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hanniebaeee · 1 month ago

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Freckles and Brownies

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: spicy dreams, some smut (not deep), and reader is slightly older MDNI

Genre: neighbors/friends to lovers, fluff, smut

Summary: Your sweet neighbor Felix has the biggest crush on you. You try not to give in, but he's way too irresistible.

You knew he was coming over even before you heard the knock on your door. Your apartment building had the thinnest walls in the history of thin walls - it was pathetic really.

But you liked your cute little apartment a lot - it was quiet (most of the time) and comfortable. Then there was Felix, your sweet neighbor who lived next door with his roommate, Jisung.

Felix was a joy to have around, because he was kind, considerate, and he always had a smile on his face. And he was totally obsessed with you.

He loved to bake and every time he baked, he would knock on your door, with a box of such yummy treats.

“Hey, I made extra. Thought you might like some,” he’d say, handing them over, with the softest smile on his face.

And your heart would skip a beat because, seriously, he looked like a fantasy wrapped in an apron.

Yes, you thought he was adorable. But he was your neighbor and you knew he was a few years younger, and so, adorable or not - you never crossed that line.

So, you pretended not to see the way he constantly blushed around you or the way his eyes would always linger a second too long. It was so hard, when he was right there in front of you, baking brownies or cookies every other day just so he could come and see you.

You had to draw a line. You had to.

The night was quiet, except for the soft tapping of your fingers on your keyboard as you worked. You were in bed, hair pulled into a messy bun, a mug of tea in hand, trying to meet a deadline you couldn’t ignore.

Your focus, however, was shattered by a noise from the other side of the wall. The very wall that separated your apartment from Felix’s.

At first, it was very faint. A low, muffled groan. You paused, fingers hovering over the keys, straining to listen. Maybe Felix was having another one of his late-night gaming sessions with Jisung?

Then it came again. Oh that's definitely not related to gaming.

You froze. Because that was a moan. A low, breathy moan. And it was your name.

“Y/N…”

Your stomach dropped. No way. NO WAY!

But then you heard it again. And again. His voice, soft yet clear, filtering through the paper-thin wall separating your bedroom from his. The sounds that followed were unguarded, raw, and so unbelievably... dirty.

“Oh, God, Y/N…”

Your entire body flushed with embarrassment and something else entirely. You slapped a hand over your mouth completely scandalized.

Ok, you knew he liked you, but this? He couldn’t be…was he seriously…?

You quickly shook your head as if that would help banish the thought. No. Felix was sweet and innocent and, okay, not innocent, but still.

But then came another sound. This one unmistakable the creak of a bed frame, followed by a low, guttural moan that sent your imagination spiraling to a whole new level.

“Oh, fuck,” you heard him whisper. “So good…”

Your hands shot to your headphones. It wasn’t even a choice at this point - it was pure survival. You jammed them onto your head and cranked up the volume on your playlist. There.

Not that it worked. Because no matter how loud the music, you could still hear him in your head.

You buried your face in your hands. You weren’t supposed to be hearing this. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about how Felix - sweet, blushing, brownie-baking Felix - was currently doing whatever he was doing!

---

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall…

Felix was lost in his dream, blissfully unaware of the chaos he was causing. In his dream, you were standing in his kitchen, wearing one of those pretty sweaters he always saw you in. But this time, the fabric was slipping off one of your shoulders as you leaned over the counter, a teasing smile on your lips. Oh he could see way more than just a bit of skin.

“Do you want a taste?” you asked, holding up your fingers dripping with chocolate.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely functioning. “Y-Yeah…”

You laughed softly, dipping your fingers into your mouth, licking them clean yourself.

“You have to ask nicely, baby.” you whispered.

His dream-self didn’t hesitate. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer, his lips crashing into your chocolate stained ones in a kiss so desperate, so needy, it made his whole body ache.

Felix let out a deep, throaty groan, clutching his pillow tightly as his dream-self pushed you against the counter, rutting against you like his life depended on it.

He pushed his face into his pillow, his hips moving against the mattress for some friction. He snaps awake, feeling a bit disoriented, but so damn hard and needy.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice so deep and raw. “I need you…”

His hand slips into his sweatpants, trying to help himself out of this mess, face still pressed into his pillow.

---

You yanked off your headphones, groaning in frustration. This was ridiculous. You were a grown woman. You could handle this.

You groaned as you heard another moan followed by the creaking of his bed (more frantically), and you threw yourself back onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow to stifle the hysterical laugh bubbling up in your chest.

This was insane. Completely, utterly insane. How are you supposed to face him tomorrow? You can't, not after this.

—

The next morning, you're walking down the hallway, so fatigued and sleep deprived after you spent the whole night unable to fall asleep. You were dressed for work, your bag in one hand, your phone in the other.

And the universe decided to play the most ridiculous joke on you, because there came Felix from the opposite side - t-shirt half-tucked, hair a little messy - looking totally…spent.

You tried to act casual, but he froze when he saw you.

“Morning!” he chirped, his face lighting up when he saw you. “You’re up early!”

“Yeah, well, work, you know…”

“Are you okay? You look kind of flustered.” Felix tilted his head, studying you.

“I’m fine!” you blurted, far too quickly.

“Are you sure? You seem a little... tense.” he said, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

Oh no, he wasn't doing this right now.

“Did you sleep well last night, Felix?” you asked, crossing your arms against your chest.

Felix blinked, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he said, “Uh... yeah. Why?”

You smiled sweetly, your tone laced with barely concealed mischief.

“Oh, no reason. You just seemed... very well-rested.”

Felix’s eyes widened, the realization hitting him rather mercilessly. “Oh my God.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the poor boy.

“What's wrong?” you asked, and he turned bright red, his hands flying to cover his face.

“I- I didn’t - how did you - oh my God!”

You patted his shoulder, thoroughly enjoying his meltdown and said, “Don’t worry, Lixie. Your secret’s safe with me.”

And with that, you walked away, leaving Felix a stuttering, blushing mess in the hallway.

Felix tried. He really did. After the mortifying revelation that you’d heard him, he swore to himself he’d keep his cool. He was a man, and he was going to act like it. Mature. Collected. Cool.

But every time he saw you, his resolve crumbled like one of his cookies.

You’d stopped by to return the Tupperware he’d given you last week (filled with brownies he’d baked as yet another excuse to see you). You were dressed casually in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, your hair tied back, but Felix could hardly keep his composure.

“Thanks again for the brownies,” you said, handing him the container with a smile. “They were great. As always.”

His heart did a full somersault at your praise. He took the container, his fingers brushing yours, and you swore you felt him shiver.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stammered, cheeks dusted pink. “Anytime.”

He looked into the box that was definitely not empty, and saw that was indeed full.

“I made some lasagna, we never return empty containers,” you said with a wink and Felix blushed as he smiled.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said, “Um, -”

A silence stretched between you two, broken only when Jisung called from inside, “Felix! Are you flirting with her again?!”

Your eyes went wide and Felix choked, turning toward the door.

“I’m not - she’s not - shut up, Jisung!” he growled and you laughed, as Felix turned back to you, now red as a tomato.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, backing toward your apartment, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Yeah, of course!” Felix said, nodding too quickly. “See you later?”

“Sure,”

---

“I don’t know what to do,” you groaned, stirring your latte, as your best friend, Jennie eyed you with a smirk. “He’s so… sweet. And attractive. And every time I see him, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Jennie raised an eyebrow, sipping her Americano and said, “So, I don't see the problem?”

“The problem,” you emphasized, “is that he’s younger than me. What if he regrets it later?"

Jennie snorted.

“Oh, please. What's a couple of years have to do with anything? He’s an adult. He can vote, drive, drink - he's a big boy, Y/N. Stop making excuses.”

“It’s not just the age thing,” you protested. “We're neighbors. It’s messy. If it doesn't work out, I'd have to move and then-”

“Babe, he's hot,” Jennie added, waggling her eyebrows. “Come on, Y/N. The guy clearly worships you. I bet he’d walk barefoot through a field of Legos if you asked him to.”

“Jen-”

“Look,” she interrupted, leaning forward with a smirk, “I get it. You’re scared. But life’s short. If you want him, go for it.”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. Jennie was the worst. But she was also… not entirely wrong.

---

For Felix, this was a whole crisis.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The way you smiled, the way you smelled when you leaned in just a little too close. It was driving him insane.

Jisung, of course, noticed his nonstop thirsting.

“Dude,” Jisung said, tossing the controller onto the couch as Felix stared blankly at his laptop. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Felix muttered, though the pink tint to his ears gave him away.

“Oh, come on,” Jisung groaned. “It’s been, what, six months? You’re salivating every time she walks by.”

“She’s… amazing, ok? And perfect. And…” He trailed off, sighing deeply. “She’d never go for someone like me.”

“Why not?” Jisung asked, genuinely curious.

“Because she’s…her,” Felix said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She's beautiful, and successful. And-”

“And so into you,” Jisung interrupted. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Trust me, she’s interested.”

Felix shook his head, his heart aching. He wanted to believe it, but every time he got close to you, he felt like you were slipping through his fingers.

That night, as you lay in bed, your mind wandered back to Felix. To his soft voice, his shy smile, and the way he looked at you like you were his entire world.

You groaned, rolling onto your side. This was ridiculous. Jennie’s words echoed in your mind, Life’s short. If you want him, go for it.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. But then you heard it - the doorbell.

You sat up, heart racing. It was almost midnight. You slipped out of bed and walked to your door. You heard the bell again, and this time, Felix’s voice with it.

“Y/N?” Felix’s voice was soft but urgent. “It’s me.”

You opened the door quickly to find Felix standing there, looking equal parts nervous and determined.

“Felix, is everything ok?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he blurted out, his freckles stark against his flushed cheeks. “I know this is crazy, and I know I probably don’t have a chance, but… I had to tell you. Because it’s driving me crazy. You’re driving me crazy.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“Felix, I -”

“I don't know what to do,” he continued, his voice trembling. “But I need you to know. I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you.”

—---

The clock on your nightstand read 2:47 AM. You’d been lying in bed for hours, unable to sleep, your head spinning.

Felix’s confession played on repeat in your head.

I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you.

The words had shattered something inside you. You’d wanted to say something, anything, but all you’d managed was a stunned silence - staring at him with your mouth open, that he gave you a rushed goodnight. And bolted.

Since then, you’d been teetering on the edge of panic and longing. You didn't say anything. Anything at all. And seeing the disappointment in those big beautiful eyes of his, seeing his face crumble with sadness at your silence was absolutely heartbreaking.

You turned onto your side, facing the wall you shared with Felix. Your heart ached, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on your chest. He was right there, so close, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to bridge the gap.

---

Felix lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands gripping the sheets like they were the only things tethering him to reality.

He had spilled his heart to you, thinking it would work. And now? Now it felt like his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces.

You hadn’t said anything. Not a single word to give him hope or closure. He tried to convince himself you were just processing, that you weren’t rejecting him - but the silence was the most painful thing he'd ever had to endure.

His gaze drifted to the wall separating his room from yours. And his mind, traitorous as always, began to wander. He imagined you on the other side, lying in your bed, the soft curve of your lips, the way your eyes would flutter shut if he kissed you.

His fantasies were vivid, and utterly maddening.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He wanted you so badly it hurt. But more than that, he wanted you to want him.

He felt like he was suffocating.

---

You couldn't take it anymore. It felt way too claustrophobic in your room. You sat up, your heart racing and climbed out of bed and padded to your door.

You needed some air.

---

The sound of your door opening reached him, and his heart leapt into his throat. He scrambled out of bed, throwing on a hoodie as he moved to his own door.

He opened his door and walked straight into you.

“Y/N,” he breathed, after his body clashed with yours, and his voice was so husky and breathless.

“I…” You hesitated, looking equally breathless and surprised. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Felix stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. “Me neither.”

You bit your lip, your chest heaving with the stress of it all.

“Felix, about what you said earlier…” you began.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“I meant it. Every word.” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “And I…”

Before you could finish, Felix closed the distance between you, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His touch was gentle, and you both had a moment, staring at each other, absolutely terrified.

You didn't know who moved first, but here you two were, kissing. A kiss so soft at first, then deepening as months of pent-up desire spilled over. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a desperation that reflected your own.

Your back hit the wall and he tilted his head, licking into your mouth, and it was so absolutely hot.

When you finally pulled away from Felix, your lips still tingled from the kiss, and your heart pounded so hard.

