up archery specifically is both cause it holds sentimental value to him as he used to play archery with Nightmare, and cause he knows he needs a long range weapon when Nightmare got his tentacles, he can’t be too careless and be at close proximity to his brother when he’s trying to kill him
So even tho there’s so much in his way, Dream managed to learn how to use a bow effectively all the same
It doesn’t mean he never faces any problems when fighting with his bow, Dream has great aim, but even then he’d sometimes miss his target just cause of the pain/stiffness he has, and sometimes it irritates his joints so much that he’s just unable to keep fighting and so he just retreats
I like to think Dream never even knew how to make his pain better at all, he never knew how to treat it, so for the longest time he just lived with it, until he met Swap, and well, he finally understood that he doesn’t need to just live with it and that there are methods to treat the pain, so now he wears braces under his clothes most the time, especially his wrists, arms and knees, he sometimes uses heat/cold therapy and he’s definitely on pain medications on a daily basis
Damn this boi needs a break
#talking about chronic pain made me conscious about my own chhcchhcjc#god i need painkillers asap#*scurries away to get one*#dreamtale#dream sans#anothers art#anothers ask
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