Felix’s eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed a deep red. He looked absolutely stunned, his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out.

Oh no, why wasn't he saying anything?!

“I…” you began, but the words got stuck in your throat.

What could you even say?

“I’m sorry,” Felix whispered, his voice strained. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair, clearly panicking.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you blurted, hugging your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in the oversized sweater you’d thrown on before bed. It barely skimmed your thighs, and now you were hyper-aware of how Felix’s eyes kept darting to your legs before snapping back up to your face.

Felix’s jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath.

“I…I should go.” he murmured and before you could stop him, he turned and sprinted back into his apartment, leaving you standing there.

—

The moment Felix shut the door to his apartment, he leaned against it.

“Shit,” he whispered, his eyes closed and voice trembling.

He wanted to scream. Or throw himself off a cliff. Because right now, all he could think about was the way you tasted, the way you looked in that damn sweater. The way you looked so… thrown after the kiss.

Groaning, he went to his bedroom and fell onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. He was turned on beyond belief, but the guilt was just as strong.

That kiss, though perfect, felt impulsive and reckless. And now? He had no idea where you two stood.

---

By the time the sun came up, Felix was in full-on stress-baking mode.

His kitchen was a disaster - half empty bags of flour, bowls and utensils littered every surface, and his oven was working overtime. He’d already made two trays of brownies, cookies, and a batch of cupcakes, and he was still going.

Because every time he paused, every time he let himself think, his mind betrayed him. That damn kiss was playing on repeat in his head.

He threw himself back into baking, hoping it would distract him. But it didn’t work. His fantasies just grew wilder.

“Stop it,” Felix hissed to himself, slamming the oven door shut.

But the damage was done. He was a mess.

---

By the time Jisung woke up (close to noon) and stumbled into the kitchen, Felix was pulling yet another tray of cookies out of the oven.

“What the hell happened here?” Jisung asked, blinking at the mountain of baked goods that had taken over their apartment. “Did you open a bakery while I was asleep?”

Felix shot him a glare and said, “Don’t start.”

Jisung raised his hands in surrender, though he did ask, “Rough night?”

Felix didn’t answer, instead focusing on packing some of the cookies into containers.

Jisung leaned against the counter, smirking. “This is obviously about Y/N.”

Felix froze for a second.

“I knew it,” Jisung said, grinning. “Care to share what happened?”

Felix’s ears turned bright red as he shook his head.

“I’m not talking about it,” he said.

“Okay, fine,” Jisung said, grabbing a cookie. “But, for what it’s worth, you should tell her how you’re feeling. Like, really tell her.”

Felix sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“I already did.” he said sadly.

Jisung blinked in surprise. “And?”

“She didn’t say anything.” Felix’s voice was quiet, almost defeated. “And then…and then…never mind.”

---

The moment you stepped into the hallway after a long day at work, you were hit with the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate and vanilla.

You paused, inhaling deeply. Felix was baking again.

You’d just changed into your pyjamas when there was a knock at your door. Opening it, you weren’t surprised to find Felix standing there, holding four containers of baked goods in his hands.

He looked kind of disheveled and his expression was tight - like he was barely holding it together.

“Felix,” you started, but he thrust the containers into your hands before you could say more.

“What’s all this?” you asked, looking down at the overflowing assortment of brownies, cookies, and cupcakes.

Felix let out a laugh - a sharp and humorless one.

“It’s your fault,” he said and your eyebrows shot up.

“My fault?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Because I can’t stop thinking about how you didn't say a word after I admitted my feelings for you. And then we kiss, and you don't say anything even then.”

Your lips parted, words failing you as he continued.

“It hurts. My heart hurts, and if I sit still I feel like I'm gonna faint. So yeah, I've been baking nonstop for hours now. You can eat them, throw them out, whatever you want. I just…I needed to get them out of my kitchen before I baked myself into oblivion.”

You sighed, setting the containers down on a nearby table. “Felix -”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head and taking a step back. “Don’t.”

“What? At least-”

“I have to go, or I'll end up doing something really stupid.”

And before you could stop him, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with all his baked treats and a heart that felt like it was breaking.

Felix was spiraling.

For days, he’d been avoiding you as much as possible. He hated it. He hated having to speed walk past you or ignoring you. He couldn't stop craving you, and all through his heartache, he still missed you.

And he still couldn’t stop himself from baking for you. It was the only way he knew to show how much he cared without risking saying or doing something that might ruin everything further.

The knock on your door came as you were finishing dinner. You opened it to find Felix standing there, looking as nervous as ever, holding a box of brownies.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft.

“Hi, Felix,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“I made these for you.” he said, holding the box out to you, his hands trembling slightly.

You took the box, your eyes narrowing slightly.

“Thanks, but -” Before you could finish, he turned and started to walk away.

“Felix!” you called after him, but he didn’t stop.

Something inside you snapped. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Felix!” you yelled again, quickly placing the box on the ground and grabbing the back of his hoodie, tugging him to a stop.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he turned halfway to look at you.

“Please don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “I’m trying so hard to hold it together.”

“Well, stop,” you said firmly, pulling him back toward your apartment, your grip on his hoodie strong.

“Y/N,” he protested, stumbling slightly as you dragged him inside. “You don’t get it!”

“Shut up, Felix,” you snapped, cutting him off as you slammed the door behind you.

He blinked at you, startled, his mouth opening to say something else, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“I like you, okay?” you yelled, your voice rising. “I like you back, Felix! I’ve been trying to hold it in, trying to be reasonable because this whole thing is complicated and I didn’t want to make it weird, but I can’t take it anymore! You’ve been driving me mad with all your running and your baking and your stupid perfect face, so just - just shut up and kiss me already!”

For a moment, Felix just stared at you, his eyes wide, his lips parted in shock.

“You… what?” he whispered, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

“I said I like you,” you repeated, your chest heaving. “Now are you going to kiss me or not?”

In an instant, he closed the space between you, his hands cupping your face as he crashed his lips against yours.

The kiss was desperate, frantic even, and you responded with just as much intensity, your hands fisting in the front of his hoodie to pull him closer.

Felix’s lips were soft but insistent, his hands shaking slightly as they slid from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were gasping for air, trembling and flushed.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Felix whispered, his voice rough and shaky.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and said, “Probably as long as I have.”

He let out a soft laugh, his eyes shining with something you could only describe as pure joy.

And he kissed you over and over, until the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection you felt with each other.

Dating Felix felt like stepping into a dream.

From the moment you both decided to give it a go, it was as if everything clicked into place. Now, you were greeted with the soft press of his lips whenever he saw you and even softer smiles that melted your insides.

He was so attentive, and so utterly devoted. And more perfect than you'd ever thought a person could be. He stayed over at yours a lot, and you kept him company whenever you could over at his. And it was absolutely magical.

Oh and he taught you how to bake. Or at least he tried.

---

Felix’s kitchen was a mess as usual, all his baking things spread everywhere. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair pushed back with a bandana.

You were perched on the kitchen counter, dressed in that sweater - the oversized one he loved so much, the one that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs. Your hair was loose, your smile teasing, and you looked like you'd walked straight out of his dream.

Felix swallowed hard, as he tried not to look at you. But when he did, he saw you leaning forward slightly, resting your chin in your hand.

“What’s next, Chef Lee?” you asked, nodding toward the bowl of brownie batter.

Felix cleared his throat, trying to gather himself.

“Uh, okay. So, once we mix the dry ingredients…”

His voice trailed off as you dipped your finger into the batter, scooping up a bit and popping it into your mouth.

The sound you made - a soft hum of approval - almost made him drop the bowl.

“Mmm,” you said, licking your finger clean. “That’s so good.”

Felix’s jaw clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the bowl to keep himself steady.

“Baby,” he said, his voice strained.

“What?” you asked, your eyes wide with mock innocence.

“You’re not… helping,” he managed, his gaze slipping down to your thighs.

You tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you said, “I’m not?”

“No,” he said, setting the bowl down and taking a step closer to you.

“What am I doing, then?” you teased, tapping his bottom lip with your finger.

Felix caught your wrist, his grip firm but gentle.

“You’re being a bad girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Your breath hitched as he stepped between your legs, his hands sliding over your thighs.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his fingers tightening on your skin.

You smirked, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his.

“I want you.”

That was all it took.

Felix kissed you like he was starving, his hands running over your thighs as he pressed you closer. He tasted of chocolate and something so uniquely him, and you honestly couldn't get enough.

His lips moved to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He pushed the fabric off your shoulder, kissing all your exposed skin, groaning as you thread your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly.

He pushed you back against the wall, his hands reaching under your sweater and pulling down your panties quickly. You gasped as he quickly bent down and threw your legs over his shoulders.

Your breath caught as he kissed your inner thighs and went on to give you the most mind blowing orgasm of your life.

The bowl of brownie batter sat forgotten on the counter as he devoured you. Your fingers were in his hair, his bandana long lost and followed by his shirt and a lot more.

You sat on the counter, grinning smugly, your legs swinging lazily as you watched him, shirtless and glowing, trying to salvage the brownies he had abandoned earlier.

Felix glanced at you, his freckled cheeks still tinged pink, and smirked. He just lived his fantasy. And you were glowing, and it filled his heart to see you like that.

“The brownies, Lixie,” You reminded him as he lost focus, and was lost in thought, his eyes fixed on you.

He was about to reply when the front door opened, and Jisung walked in.

“Felix -” Jisung stopped mid-sentence as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes darting between you, perched on the counter, and Felix, standing there shirtless with a tray of brownies in hand.

There was a long, awkward pause as Jisung's eyes fell on Felix’s shirt lying on the floor. And obviously both of you looked enough ruffled for anyone to catch up.

“Oh my god,” Jisung finally said, his face scrunching up in horror. “Ew! Not in the kitchen!”

You burst into laughter, your hands flying to your mouth, while Felix just shook his head.

“Nothing happened here!” Felix insisted, though the sheepish grin tugging at his lips wasn’t helping his case.

Jisung pointed an accusing finger at his shirt lying on the floor.

“Don’t lie to me! There’s literally evidence of your sins everywhere!” he said.

“Jisung, I swear -”

“Save it!” Jisung cut him off dramatically, turning to leave. “I’m never eating anything that comes out of this kitchen again!”

You couldn’t stop giggling as Felix turned to you.

“Babe,” he muttered, though he couldn't help but smile.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to sound sincere but failing miserably.

Felix rolled his eyes, setting the tray down before stepping closer again.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he said, teasingly.

“Lucky, huh?” you said, looping your arms around his neck.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours as he said, “Very lucky.”

“I CAN HEAR YOU!” Jisung’s voice rang out from his bedroom.

You both burst out into giggles, and you kissed him again.

“I love you, Lixie.”

“I love you, baby.”

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght

#stray kids #skz #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #lee felix fluff #lee felix smut #lee felix angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz smau #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut

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pursuitseternal · 11 months ago

Text

“Knowledge is a dangerous weapon:” Bookworm!Tav, Vampiric Spawn Powers, and Breeding—“Bites” Update 📚

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.6K of banter and breeding

Based on an anonymous prompt

(HBD @lipstickghoulie )

Summary: You have always loved your books and a challenge, when your Vampire Rogue learns his starvation has kept him from his full powers, you take him up on his challenge to teach him the skills that are his due. As you draw closer together, he finds that one bit of information you have failed to teach him… how to make a dhampire

CW: light mocking of Astarion’s ditziness, Spawn Spidercrawl, catching powers and feelings, flirty touching, creepy silent vampire moves, Breeding talk, no babies just breeding, Mating Press™️

Ao3 link | Series link | Masterlist

📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚

You always knew he was… dumb. Thick headed. Unobservant.

Okay, at times the comments from his thick, rosy lips were just plain stupid. “That lever… must do something…” That was a wonderful moment, one that earned him your eyes rolling so far back in your skull they hurt. “We have some words and some… circles…. Wonder what they do….” Another example of his unparalleled intelligence.

Not to mention the countless times he failed to remember any of the major gods and their shrines as you passed through crypts and defiled chapels.

For as handsome as he was, for as sultry and seductive as you found him, he was… smoothed-brained. But as your journey forced you closer together, you couldn’t help but think some of it may be merely pretense, he was a magistrate after all. He was abused and tortured for centuries, surely that does things to one’s mind. And he was always reading. Every day, every night at camp, his beautiful aquiline nose stuck in a book, crimson eyes devouring the words at a breakneck speed.

One to even rival your own thirst for knowledge.

Maybe it was that you allowed the poor Spawn a chance to drink living, thinking blood for once. Your own. Maybe that was what began to take his little, stupid moments and turn them into something endearing.

Not that he was gracious when you corrected his ignorance. Every time, he gave that adorable, grumpy harumph and then defended his comments, or… since he started feeding from you, he’d just look at your neck still freshly marked and lick his lips. That really shut you up. Set you on fire.

But it wasn’t until you needed him to reach that last little chest up on the crumbling ledge inside some dank cavern that you realized his ignorance wasn’t wholly pretend.

Astarion, vampire spawn, didn’t know just what he should be capable of. He looked positively befuddled when you told him to just climb the brick wall. His sass had been sharp, “I’m not some spider, darling.”

“But you can spider climb, you dolt,” you had laughed imitating his tone, trying to call his bluff on skills he should have, at least according to what you had read in your book. A Spawn should scale such a wall with immense ease.

He just narrowed his crimson eyes at you, a snarl on his lips as he shook his head. “I have never performed such an act, darling, nor have any of my brothers and sisters, those of us Cazador kept for his bidding. Better check your precious facts in your precious tomes before you throw your assumptions on my prowess… dear.”

You still shiver at that night. Back at camp. When you ignored the way he bristled as you approached him in front of his tent. He had sneered at you, readying his next acerbic quip for you… Until you sat so close beside him, settling the heavy book in his lap. Leaning in, you point to the page. Traits and Strengths of the Vampiric Spawn.

You felt him cease breathing, his left hand clutching at the edge of the book growing even whiter. “Astarion,” you breathed. Leaning in more, you looked into his eyes, his gaze scanning the words so quickly on the aged vellum. And then he shoved you by your cheek out of his sightline. He needed to finish this.

“Why, I should be positively remarkable, assuming your book is correct,” he sighed, as if he saw a vision, a dream fulfilled. One where he was powerful.

You nodded as his crimson eyes flashed at you, wide with wonder. “You mentioned Cazador never let you feed enough, and not from thinking creatures.” He nodded, skeptical even as his eyes fixated on your lips. “Well, what you did not know was that denying you a sufficient diet meant also restricting you from your full powers, even as a Spawn, Astarion. You should be able to climb up walls and ceilings, move swifter, lift boulders too much for even Karlach to manage. You should be able to heal almost instantaneously, without potion or feeding.”

“And now?” he replied, that little tremor of hope in his voice unmistakable as his hand traced over the page of your book.

“Well, it’s a difficult deduction, since you have our unwelcome illithid parasite. But now that you are feeding regularly, even from thinking creatures, you should find the effects more than just making you feel… happy,” you rambled on. Even as you kept talking, his eyes glued their gaze to your neck, your lips. If you weren’t mistaken, they even dipped down the v-shaped cut of your tunic.

“So… the more I drink from thinking creatures, the stronger and more powerful I will be?” he murmured, a slight grit in his throat as his eyes definitely darted down your bosom now.

“Y-yes,” you rejoined, sliding back just a touch.

And he slid that touch closer, and then some.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, darling? You’ll help me learn these skills? Give me all I require to access my full potential….” His eyes looked wet, the ruby irises glowing in the flickering firelight. “Please?” he adds with that smirk and that single arching brow of his made you stomach flutter and heart thump so hard in your chest.

“I…” you started, but he only seemed to lean ever closer.

“You know, when I was a Magistrate, back in the City, I would have craved someone with intelligence like yours. We would have been rivals, colleagues…” his eyes dip once more shamelessly up and down your seated body. “Perhaps lovers even,” he breathed. “I always surrounded myself with those of highest intellect, darling. Intelligence is so… undervalued by many, and knowledge is a dangerous weapon, but I see you, my darling. Won’t you please come to my aid now?”

“We… we can try,” you had whispered, barely able to the let the words from your lips with how you seemed to seize under the intensity of his stare.

“Wonderful,” he purred, catching your cheek, your chin in his cool palm. “I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

You squirmed as his thumb began to brush beneath your lip.

“…to put my new strengths to the test I mean, of course.” He smirked that little bit more twistedly. More seductively. And you knew he heard your heart beating in your artery, your blood rushing under his touch in your veins to pool lower. It was his nature, and you knew more of it than he did.

“Of course…” you breathed. “I’d be happy to help.”

“Then it’s settled,” his voice was thick in his throat, you relished the way his other arm stole around you, clutching at you back to bring you all the closer under his heady spell of charm and seduction. “All that’s left is to seal our new arrangement somehow…”

He pushed that heavy book off his lap, sliding to bring you into completely flushed against him. You’re sure your pulse was raging so loudly, it’s deafened his pointed and twitching ears. That chilled, corpse-cold touch under your chin tilts you up just… so…

You melted, closing that distance between your lips. Every logical thought dispersed in the wind of your desire, that panting breath that passed from your lungs into his.

That’s how this all began, and where it had brought you to this moment, where he clings to the ceiling of a massive cavern filled with both the stink of Gnolls and the vile creatures themselves. Dagger gripped in between his glinting fangs. He readies himself with a look of pure and dark excitement. He loves this. He misses this when it’s just you all back in the quiet of camp, where he tests his ever growing strength and climbing abilities, where he drinks from you every night before he hunts in the dark.

Where he slowly makes you more and more aware of your awakening body the more he touches you and caresses and kisses you. Always every night. Always between your increasingly intellectual discussions about vampiric powers and the moment he sinks his fangs into your skin to feed. He always leaves you after dark, his own belly sated, while you… you grow all the hungrier. Needier. You want more debate, more analysis, more of his body covering yours as he drinks you down.

But not anything more. Not yet. Even as you knew he was edging closer to asking you for sex. Even if he didn’t know all the… implications. After all, knowledge was a dangerous weapon.

You shake your head to free yourself from the longing thoughts of past nights and burning expectations of the night to come. You give him the signal, watching him release with flawless precision, dagger in hand now, as he falls from his spider-perch.

The Gnolls never see you coming, not before your endearingly ferocious Vampire Spawn lands with preternatural grace on their heads and vivisects them before you even reach their location.

He pants as you get at least one good shot from your bow, right for the last twitching body on the ground.

It’s not until you smile, satisfied, you notice that Astarion’s pale skin is riddled with scratches and tears from the beasts’ claws. He holds out his arms, rolling up his sleeves and smiling. Enjoying the sight of his vampiric body healing before his eyes. That crimson gaze practically glows as he looks at you over the carnage. “See something you like, my sweet?” he purrs, arching that brow, just for you, as if the others in your party aren’t even there.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, turning to find the coveted chest of supplies, that Zhentarim sigil on it is no deterrent to you. Not when your Vampire Spawn can charm anyone to do anything now. “We better head back to camp,” you kneel before the strong chest, trying your hand to pick the iron lock.

“Tch,” his voice brushes your ear, physically tickling the small stray hairs that make you gasp. “You know I’m far more skilled with my fingers, especially when it comes to slipping inside…” You shudder to feel him crouching right behind you, his thighs pressed against your ass, his waist brushing your lower back. “…Slipping inside chests, locks, that sort of thing,” he adds louder, just to appease your unease. That dexterous touch has only grown all the smoother and stronger and sneakier now that he has fed well for a while.

He is so sneaky in fact, only one of his hands actually works the lock pick for a moment, the other quickly skates up your leg, tracing the inner seam of your buckskin breeches almost to the peak of your thigh. He laughs in your ear as you muffle a noise under your own palm.

“Soldiers, you really need four hands to pick one lock? Haven't you gotten better, Fangs, now that our fearless leader has let you suck on her and tutor you in being a Spawn?” Karlach chortles, her feet swaying side to side in that perpetual motion dance she seems to do.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Astarion throws the barb over his shoulder, letting you bury your face to hide the tweaks of ecstasy at the corners of your eyes as his fingers keep moving higher… higher. “Some silent performance only you get to savor, it seems?”

“If I didn't know better…” Gale’s pedantic voice draws closer.

“There now,” Astarion crows like the proudest rooster of them all, his hand quickly leaving the edge of your mound to twist that pick and pop the lock just as Gale peers from behind. “Look at all this loot,” he groans and stands, satisfied as he folds his arms over his chest. “Good thing you have a strong, well-fed Vampire to bring it back with us. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

He smirks down at you, hand extended to help you to your feet. Back to the rest, he flashes you that fang-toothed smirk that he knows sets your pulse galloping out of control. Pulling you up, he has to steady you in your legs, near boneless as they are with just that tease of pleasure. “Calm yourself darling, you're making my undead heart hurt sympathetically from all that… excitement,” he rasps right into your ear once you’re on your feet before him, releasing you in favor of bags of treasure and potions and loot to stuff in his pack.

Your mind is racing as your trod back towards your little camp well off the Risen Road for good measure. Thoughts scramble, worries peak their heads up, and you can’t stop thinking about the rest of what you have learned reading about vampires. Necessary research for you, particularly since Astarion has seemingly added flirtation and seduction into your witty repartee this last tenday. So far, you’ve managed to keep his wandering eyes from those pages when he glances through your tomes. He seems to prefer every little dip of your skin where he can see it at any rate. So far, you’ve managed to keep his hands in places on your body that are not too dangerous, yours on his as well.

But something inside you knows that tide is shifting. He wants to offer you more in exchange for more… and… well, if it doesn’t just make your body thrum with life in ways no books had and no previous interests had either.

He has beaten you back to camp, haphazardly tossed the loot for the rest of you to sort out in the center of camp. You know he’s waiting in his tent, now that the sun has begun to trek lower and lower. It’s time for your research, for your indulgence of his strength, and… whatever else might happen.

His tent is dimly lit as you enter, a mess of blankets and pillows, some fine and some in tatters. Stacks of books in the corners have replaced the blood bank bottles you first found here to clutter his space.

But no Astarion.

You tilt your head confused, settling down on one pillow, more or less intact, reaching for an apple he keeps in his stash of food just for you. Just to replenish you between his own feedings. As you bite into the hard skin, as the juice fills your mouth, you reach for a book, some ancient law book he found in the ruins of that village. Must make him think of his old life.

The pages are old and soft in your fingers, your eyes absentmindedly skimming the long words and complex sentences as you chew.

Peaceful. Until you realize it’s far too quiet.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, that feeling of being watched creeping up your spine. Turning, mid bite, you peer into the shadowed corner of his tent behind you.

Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the dark, just a hint of glinting teeth as he smiles and drinks in your fear and surprise. He laughs to hear you hiss as you jump in your seat. “There you are,” he croons from his darkened corner. “I’ve been waiting.”

“F-f-for what?” you force a smile and force your breath to steady all at once. He slides closer, settling down right beside you, and you notice your worn book in his hand, the smile on his face is sultry.

And predatory.

And for a moment, you regret teaching him as much as you have about his untapped powers.

“When were you going to tell me about your little bit of… research… on the side?” his voice is chilling, his brow arching as he flips the book open right to the back.

Right where you had been trying so hard to prevent his eyes from skimming, his ambitious brain from devouring the knowledge.

Your body is hot and rigid, and you know from the way his pointy ears twitch, he hears your pulse. You know from the way that his nostrils flare that he smells your arousal, the slick that dampens your underthings just to be this close to him again after his little stunt today.

“If my observations are correct… and they usually are…” he purrs, even though the stack of evidence to the contrary is vast. But you bite your tongue as he continues, your heart leaping at the topic he is about to breach. “You sound and smell eager to discuss this topic if dhampires, my darling.”

You swallow, watching so heated and frozen as he slides so gracefully to place the weight of that tome in your own lap, his fingers removing the half-eaten apple from your fingers to toss to the side. Then he brings their sticky, juicy tips to his mouth to suck them clean.

You moan, unbidden, at the wet and vigor with which his tongue cleans every crevice of those digits.

“Now, I’d hate to be left wondering just why my intelligent, little darling would withhold such a vital… potent… part of my unrevealed powers as a vampire?” he sets your hand back on your thigh, a little extra brush of his fingers, returning to trace that seam inside your breaches as he had before. “Is she… curious? Afraid? Is this why she has been just so hesitant during our…” he grips your chin, turning your head with commanding force until there is nowhere else to look but his deep crimson eyes, “…late night trysts?”

“It’s not something one just… brings up, Astarion,” you try to flatten your tone, even as that one hand still traces up and around your thigh. “It’s just not… done…”

Something about his eyes softens, “It would be important to discuss, you know, for there is more that I would like to share with you than just witty banter and blood…” his tone dips low into a rumble. “It’s not something I would have known, not a concern I would have shared until I knew of it…”

“There’s more to it than you might know,” you squeak as his fingers press into that slot between your legs. “Now that you’re well-fed, you’ll feel actual….”

You swallow the word. His touch presses hard enough into your folds through your breaches to make them soaked. And you, wanton you, you give a breath and a buck of your hips to keep his fingers there.

“Pleasure,” he smirks, eyes scanning your face as your force your eyes back open, halfway at least. “Yes, I gathered as much. The more I feed, the more I come alive… alive enough to perhaps even bestow a new life…” he squints a grin at you, your mouth slack as he draws that touch just as hard again, “…perhaps one day.”

You arch your body, trying to slip closer. Your secret is out, your anxious thoughts over clandestine information dispersed in the air. And so, the next words from your mouth just build on all that you had been swallowing down.

“Yes, perhaps one day…” you sigh, leaning back on your hands to try to give him full access to your cunt. “Perhaps one day, we could test out those powers together.” Your voice shakes with excitement, it’s pressed with the sincerity you feel for him.

“Oh, my love,” he smirks and reaches both arms around your waist. That newfound strength pulls you flush into his lap, until your molten, silk-soaked center presses against where he’s hardening. “You always know what to say… Seems like quite the power that will take much preparation and proper timing…” He brings your fingers back to his lips as he kisses them softly. “I’d have to feed on more than just a bear and more than just sips from my little treat, sweet as you are…”

You nod, once or twice, before losing yourself in the bliss of his tongue on the tingling inner skin of your wrist. Barely more than a lap before his fangs pierce your skin and suck you down. Your very essence, your living blood pools in his belly, you feel it coursing in his veins. It fills him and hardens him beneath your hips in an instant.

“Well, practice makes perfect you know,” he croons, bloodied lips barely hovering off your own. “I can tell from your scent you are not… in season…. And I have only had the single little taste.”

You pant, writhing at the scratch of your clothing, you long to rip it off and toss it where your book has long since been abandoned. “Sounds right to me,” you hiss, arms tucking around his neck to lower those arrogant stupidly handsome lips to your mouth.

Astarion’s throat rumbles with a growl, the taste of your blood fresh in his mouth as he rolls you on your back. Primal. Feral. He’s your powerful vampire, blood in his body, lust in his brain. And you want to put it all to the test—your own little experiment to match his enthusiastic desire for you. His touch is lightening fast and strong, pulling off your clothing, swift and sure and careful until every inch of your bodies are bare.

Strength hums in his muscles, even as his hands gently caress your cheek, your neck still sore from all his feeding. His body presses you into the pile of blankets that cover his plank of a bed. His hips grind your belly, your thighs are pulled almost against your chest until you’re spread wide open for him. But for every jolt of his cock as it prods above you and drips his early cum on to your belly, his kisses on your lips are sweet, gentle. A silent movement of gratitude for all your willing aid. Those fingers drag their slightly warmed touch around your breast, kneading it tenderly. With every arch of your back, you can almost catch the base of his cock inside your folds.

And you shake. You quiver. You’d had a few lovers, mostly boring and few and far between. But never has your body burned for anyone like it does for him.

As if his vampire touch is calling your blood to pool beneath it. Not one traditional strength, but with Astarion, you aren’t totally sure he doesn’t have some unnatural ability to command your body. To make your blood pound and sing just for him.

“What a good girl,” he rasps, a grind of his hips to send that cock near your navel, over your skin. “I can feel your heat for me from here. Just waiting to be fucked full.” His mouth descends quickly but carefully, only taking a single nipple in his lips. Sucking hard, he pops off with a loud wet noise.

Almost as loud as your moan.

“So ready, aren’t you?” His question weighs you down, your eyes half shut to savor the way he drags back with that length, sliding it in just an inch or so into your aching sex. “I’m waiting…” he growls, and you sob as he pulls even that little bit of his tip back out.

“Yes, hells below, yes,” you pant, hands flying to claw into his ass. Pulling him towards your throbbing core.

That blunted tip prods just barely inside you again. “You want me to fill you?” he rasps.

You nod, your teeth biting your lip hard enough to bleed.

“You want me to fill your belly like you let me fill mine with your sweet blood?” he grips his arms around your shoulders, pressing harder into, cock sliding in another little bit. “Fuck you so many times, my cum will drip from you for days?”

“Yes, Astarion…” you breathe, his mouth devouring your words, ready to swallow your cry as he does, finally, fill you.

You feel the gravity of his body crushing you, his legs braced with every tendon taught as he snaps his hips into. It’s so deep, so driving the way he fucks. And every thrust slaps your flesh and smacks his balls against your ass, but you love it. His breath dampens your collarbone, arms wrapped so tightly around you, you can do nothing but hold on for dear life. Your thighs burn from how they’re bent into your stomach almost, your folds leaking with arousal, and the drag of his cock touches every part of your walls and slams against your channel’s end.

He licks your shoulder, wet tongue lapping up to the artery in your neck. Where it pulses and dances in time with his beat inside you. Flushed and boiling, speared on his length, you pant, suffocated deliciously until you burst. Your visions swimming and muscles contorting in his press, you scream for him. You can hear your arousal, your slick, coating his thighs as his thrusts only increase with speed.

Lifting his head, he sweeps a hand down your sweat-drenched belly, palm bracing just below your navel. His push is relentless, hard and gradual enough you feel it behind your belly, how he gives you resistance from outside against that constant ramming of his cock at your deepest point. It’s enough to throw you into another coil of bliss instantly. “Good girl, so wet and dirty and waiting to be filled…'' he finally speaks through his panting. And he pushes on your belly once more, grunting with each fuck as he comes undone.

As he thrusts and spills his seed, prodding the full length of him to the deepest point yet. You can feel it almost sticking through your skin as he pulses. As he spills, burst after burst, he still rams that end of your cunt.

Beads of sweat drip from his forehead as he looks down your body, and how your skin is wet and flushed and marked from where he gripped you so fiercely.

He smiles and licks his lips. You try to clamber out, but his hand only comes to rest on your shoulder. “Ah ah,” he tutts his tongue at you, slipping out, only to take two of his fingers to play in your mix of cum, slipping it back inside you over and over again. “You’ll need to practice too, and you’ll need to rest to keep all of me inside of you.”

You shudder, a smile wide on your mouth, aroused and embraced, half hidden behind the back of your hand as you cover your face.

“Tch,” he chides you, pulling that hand from your face, “none of that, my darling. I’ll watch every bit of your blush darken your cheek until you’re ready to go again.”

“Again?” you choke. Your hips already feeling stretched and sore, you lay them flat and try to ease the aches.

“Oh yes,” he purrs, “you’ll have to build your strength the old fashioned way, my treat. Now,” he gives your ass a little smack on the side as he lifts it, “on your knees, darling…”

You finally take a breath, freed from his wiry, heavy frame. One cool hand settles between your shoulder blades to have you rest your head on his bedding. But that other hand pulls your hips up, slipping through your juices and teasing your clit until you buck back against his belly. You breathe contentedly, savoring the way his fingers caress you, worship you.

You close your eyes, wriggle your hips, already craving that stretching fullness inside you. A future with him at your side during the day as your strong, well fed vampire… and on your back and knees and belly and any way he would want you during the long nights with your virile lover.

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hunterwritings · 1 year ago

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𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐮𝐞𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨

request: "Hello, can you write headcannons on the reader taking the Lin Kuei trio to the movies as a date?" warnings: none | notes: maybe a bit ooc? also was very tired while writing this so maybe some writing mistakes

→ 𝐁𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧

Bi-han is most certainly not a movie guy.

I believe he would lean towards more 'traditional' dates, like going out to dinner or late night walks.

Being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he wouldn't have a whole lot of time for dates. He might also think they are a waste of time most of the time, he thinks there are better ways to show his love for you. But the few times he will initiate dates, he wants it to be somewhere remote, where it is only the two of you. Bi-han has a hard time showing his emotions, and an even harder time saying them, so he prefers to be alone with you to fully express his love.

When you give the idea of going to the movies with him, he is initially against it. He doesn't have a whole lot of movies or films that he is fond of, mostly because he thinks that it is useless fiction.

You are finally able to convince him tag along with you, convincing him that the movie you are going to see would have many fight scenes and said that the two of you could critique them together. You knew that was something you could draw him in with.

You planned a day you knew there wouldn't be many people in the theater so Bi-han wouldn't feel the need to be anxious or tense. You got decent seats in the middle of the theater.

He kept his rough hand over your own the entire time, squeezing it tightly. It was almost a security blanket for him, knowing that you were here and weren't leaving.

He paid close attention to the movie, actually getting quite interested, looking down at you a couple times with your head leaning on his chest.

Once you leave, Bi-han would be talking about the movie on the walk home, criticizing how the characters acted and none of the fight scenes would actually play out that way. Even though he was critiquing it, you knew he actually payed attention and wanted to express his thoughts with you.

→ 𝐊𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠

Kuai Liang thinks that movies are such a fun experience

He loves watching action-comedies with you. He also just loves the idea of being comfy and relaxing with you. Anything that involved him and you just being able to enjoy each other's presence was something he absolutely fawned over.

You told him you had this idea to go see a new adventure style comedy movie and he was filled with excitement. He will stand at the concession stand for a while until he knew that the two of you had everything you needed before watching the movie.

Always on time, usually even early so he can get snacks before the movie starts. He wants to make sure everything is perfect for you so that you can relax and be the most comfortable. Kuai Liang is always going to go out of his way to do the absolute best for you, no matter what it is. You are a god/goddess to him and he would worship you any chance he gets.

Gets really into the movie and the plot line. If you really enjoyed the movie as he did, you two will talk for hours on different parts you enjoyed and how you hope there will be another one.

On your walk home, he will tightly hold your hand while thanking you multiple times for being able to bring him along to the movies and saying how he will never get tired of going out with you. Kuai Liang will pour his heart out to you over and over again until he is drowning you in kisses from the top of your head to your collarbone.

→ 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

This man adores movies with you.

To be fair, Tomas adores doing almost anything with you. Any sort of outing with just the two of you makes him so happy, as if he couldn't ask for anything else.

Will watch any type of movie with you: comedy, romance, action, horror, etc.

would 100% watch Johnny Cage movies

Once you asked him to go the movies with you, his face lit up and he immediately accepted.

Will plan the entire day around you going to the movies. He will plan a lunch/dinner to go out with you before going to the movies and then would buy a handful of sweets for both you and himself from the movies concession stand. Once the movie would start, Tomas would be leaning down to your ear to comment on anything interesting he'd see in the movie or something he would laugh at with you.

Would have his arm slung around you, either around your shoulders or draped across your waist so that he could hold onto you while he looked up at the movie screen. He'd be smiling and smirking at you every couple of minutes and leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head.

Wants to go see every new movie with you and will buy tickets early to secure seats for new and upcoming movies.

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with-my-calamitous-love · 2 months ago

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lunar valleys in my mind

touya x reader

spending the night smoking cigarettes, eating takeout and kissing, you and your lover compare your beliefs on the universe. themes of death and nihilism, drawing from thoughts i’ve been having lately.

inspired by i hate it here

sometimes you feel like his consolation prize.

a lifetime of suffering, of burning up to the seems of his skin. a lifetime of believing comfort is a construct for fools, and finding warmth through setting himself ablaze. perhaps the universe decided to give him something, and perhaps, it was out of pity.

he doesn’t believe in pity, in good luck, in the existence of a god, or even in things being fair to him. he scoffed at those.

but if you truly were something, or rather someone, sent to ease his pain just a little… well, who is he to complain?

you’ve bugged him about smoking indoors, your compromise being that he open up all the windows before even thinking about lighting a cigarette. in turn, you’re cold. but that means you can lean cling to him and his embers for warmth. touya todoroki doesn’t feel cold- he isn’t capable.

he stands next to you, drying the dishes as you wash them. the lights are off, the only source of illumination being the refrigerator door left open. its warm, and that soft buzzing noise adds some ambience. laundry circulates in the back, and the leftovers sit on the counter, waiting to be stored.

“stop half assing it, touya.” you say, watching as we barely wipes the plates with the cloth wet. blue eyes flicker to you, and then back to his hands. just to bother you, he begins not drying them at all, putting them in their cabinets right away.

“oh, go fuck yourself.” you scoff, and he laughs, doing maybe a 2% better job at wiping them dry. “sorry, doll.” he chuckles under his breath, but he’s not sorry for getting you heated. he finds it adorable.

“when i die, i’m gonna haunt you forever.” you declare, playfully flicking water at him. you expect an asshole response from him. and in a way, you do. just not the kind you anticipated.

“you believe in that crap, doll? ghosts?” he says, a tone of finality in his voice.

“well… i think they could be real.” you say. “but i think theres more out there. heaven, reincarnation… the usual.” you hum.

the thought of there being more after death is comforting. in reincarnation, you could be a debutante in another life, one where you wouldn’t have to be scared to go outside. or maybe, theres heaven. that you’ll go to a place full of warmth and light, with a million suns to swallow you whole.

maybe, theres some place better than here.

but touya sighs dismissively, finding your naïveté cute. its always men that think they know everything, don’t they?

“i guess one of us has to have starry eyes.” touya says, extinguishing his cigarette on the ashtray. you can’t blame him for what he thinks, after all he’s been through.

you purse your lips curiously, challenging that notion. “so… what do you think happens after death mr. realist?”

he scoffs, a hint of a bitter smile blooming on his face, setting into his usual cynical expression.

“after death? nothing, doll,” he answers bluntly. “it’s just… lights out. game over. no cosmic beings, no rewards. just…”

“oblivion.” you propose. its the word that comes to mind based on his description.

“yeah. oblivion.” he confirms.

“so what?” you stand beside him, crickets of the night chirping just outside your window. “this is all there is, then?”

he nods, becoming more and more pessimistic as he goes on. “yeah, doll. thats it. oblivion. just nothingness.”

theres a silence that washes over you two as you continue your chores, moving through the house and eventually ending up on the couch, tired.

you want to believe that theres something more. and honestly, sometimes, so does he. its so easy to hate it here, to hate the world and those who inhabit it. so, you go to those secret, sacred gardens in your hearts and in your minds. the kind of place you need a key to get to, and the kind of key you swallow so no one can follow you.

no mid-sized city hopes or small-town fears. nostalgia is a minds trick- theres no point in reminiscing in what decade or moment in your past you would live in if you could. in the 1830s, you’d be freezing, married off to someone for the highest bid. any longer into the future, the world would be in fiery, climate induced ruins. maybe they’d find a better planet, where only the gentle can survive.

“well…” you start. his ears perk up, arms still around you.

“well what? don’t tell me you’re starting to believe me. your optimism was cute.” he chuckles.

“i’d rather have oblivion with you, than have everything alone.” you say.

just then, his smirk falters. he’s used to your stubborn optimism, and in a way, this is that. you’re finding the silver lining, even in cynical nihilism. and he can’t fathom just how you’re doing it.

“you’d… really?” he says, speechless, usual snide remarks replaced by something. wonder.

you nod, leaning your head on his shoulder. “its a pretty thought… heaven, reincarnation, something bigger than us.”

“it is.” he admits. he can’t deny that, even if he thinks that its bullshit. its a beautiful thought, for beautiful fools.

“but its also nice… thinking theres nothing. that one day, the world will collapse into oblivion. we’ll all go who knows where, and fade out from here. and thats a wrap. its the grand finale to it all.”

to your words, he stars up at the ceiling, as if picturing cosmos up before his eyes. he sees saturn’s rings and the moons craters up there. before, he thought that all of it, would turn to dest through the inevitability of death. that everyone would just have to be okay with being alone. but he isn’t alone anymore.

“you know, most assholes would find oblivion terrifying.” touya points out the obvious, chuckling. you nod.

“there is just something about it.” you say, eyes closing, resting. “that sooner or later, all that will be left is the darkness after the show, and the stars, and our dreams, stimulus, and love, everything and nothing, all in the void.”

he sees your sleepy state and takes that as an invitation to close his own eyes, your words not lost on him.

“you make nothing feel like everything.” he utters, lips pressing themselves to the top of your head.

“everything and nothing.” you repeat. “thats us.”

through your words, touya concludes. love can create meaning in a meaningless world. that maybe it isn’t about finding the answers to the universe, or finding out what happens after. maybe you two will go to heaven (though he definitely isn’t), or you’ll end up in the void, fading into nothingness.

there may be nothing in the world, but there’s everything in your love. perhaps the two- everything and nothing- are meant to coexist. love gives meaning to existence, even if it ends in… well, oblivion.

but as he draws your face near, kissing you, touya feels himself in the presence of everything. of a love that transcends even the inevitability of the universe itself.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

this is based off of a fictional short story i wrote for one of my classes, which i might post on my personal blog if people enjoy this. in the face of my depression, my struggles, and nothingness, the love i get here means everything. thank you for reading 🪐

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kbagraces · 11 months ago

Text

Curious Time - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Singer!reader

Multiple part series where their friendship was easy, their feelings were confusing and the distance was the hardest <3

(3rd person perspective)

PART 3 -

BUBBLEGUM

"It's sad because it just hurts. I'd do anything for you."

The week drawing to a close, a sad vibe lingered between the two of them. They cherished the moments they spent together, but with the final day approaching they both struggled to keep spirits high.

With both of their career paths, it was hard to fit into each other lives, but Lando's summer break ending and you preparing for the release for her next single, she knew contact would fall back to a minimum. They were both the most important people in one another's lives, even if they didn't speak for a year that would remain true, but bitter sweet.

The staycations would become day visits, turning to missed calls and sparse texts until their schedules aligned once more. She hated saying goodbye, she hated leaving him. She wished either of the jobs was less demanding but neither would ever give it up despite the toll it took on the two of them.

The final day was here. They agreed on day in bed as her flight was late and she couldn't be tired and miss it. The day was filled with hugs and sweet nothings, days like today is the only time she blurred the friendship line, when sober that is. Nothing too intimate, they'd never take it that far but her fingers would find their way into his curls as he's lying on her lap. Massaging any stress he has away, knowing it'll come flooding back as soon as she leaves.

"I wish you didn't have to go. Everything is easier with you here." He sighs. His head lifting up, sitting beside her so he can look in her eyes.

"You'll be fine in a week and you know it. Back to normal, you'll busy yourself with work and soon enough you'll be racing, you won't have time to give me a second thought." She smiles, she knows the first week is the hardest, but they're both cut from the same loaf, distract yourself with work and it soon enough goes. Until a hard day hits and all she needs is him.

"You're never a second thought and you know it. You're first in my life, always."

She could cry, she would never not in-front of him that's not fair on either of them. But God does she adore him. She couldn't live without him. "You're my favourite. I wish I could stay."

Silence takes over once more, nothing more needs to be said. An hour more of cuddling this way the sun has set the room dimly lit by the street lamps and the glow of the city.

"I need to make sure I've got all my stuff." She sighs shifting his head off her lap. Slithering out of bed, dragging herself to the room, her bags mainly packed but she likes to check then check again. She drags each bag to the front door, another quick glance over the now empty room making sure she hasn't forgotten anything.

Lando's now stood in the doorway once more, "I'll miss having your mess everywhere."

"It wasn't mess! It was so I was able to see what I brought with me!" She fires back, knowing he was only joking.

She falls into his arms, she has to leave now. He can't take her to the airport it's far too busy for the two of them to both arrive there. A mob at an airport is one way to piss the staff off before a flight.

She breathes in her scent once more, he kisses the top of her heard. "Don't go." He mumbled into her hair.

"That's not fair Lan, and you know it.", she looks up at him with sad eyes, their faces inches apart. His eyes dart between hers, he's leaning in.

He kisses her, she doesn't even comprehend before returning the kiss. Just like them laying together they fit. It's right. This feels right. So why is she pulling away, why is she pushing him away.

"We can't Lando, we can't do that. Please don't do that." Oh but I want to do that again, her heart says but her head is stronger.

He looks hurt and confused, "Why? y/n/n I know you feel it. Everyone says it. Come on." He grabs her hands pulling her close, not to kiss her again but to lessen the distance. He doesn't like how far she pulled away, he needs her close. Always.

"I can't do this Lando. Not now. Not when I'm leaving. I know what'll happen you'll promise me stuff and I'll promise you stuff. But we can't maintain it, not with the distance. And I'll lose you, one of us will get hurt and I'll lose you. I can't lose you." Tears appear in the corner of her eyes but she wipes them away before they can exit. Don't cry, dammit, she thinks.

Lando let's go of her hands now, running his own through his hair in frustration and upset. "You won't try? You won't even try? You'll never lose me no matter what. This could be good, so good and you won't try?" He's aware he sounds desperate, apart of him is. Having her here for almost a month has made him more aware of his feelings than even.

"We've never even discussed this Lando! You can't say all this as I'm about to leave!"

"I don't need to say it! I know you feel the same. It's us, I know how you feel. 'He's not you' that's what you said."

"I'd love it work Lan. I'd love nothing more. We can't even keep our friendship going for months, let alone a relationship. Please don't be angry at me. I need to in my life I don't want to risk losing you in case it doesn't work."

Lando knows in his soul it would work. There's nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make it work. He can't force her mind to change however.

"I disagree. But I can't force you. Im always yours. I'll always be yours, y/n/n. It's you." He pulls her in for a hug, her phone ringing in the background. The Uber having just arrived at the worst time.

He clears his throat, weak from holding back tears and frustration, "I'll bring ur bags down, I'll meet you down there, tell him to wait 5."

Y/n runs ahead, speaking to the Uber driver in her limited French as Lando loads up the boot. The driver gets in, sensing the goodbye should be private.

"Lan, I'm yours but it just won't work."

What does that mean? He wants to scream. He knows she wants him. That's why she rejects every man who's not him. She's shown no romantic interest in anyone else since they met, she hides behind the work excuse, because she wants him, she just won't give herself to him.

"I'll wait." He promises.

"You don't have to."

"Then how come I do?"

They hug for a little too long, the driver visibly getting impatient. They don't care. She kisses him, on the cheek this time, like she always does. He makes her promise to call him when she lands, she does but she knows he'll be asleep, and the drifting apart will begin again. It's only a matter of time.

Masterlist

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #f1

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one-winged-dirty-dreams · 7 months ago

Text

Oh My God It's A Kink Fic

ship: seth x dean myers source: original content word count: 1825

AUGGHHGHGHHGHHHH, I'M SO EMBARRASSEDDDD but I decided that since kink is such a big part of Dean's identity that a D/s fic was inevitable. Due to the nature of our inevitable dynamic.

Anyway, I love expressing how non-vocal of a guy Dean is, him using gestures to portray what he wants just punches me right in the dick.

tag list: @alluredbyalatus @thebeedroomhymns @kylars-submissive @camellias-and-cayenne

It had just been a casual invitation, whether Dean was going to spend the night had remained to be seen. The silence was always comfortable, Dean was a man of few words and Seth was attuned to his mannerisms by now.

As of now, Seth was at his sewing machine, working on a plushie order while Dean was reading one of the horror anthologies strewn about the apartment.

But after a moment, Dean's attention turned to Seth, regarding him silently with no particular expression before calling out to him flatly.

“Doe.”

Seth's head shot up, blinking in surprise and pushing up his glasses as he turned to look at him.

“Y-yeah?”

Making no expression, Dean lifted a finger, shaking it, and then proceeded to make a beckoning motion.

A shiver ran down Seth's spine, his face immediately heating up.

“Y-Yes Sir?” He corrected himself, standing and making his way over to stand in front of where Dean sat on the couch.

Dean's eyes raking over him felt like an appraisal, and Seth shivered again. When Dean's eyes landed eventually on the cute little varsity shorts he loved seeing Seth in so much, the hand that he gave his non-verbal commands with pointed down.

Seth was already slick - he knew this, Dean knew this, there was no doubt about it. But the confirmation is what Dean wanted, and it was Seth's role to give it to him.

Gulping, Seth hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, sliding them down his thighs with practically a natural affinity for obedience. Dean's eyes were trained upon the garment all the way until it hit the floor, before reprising their initial fixation upon the sticky mess between Seth's legs.

Seth's breaths were coming out short and shallow now, practically panting already as he shivered yet again. It felt like an eternity before Dean seemed to be satisfied with his eyefull, leaning back and resting his arms along the back of the couch, but not before giving his lap a few pats.

The way Seth scrambled up to straddle him was adorable in all senses of the word, but that's not something Dean would ever outwardly feel the need to express.

Once Seth was firmly settled in his lap, Dean rewarded him for his efforts thus far.

“Good boy,” he said, his tone flat and neutral.

But oh what a reward it was, the simple vocalization of validation making Seth whimper in delight.

Still, Dean was the type of man to get straight to the point when it suited him, not that he didn't have the patience, and often sadism, to draw things out. He reached past Seth to begin the process of unfastening his pants, unceremoniously freeing his sizeable length from his jeans.

This was anything but unceremonious for Seth, whose body was wracked by an absolute tremor of need upon feeling the heat of it between his thighs. Breath hitching, he waited for Dean to place a hand on his hip, pulling him down just enough that the tip of Dean’s cock pressed eagerly against his slit.

And ONLY as long as it took, it would seem, as Dean withdrew his hand to place it along the back of the couch opposite the other. Giving him another once over, Dean settled back before his impassible eyes met Seth’s.

“Take care of that,” he said, simple and deadpan.

“Y-Yes Sir!” Seth eagerly replied, taking a second to steady himself, hands braced against Dean’s shoulders as he began to sink himself down Dean’s lengthy cock. Though Seth himself couldn’t bite back a whimper of indulgence, Dean’s was unresponsive as always, though if you were perceptive enough you could probably notice the way his eyelids narrowed by just a margin.

It was always a bit of a stretch, and the depth could be a little uncomfortable depending on how Seth was handling it that particular day, but right now he had given himself over to pure submissive bliss. The very concept of servicing Dean like this was enough to make his eyelashes flutter and his lips part, a few shaky breaths leaving him as he finally bottomed out in Dean’s lap. Opening his eyes to search for any sign of approval, Dean merely gave him a stoic nod, more than a good enough response for Seth.

This process was already familiar, or at least enough that Seth didn’t hesitate to pull himself up that lengthy shaft again and then drop himself back down. The pleasure of being stretched around and filled up by Dean’s cock was paralleled only by the way Dean regarded him with indifference, stoically watching Seth fuck himself on his cock.

No, that wasn’t quite it, more so it was Dean who was the most important recipient of the pleasure, and Seth was just there to be an automatic fuck toy. Which in its own amount of irony, only brought Seth even more pleasure. He panted loudly, letting out a cry of indulgence every time he buried Dean’s cock deep inside of him. His hands tightly gripped onto Dean’s shirt, unable to keep from vocalizing.

“Ah! Dean!” Seth moaned out his name indulgently. “Dean!”

At this point, Dean had let out a small sigh, probably one of indulgence but who could say, as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, allowing Seth to continue servicing him.

The only sounds were Seth’s indulgent cries and moans, whimpering and panting at the pathetic notion of taking pleasure in servicing one.

“Is it good?” Seth whimpered, his cheek rubbing against Dean’s collarbone. “Does it feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

Dean said nothing, but his brow furrowed ever so slightly, a low grunt of obvious stimulation painting a pretty good picture.

“I want to make you feel good, it feels amazing when I service you!” Seth continued to ramble, his panting increasingly rapid. “Please let me make you feel g-”

“Doe,” Dean interrupted, his tone absolutely neutral, conveying nothing.

“Uh?” Seth whimpered, stilling for a moment.

Dean’s eyes remained closed, his head tilted back as he let out a breath through his nose. Seth felt a couple twitches of Dean’s cock inside him, making his stomach flutter. After a hum of some sort of stimulation, Dean continued.

“Just ride my cock,” he said, too unbothered and monotonous to even be considered a scolding.

Seth responded by whimpering and nodding his head, returning his motions at the same pace as before.

“Y-Yes Sir!” he cried out before doing his best to keep his sounds subdued.

It was a bit of a challenge, restricting himself to soft whimpers and moans from time to time, though the loud panting remained unchanged. It was easy for Seth to get lost in that submissive headspace that had begun to become more familiar to him as time went on with this dynamic. Dean had experience with this where Seth very much did not, and doing a good job was what Seth strived for more than anything. For Dean who had been well experienced in both sides of the scene for quite some time, being his sub was one of the most important things Seth felt he could be. And he was more than willing to express his devotion despite his inexperience.

Though having slipped up a few times in keeping himself mostly quiet, Seth felt himself beginning to approach the edges of his limitations. He was desperately trying to keep himself from that peak as he continued to bounce up and down on Dean’s lap, the stimulation of taking his cock over and over starting to take its toll.

Thankfully, he seemed as though he wouldn’t have to suffer TOO much, barely taking notice of the way Dean’s fingers gripped the edges of the couch’s back.

“Fuck…” Dean mumbled, barely audible, but audible enough to make Seth bite back a gasp.

Seth increased his pace, risking bringing himself to that edge in a sort of gamble to get Dean off as soon as possible.

“D-Dean!” he couldn’t help but cry out, arching forward and digging his fingers into Dean’s shoulders.

Either the slight amount of pain or the sound of his name on Seth’s lips made Dean let out another sharp breath through his teeth, his cock beginning to throb tellingly deep inside Seth’s cunt.

Seth was desperate now, unable to keep from crying out anymore as he pounded himself up and down Dean’s length.

“Dean!” Seth squealed his name out again.

“Doe,” came Dean’s mumbled, somewhat strained response.

“Huh?” Seth immediately looked at his face with lust-hazed eyes, taking into account the extremely subtle expression.

Dean let out another breath through his teeth, his cock twitching tellingly.

“Gonna cum…”

This was incentive enough for Seth to let loose, his sharp cries of ecstasy ringing through the otherwise quiet apartment as he began to rock his hips back and forth in an increasingly inconsistent rhythm.

It was such a close neck-and-neck, but eventually, Dean was the first to announce his orgasm with an unceremonious grunt, his hips bucking up into Seth’s as he began to spill himself into his tight, wet fuck hole. And in having his role fulfilled, that was enough to release Seth into his own throes of pleasure, bringing his cunt down on Dean’s twitching cock a few more times before locking himself down to the base.

Seth kept himself pressed against Dean, his trembling fingers keeping their grip on his shoulders for just a few moments long before going limp, a whine leaving him as he shuddered through his extremely satisfying climax.

Dean was a lot more quiet, practically silent save for his soft huffs, but undoubtedly just as satisfied. As he and Seth both came down from their peaks, breathing shallowly against each other, Dean took the incentive to wrap his strong arms around Seth’s petite frame, bringing a hand up to pet his hair. Letting out a sigh through his nose, he opened his eyes, finally looking down at Seth and regarding the trembling mess.

“Good boy. That was perfect,” he said, his tone still mostly flat, but softer now, with a twinge of audible affection.

Seth shivered at the praise, snuggling up to Dean’s chest as if trying to steady himself from such an intense effort. Dean was more than happy to reward him for his efforts, stroking his hair and occasionally kissing the top of his head in silent reassurance.

“Got you to quit working, didn’t it?” Dean finally spoke in earnest, the way Seth tensed in his arms making the barest hint of a smirk twitch at the corners of his mouth. “Taking you to bed now, be a good boy and listen to Sir, yeah?”

Seth merely nodded into his chest, making Dean huff in a sort of stoic amusement as he effortlessly lifted him.

“Gonna fuck that shitty sleep schedule out of you if it’s the last thing I do.”

#dream fics #are you mine

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noteveryoneis · 1 year ago

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Ava Silva’s trademarks are the mistakes she makes along the way.

She knows that, her ex knows that, her kids know that, even the cat lady across the street knows that. Everyone in her little hometown knew that.

Everyone and their mothers thought Ava Silva had hit rock-bottom when she ended up knocked up at sixteen years old by her stupid little high school boyfriend, but no, Ava kept digging. She just had to keep the baby, marry the guy and move out of the state to have two more kids with him before the age of twenty-four. JC was a good guy, he loved her, loved their girls, he was kind and he cared about them. Until he didn’t, breaking up with Ava and asking her to take full custody of the girls, without a single afterthought.

“We weren’t ready,” he had said. “I’m not ready to be a father.”

Good thing he had realized that now, their first baby was almost into her pre-teen at that point — and she had glared at him from the darkness of the hallway of their shitty little apartment as Ava sat across from him at the kitchen table, defeated.

So it’s expected for this new decision to turn out to be another mistake. Even Ava knows it.

Still, it looks good, on paper. A fresh new start. Just the four of them, Ava and her girls. Back to her hometown, the place she knows by heart and could navigate with her eyes closed. Hell, she even found a job and a whole new house — small and cramped but like Camila said it herself: “The good thing about growing up in social housing is that whatever you find here, it’s gonna look like Disneyland to them”. And yeah, she wasn’t wrong.

Ava turns right into the small driveway surrounded by yellow grass and sun-burnt rose bushes — she’s pretty sure they can save them, with determination and a lot of research on Google. The girls have their noses to the windows, except for Neves who is asleep in her child car seat. The eight hour drive has exhausted them all, the car is covered in sandwich crumbs, coffee mist — Ava’s lifesaver at that point — and Takis dust. She’s pretty sure she has a sunburn mark all around her sunglasses, but she doesn’t really know if she can get sunburned through the windshield — fingers crossed that she isn’t.

“There it is,” Ava announces as she turns off the ignition. “Our new home.”

Dear God her divorce is turning her into a middle-aged white suburban dad in a horror movie.

“It’s ugly,” Nina comments from the back seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not choosing it for its pretty face, bug,” Ava says, holding onto her patience like a life buoy (Nina hates everyone and everything since they have announced their separation, even more when it became clear that Ava was separating her from her father). “We’re choosing it because it has a roof and four walls, and good water pressure.”

And because it’s basically the only thing affordable that isn’t in a trailer park.

“I like it,” Nova comments timidly from the passenger seat.

Ava smiles at her, sending her a wink. At least that one is making it easy.

“Come on, let’s go, it’s gonna be night soon.”

The truck with their things will be here tomorrow, Camila will come to help them and properly meet the girls (according to the texts she had been sending Ava for the last few weeks, she was overly excited and bouncing around at the idea of being so close to ‘her girls’).

Ava opens the creaking door, climbs out of the car, grimacing as the joints in her knees crack painfully. Yeah. She’s definitely a middle-aged dad. The wind carries the smell of the sea all the way here, washing away the nauseous aroma of Takis and coffee, Ava already feels like she can breathe a little better.

Neves’ little head is leaning on the headrest of her car seat, cheeks red, curly dark hair drawing a halo around her little face. She looks absolutely adorable. They all did, her girls, at that age. Well, they’re still cute today, but it’s like Nova’s presence is slowly fading away from her face, and Nina was always the more flashing beauty — all in bright smiles and charming light in her eyes, just like her parents.

Ava takes great care as she unbuckles her little harness, reaching up to brush against her cheek and the softness of her eyelashes. Her baby. Her babies, they’re all her babies.

Nina wiggles out of her seatbelt, bringing Ava back to the task at hand.

“You girls go ahead, I’ll be right there to open the door.”

“Okay,” Nova says, unbuckling herself and climbing out, Nina jumping behind her.

Ava brushes her lips against Neves’ forehead, stroking the pad of her thumb across her cheek.

“Wake up, baby, we’re here.”

Neves shifts in her seat, but doesn’t even open her eyes.

“Come on, Neves, wake up, cutie-pie, we’re home now.”

Neves shakes her head, eyes still close.

“No? You don’t want to see your room?” Ava asks, giggling a little. “Damn. That’s too bad. Guess I’ll watch Paw Patrol all alone with the girls huh. That’s sooo sad.”

That gets Neves to open one eye, squinting at her mother as if trying to call bullshit on her. Ava raises an eyebrow and Neves stretches her arms over her head, whining loudly as if to convey how tired she is. Life is hard when you’re a five year old sleeping in a car.

“I know, baby, I know,” Ava says. “Come on now, let’s go see the house.”

She reaches out and picks Neves up, hugging her to her chest with one arm under her legs as the girl ties them around her waist, burying her face in her neck. Ava pushes the door closed, makes her way around the car towards the front of the house while searching for her keys in the pockets of her shorts. Both Nova and Nina are waiting for her on the porch — yes, the porch, Ava is very proud of that one — stretching their arms, little t-shirts riding up to show their tummies. Once upon a time, Ava and JC used to tickle them every time they’d do that, starting a tickle fight that JC always won. It’s when Nova started expressing that she didn’t want that that things got a little tense, since her father didn’t understand and would get offended.

Ava shakes her head, wiggles her keys as she slides them into the lock, the key ring that Nina made for mother’s day in pre-K jiggling against her palm.

The door opens into a dark room that smells musty but that’s probably because all the windows and shutters haven’t been opened for weeks.

“Here we are,” Ava says, turning the lights on.

An endless room stretches in front of them, turning to the right around the staircase, which is right next to the door, after the narrow hallway leading to the smallest bathroom. Ava can already see the vision: the thrifted couch and chairs, the living room table they found on the sidewalk, the cushions the girls use for a pillow fight. It will all be their space, theirs and theirs alone.

“The kitchen is all the way to the right,” Ava explains as Nova and Nina start running ahead, slowly hyping themselves up for the discovery of the house. “There is a small bedroom behind the door after the stairs, I assume it’s gonna be mine if you take the three bedrooms upstairs.”

“Wait what?”

Both girls come back running, Nina with a confused frown on her face.

“Three bedrooms?”

“Yeah, and there is another bathroom with a bathtub for all three of you, but I gotta warn you: I’m taking a bath in there at least once every two weeks.”

“We all get a bedroom?” Nina asks again, like she didn’t hear a word of that.

“Yeah, I already told you— didn’t I tell you?” Ava frown.

“You did,” Nova whispers, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. “But we didn’t know…”

They didn’t know if she could pull it off. They didn’t know if she wasn’t going to come back empty handed with a guilty and sorry look on her face, telling them that she didn’t get the place and that they were living in the trailer park after all. Ava doesn’t blame them. They’ve both done that a lot.

“So we don’t have to share?” Nina asks.

Ava shakes her head, dropping a kiss into Neves’ hair.

“Nope. Although you’re going to have to decide which one of you gets which room.”

There is a beat of silence as they all look at her, and then both of the little girls are running up the stairs, yelling at each other as Neves asks to be put down and climbs after her sisters, disappearing into the dark.

“No running into the stairs!” Ava yells, but no one listens.

All three of the girls are all shouting in a concert of little voices, trying to decide which room is the biggest — Nina is going to win, because Nova doesn’t fight, she always takes the things her sisters don’t want (bottom bunk, ugliest towel, most-worn out shoes) but right now she’s trying to cheer Nina up, and because Neves, poor little Neves, was unfortunately born to be the youngest of her sisters, and therefore she loses every single argument.

Ava shakes her head in the middle of the front door, a smile tugging at her lips.

She’s a middle-aged white suburban dad from a horror movie, and her girls are okay.

#fic: strangers in this town #ava silva #warrior nun #*entrapta voice*: ask me about my stories I've waited years to talk about my stories #jc is a douche in this au even though the og is the one and only straight boi i don't hate

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bookwormscififan · 7 months ago

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Shirt's As Much Yours As You are Mine

Read on AO3!

A/N: I had this visual of Jackie wearing Phantom's shirt while I was drawing the Jackie bday art, and I couldn't resist writing it into a full thing.

Warnings: Smut.

The sight that greeted Phantom when he returned home and walked into their room was surprising, but not unwelcome. Sitting on the edge of their bed was Jackie, frowning as he struggled to button the shirt he was wearing, fabric straining over muscle giving Phantom a clue as to the problem.

“Oh, hey, Phan. Welcome home. I don’t know why this shirt won’t fit,” Jackie muttered, glancing up briefly to see Phantom in the doorway, gaze not lingering long enough to notice the look of pure hunger and arousal on Phantom’s face.

“God, I love you,” Phantom breathed, shaking his head as he dropped his bag by the door and stepped inside to sit beside Jackie. “Look at how this shirt defines those muscles I love. You’re wearing my shirt, darling.”

“Oh!” Jackie’s face went red, lifting his arms to remove the shirt before pausing as Phantom touched his hand. “P-Phan?” Instead of an answer, Phantom cupped Jackie’s cheek in his free hand to pull him into a kiss, humming in approval when Jackie returned it with equal enthusiasm.

Running his hands over Jackie’s chest, Phantom shifted to straddle Jackie’s lap, loving the tightness of the hero’s grip as his thumbs brushed over his nipples. He trailed one hand down to feel Jackie’s toned stomach as the other moved around to cradle the back of his neck, pulling him forward into another kiss.

Jackie slid his hands around to splay across the dip in Phantom’s back, acting as a support as the kiss deepened, making Phantom lean back to grind against him. Lifting a leg, Jackie managed to spin them so he was sitting against the headboard of the bed, Phantom still straddling his hips before pulling away.

“You are absolutely irresistible in my shirt,” Phantom purred, leaning down to nose away the collar of his shirt so he could nip at Jackie’s neck. “I’d love to see you turn me into a proper mess while wearing it, hero-boy.”

Everyone knew Phantom loved Jackie’s strength, adoring the way he could just hold him up against a wall and kiss him without breaking a sweat. That was a major part of why Phantom loved Jackie so much, but one of the other parts was the way Jackie’s bright blue eyes always darkened, reflecting a stormy sea, whenever he was ready to completely destroy Phantom in bed.

Flipping them so he was hovering above Phantom, Jackie slid a finger along the barman’s jaw until he reached the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning it as he used his knees to spread Phantom’s legs. When he got to the waistcoat, Jackie leaned down to press kisses to the exposed skin before placing a gentle bite to Phantom’s sternum and ripping the shirt and waistcoat off him, tossing it to the side and continuing his kisses.

“That was a good waistcoat,” Phantom said with a pout, arching his back as Jackie tilted his head up to take a nipple between his teeth, rolling it gently before letting go and moving to repeat the action on the other side. “And you tore the buttons of my shirt.”

“Oh, well, if you want to stop and fix those, I’ll wait,” Jackie teased, pulling away slightly only to be tugged back down by Phantom’s hand on the back of his neck, pressing his lips to his ear.

“You’re not leaving this bed until I can’t move or feel my legs, Jackie,” he growled, nipping on Jackie’s earlobe before letting him go, dropping his hands to lay either side of his head. “Now get to work.”

Jackie bit back a moan, leaning back just enough to shimmy his way down Phantom’s body, unbuckling his belt and getting his jeans and boxers off effortlessly. Tossing the clothes aside, Jackie grasped Phantom’s hips, tilting them up toward his mouth before wrapping his lips around his cock, grip making it impossible for Phantom to buck into his mouth.

He hummed at Phantom’s impatient whines, moving his hips instead of bobbing his own head to give Phantom the friction he wanted, slowly squeezing one hand along to grip his ass. Kneading the flesh against his palm, Jackie looked through his lashes at Phantom, pressing his face down to the base of Phantom’s cock when he suddenly came, shouting Jackie’s name and clawing at the sheets.

“That’s one,” Jackie smiled, lowering Phantom back onto the bed before leaning back to remove his sweatpants, fishing around in the bedside drawer for a bottle of lube. “I’ll give you the choice while you catch your breath: tongue or fingers next?”

Phantom’s cheeks flushed red, breath catching in his throat as he tried to parse out what Jackie was planning next, lifting a hand to take Jackie’s and bring it closer to his mouth. Absently he sucked on Jackie’s fingers while he thought, gasping when Jackie poked at his inner thigh with his free hand.

“T-Tongue, I think,” he stammered, whining as Jackie took his hand away. “God, I love your strength,” he moaned, eyes slipping shut as Jackie hooked an arm under his hips and flipped him over, manhandling him onto his knees as if he was clay.

Jackie simply smiled, running his hands along Phantom’s back before kneading the flesh of his ass, parting the cheeks and rolling his tongue in lazy circles around his hole. He waited while Phantom jumped in surprise before prodding the sensitive flesh, pressing in slowly as Phantom relaxed against him.

“G-God,” Phantom stammered, clawing at the sheets in effort not to touch his cock, sighing in relief when Jackie wrapped a hand around him and slowly started to stroke, pressing his tongue in deeper. “There, right there! That’s so good…”

Jackie continued his movements, pumping Phantom at the same pace he was moving his tongue, coating the fingers of his free hand in lube before slipping one in with his tongue, grinning as Phantom moaned. He could tell Phantom was close again, twitching against him, and as he slipped two more fingers in, the barman came, covering the sheets and losing strength in his arms to hold him up.

“Ready for more?” Jackie asked, pressing a kiss to the base of Phantom’s back while wiggling his fingers still inside. When Phantom mumbled in response, Jackie angled his wrist in just the right way to hit that perfect spot inside him, making his back arch.

“Goddamnit, Jackie! Fuck, yes, I want more. I want you to stretch me out, fill me up, make me forget my name! Do I have to—ah!” His rant was cut off by Jackie flipping him over, squirming as his back met the mess on the sheets, and he huffed as the hero pinned his arms to the bed while spreading his legs with his free hand.

“You don’t have to do a thing, bartender,” Jackie’s voice was low, pressing kisses to Phantom’s chest as he slowly pushed in, groaning at the tightness. “You just lay there lookin’ pretty, let me take over for a while.”

Phantom frowned for a moment, ready to respond with some snark, but then Jackie torturously slowly pulled out before snapping his hips, and Phantom saw stars. He strained against Jackie’s hand pinning his wrists, toes curling in the sheets as his breath caught with every thrust Jackie made.

Jackie held Phantom’s hip in an iron grip, pounding into him like he was just a toy, biting dark marks all over his chest and shoulders. He paused when he heard something rip, flexing his arms a little and realising he’d managed to tear the shirt before grinning down at Phantom.

“I must have been working out too much,” he chuckled, leaning down to press his mouth to Phantom’s ears. “I think I’ve beaten my record of big muscles. I wonder if I’ll fit anything anymore.”

“Oh, yeah, I can tell you’ve gotten bigger after all those workouts,” Phantom emphasised his point by clenching around Jackie, giving him a self-satisfied smirk when the hero gasped into his ear. “Now, come on, hero boy, don’t you want to show off how much of a mess you can make me?”

Jackie growled low in his throat, hips snapping faster as he used his full strength on Phantom, bucking into him like it was all he knew how to do. He finally released Phantom’s wrists to trail his fingers down his stomach, grasping his cock and pumping it at an uneven pace.

One hand went to Jackie’s hair, tugging on the locks as the other scratched down his back, tearing more fabric before digging nails into Jackie’s ass, moaning as Phantom felt the toned muscle there. His eyes rolled as Jackie changed the angle of his thrusts to hit the good spot in him every time, making him see stars.

“J-Jackie, close…” he panted, voice hoarse as he grasped Jackie’s hair to tug his head up into a sloppy kiss, slipping a finger between his cheeks to tease him as he came. “Keep-keep going,” he moaned, hand basically cradling Jackie’s hole as he continued to thrust, nipping at his jaw.

“Phan,” Jackie moaned as he came, filling Phantom with warmth before stopping his thrusts, feeling his partner tremble beneath him. “I think I ruined your shirt,” he mumbled, giving Phantom a crooked smile as he lifted an arm with the sleeve hanging off his elbow.

“I didn’t really like that one anyway,” Phantom grinned, leaning up to kiss Jackie’s cheek as he pulled out, running fingers through the hero’s hair to keep him above him for a while longer. Pouting for a moment as Jackie climbed out of the bed, Phantom rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to watch Jackie head to the bathroom. “Maybe you not fitting your clothes might be a good thing.”

“How do you mean? I’d be walking around naked, and I can’t possibly—” Jackie’s question was cut off by Phantom pulling him down into another kiss, tugging on the ruined collar of the shirt to get it off him. “Not that I’m complaining, I could go for another round, but I’m pretty sure you’re not ready for another round for a bit,” he muttered as Phantom danced fingers down his stomach.

“So clean me then let me jerk you off,” Phantom replied, flopping onto his back to let Jackie clean him. “I can’t ride you, but I could suck you off until you fall asleep. If that’s too much, I guess I could just go to bed now, let you work on changing the sheets.”

“Not gonna happen,” Jackie flipped Phantom to clean his back, pulling the messy sheet from under him and tossing it aside. “I’m getting back in this bed and you’re going to make good on that offer.”

Phantom smiled as Jackie climbed into bed, leaning against the headboard and wrapping fingers around his own cock, waiting until Phantom had crawled between his legs before he cupped his cheek.

“I love your stamina,” Phantom praised, watching Jackie’s face flush before leaning down to take him in his mouth, hands braced on Jackie’s thighs.

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

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @rattyboyisemo @dungeon-dragons-dragons

#writing #fanfiction #nwtb fanfiction #jacksepticeye fanfiction #phantomhero #booky's spice shelf #thank you Veggie for the dialogue ideas and the proofing #let Jackie have some fun #he gotta put up with Phan wanting to push him against a door every night at the bar #give him an evening in the bedroom

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 5 months ago

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ah!! I am WEAK for a Jason Todd that gets subby for the reader. This fic had me foaming at the mouth and shaking. I'm actually unwell over here. I talk about my favorite parts under the cut:

"Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such."

I giggled over this. There are so many inside thoughts that will never see the light of day but I am so glad this one did.

"You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot."

I dunno how op got my literal 24/7 thought process but there it is.

"His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable."

Gremlin energy! I love it

"You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid. You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing."

eee, op!! Yes, please and thank you, rabid is 100% the right word. Or feral. Either way I wanna dig my nails into this fic and never let go.

"Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought!"

I don't even need to add anything, everything that needs to be said has been said about how crazy my feelings are for him.

"Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend."

Ah, wait, I picture him doing that in a moment that's soft and sweet and safe. Such a great insight into his and readers relationship.

"You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle."

I feel like I need to salute them for that move. (They are living my dream)

"Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun."

Fantastic, I love it when he gets teased a little.

"You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?" "Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time."

I am GIGGLING. Okay, maybe I like it when he gets teased a lot.

Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."

I am SCREAMING. He deserves all the nice things and someone to take care of him and also I bet his eyes are so pretty and glassy in that moment. (Inside thought)

"You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back."

I am sighing sooo dreamily right now

"He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you."

Fanning my face over this, I don't even have the words anymore. wow.

"You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves."

!!! I am far too embarrassed to type out all my thoughts on this but the noise I made when I read this was inhuman. Gonna stick my face in the fridge, thank you for your work, op!

smut 18+ only, fucking jason on the kitchen floor, feral horny afab reader who wants to maul jason, unprotected sex, breeding kink, submissive jaytodd!!! rock on!!!

The first time you go absolutely batshit feral over Jason, he's cleaning the apartment.

He's done nothing to provoke your ferality (he never does), and usually, you keep it to yourself. Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such.

So you're not quite sure what compels you to act the way that you do.

First, Jason's in clothes that don't help your insanity. The shirt is Dick's (Jason insists that he did NOT have an emo phase, thank you), so the cropped quality of the My Immortal t-shirt isn't by design. Jason's just big.

Yes, yep, your boyfriend sure is a big boy. That's all you can think about as you watch him over the top of your open book while he attacks the kitchen floor with his Swiffer Jet. He's humming a song you don't recognize.

You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.

The next thought that hits you is how soft and squishy your boyfriend is. Jason's sweatpants are baggy, the baggiest he could find, and they still can't hide how humongous his thighs are. His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable.

Your gazes moves to the strip of belly that flexes and flutters with every movement. Jason's stomach isn't perfectly flat, a fact that you know sometimes bothers him. You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid.

You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing. You love watching Jason in action, love watching him wield his powerful body. But you also love him like this: using his body to take care of himself, his space, and you.

Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought! Jason would staunchly refuse and probably get you checked for head trauma if you requested such a thing, but you can dream.

Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend. You try to keep it to a manageable level, not wanting to startle or overwhelm him. You know Jason's complicated relationship with his body. You respect his boundaries.

But still, the thoughts linger...

Your feet carry you to the kitchen before you can think about it. Jason's done with the mop and has moved to wiping the counters. You seize the opportunity to get behind him.

"Hey, baby," Jason says before you reach him. He keeps wiping. And that's another thing: Jason is highly competent. His training makes him hear you before you've reached him. If you were an evil goon, you'd be on the floor before you could inhale. You also find that concerningly hot.

You stick yourself to his back and wrap your arms around his stomach. You grab handfuls of the layer of fat that covers his muscles, brushing your thumbs over where his hair thickens below his bellybutton.

"What's up, hm?" Jason asks, patting your hand.

"You're really hot," you say.

He snorts, glances behind at you. "I'm what now?"

"Hot. Juicy. I wanna maul you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," you say peacefully, groping his waist. "Soon as possible."

"I'm free for a mauling in ten minutes. That work for you?"

"I don't know if I can wait that long." You slip your hands up his shirt. "Mind if I feel you up while I wait?"

Jason laughs but it comes out a little airy. "You're a menace."

"I'm crazy about you."

"Mm, I've noticed. Feeling's mutual."

"No, no." You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle.

Jason drops his dishcloth. You soothe your teeth marks with your tongue.

"You don't understand," you say, shifting so you're pressing Jason against the counter edge. He lets you keep him there. "I'm crazy about you. I wanna eat you, Jay. Let me eat you."

"Jesus, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.

"Hopefully you," you say, unrepentant.

Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun.

"C'mon, Jay, let me fuck you. I wanna fuck you on the kitchen floor," you say, past coyness.

He full-body shudders. "I jus' cleaned."

You grin against his arm, pawing at his hip. "I'll help you mop again, honey pie. Deal?" You're eyeing his stomach next, ready to suck his skin there.

Jason can't deny you for long. You both know that.

"You're persuasive," he says, eyelids fluttering.

You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?"

"Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time.

"Is that a yes?" You cup his balls like you're choosing a bull for breeding. Jason buckles under your brazenness. "Yes, you want me to let you fuck my pussy? Yes, you want me to fuck you on the floor?"

"Yeah, yeah, please."

So Jason lets you push him down onto the tiles. You yank his sweats down first, then his underwear. He's already leaking onto his stomach.

"Fuck," you say, grabbing and holding Jason's wrists on either side of his head. "You gonna give me what I want, sweetie? Love of my life, handsomest guy I've ever seen?"

Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."

You smile gently.

"I'm nice for taking you on the kitchen floor, huh?" you ask, bending your knees and lining up his cock to your cunt. "What if I make you wait until I come first?"

Jason nods again, already breathing hard. "I want to, I wanna wait. You should come first. I want you to come first. I don't have ta come at all."

You raise an eyebrow. That's new. New, but not unwelcome.

"So even when I..." You sink down on his cock, just the tip. Jason whimpers in the back of his throat. "Do that? You don't need to come?"

You feel him flex under your hands but he's good and stays put. He doesn't break your hold even though he could. You grin.

"Oh-oh. Sweet boy. My best guy. Look at you, big and hard. You could take me if you wanted, but you don't want that, do you? You want me to take what I want from you. All that muscle and strength, but what d'you need, Jaybee? Hm? Tell me."

"Need you," he says, voice strained. "Need you to do whatever y'want."

You kiss under his jaw and dig your nails into his wrists. Then you sink further onto Jason's cock. His hips twitch but he doesn't thrust like he usually does.

"Will you kiss me?" he asks when he bottoms out, body strung tight like a bow.

"I did kiss you," you say, smiling into his neck.

"On th'lips," Jason says, fingers shaking. "Please? Please."

You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back. You begin to move. Jason's shoulders tense.

"You're so perfect," you say against his lips. "You'd be so perfect at knocking me up. Any time I wanted, you'd be hard and ready to come in me, right?"

"Ah-ah," Jason says, voice wrecked. "Y-yeah, yeah. As much as y'want. Do anything y'want. I'd do anything."

"Yeah, I know," you say, grunting as you slide back onto him. "I know, sweetheart. Pretty boy. Y'dunno what you got with this fat cock. Can barely speak when your dick's wet."

You do a particularly hard grind and growl against Jason's sweaty throat. You lick the salt from his Adam's apple, feel it bob against your tongue. Then you bite.

"Oh, oh," he whines, and your gut tightens further at his sounds.

"Don't come," you snarl, pussy like a vice. "I come first."

Jason shakes his head, lips parted. His pulse throbs against your mouth. "No, no, won't. I won't. I'm good. I'll be good. 'M I good?"

You pet his hair, voice softening. "You're good, Jason. So good, baby. So good that I gotta take you right here on the floor. You understand, right? I was aching over there, watching you. I had to fuck you. Had to use your big dick for something."

"Uh-huh," he says, voice wet and sticky with pleasure. "Y'had to. I can do it. I wanna be good for you."

He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you. You feel that familiar tightness, the edge of your impending orgasm.

"Rub my clit," you say, letting go of his right hand, and Jason obeys instantly, locating and deftly rubbing your clit.

"Harder," you tell him, and he rubs harder. Your mouth falls open as the pleasure swells. "Yeah. This is what you're made for. Pleasing me."

One of these days, you'll broach the subject of Jason putting those muscles to good use and fucking you doggy-style, whining in your ear as he shoots load after load into you.

"I'm gonna come," you say, cunt tightening. "Are you gonna come?"

Jason shakes his head desperately. "No. No, no, y'said not to. Not gonna come!"

"A-are you sure?" you ask, grinning as Jason makes uh-uh's in the back of his throat.

"Won't come, I promise, won't come," he says, near tears.

You come, tightening hard around Jason's cock. He nearly howls, the corners of his eyes wet, tendons pulled taut in his neck.

But he doesn't come, true to his word.

Sloppily, you kiss him. Jason kisses you back, but it's frenzied. You know his brain must be soup with the effort it's taking to not come.

"Look at you," you say, gaze hungrily roving over Jason's swollen nipples, his red face, his drawn eyebrows. "You listened so well. Y'wanna touch me? Wanna hold me?"

Jason nods frantically. "Yeah, yeah, please, baby, please, can I?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Hold me how you want and make yourself come. Don't be gentle."

Jason hesitates at the last direction. "Don't be gentle? Are y'sure?"

You pinch his nipple lightly. Jason bucks his hips. Your eyes narrow.

"I'm sure. Gimme everything you got, big guy."

You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves.

It only takes him a few thrusts before hot cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, nails scratching Jason's biceps.

"I want more," you say, grinding shallowly against his cock. Jason cries out, and more cum fills you.

"Was that good?" Jason asks, holding you closer.

You grin. "We're definitely doing that again."

Except, maybe not right after Jason's cleaned. You're not that mean.

#rae's fic recs #jason todd x reader #18+ mdni #smut

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fr0ginthemoon · 3 months ago

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“Now, listen to me very carefully.” Sir Caspia leans forwards, pulling my eyes to him. Wind gusts around me, billowing through the tall stalks of grass like waves in the sea.

It’s finally time. A tremor of excitement oscillates throughout my body, starting in my chest and working its way out to my fingers, toes, and to the very ends of every hair on my head. Magic. I can’t help but wonder what I’m going to cast first. I grew up watching the nobles call fire from the sky and iron from the earth, and now it's my turn to join the hallowed ranks of heroes that I've adored for so long.

Sir Caspia raises his voice above the wind. “I want you to repeat after me exactly. Don’t change a single word. Do you understand?” He meets my eyes and refuses to look away until I affirm the words. Then he leans back. The sky behind him is a dark gray, and growing darker. Briefly, I wonder if it will rain. Then I return my focus to the lesson. Sir Caspia takes one breath, then another, steadying himself.

My heart is racing, my mind whirring between every possible outcome. It’s a little scary, casting for the first time. But the thrill overcomes the fear and besides, I’ve practiced this a thousand fold. That’s right. It’ll be just like practice. Sir Caspia spreads his arms and turns his face to the sky. Then, he cries,

The sun and the moon follow after you, the eternal keeper of peace. You are the object of our hearts, the light in our eyes, and we ask that you show your face to your devotees. Come, now, and hear our woes.

I chant the invocation, channeling all of my soul into each word. They roll off of my tongue with an eminent sense of familiarity, a deja vu as if I had said these words before, or as if I was always meant to say them. The words spark with a comforting warmth, flowing out through my body and into the cold autumn air. For a moment, nothing else happens. It is a moment further until I realize that nothing is exactly what has happened. The grass is frozen in place, the stalks bent by wind in waves across the rolling plains. The first drops of rain float suspended mere feet from my hair, which moves in slow-motion, trailing behind me as I twirl to take in the scene around me. Even sir Caspia stands inanimate, like some statue erected in a town square. No sound comes from the landscape. Everything is tranquil, unmoving.

Peaceful.

Then as I watch, the clouds split as if parted by an invisible hand, rending them in twain. A presence descends to the ground, invisible, yet powerfully present in that manner which only a god could possibly devise. It drifts over the ground, wisping this way and that until, finally, it comes to me. It curls about me, embracing me like the first warm morning of January. It is a breathtaking feeling in its presence, intoxicatingly comforting. It is at once a fire in the midst of the harshest winter and a lover’s kiss, drawing my soul to its center. Each moment here stretches out into eternity, and one that I would loathe to give up. It is food to the hungry, a home for the broken, and new life for the weary.

Sheer bliss.

The presence leans even closer to me, whispering into my ear. In its voice is an unfaltering will, and every word it speaks is law. “Be still,” it whispers. “Be calm, daughter of the moon.” And my body sags like a cub held by the nape, held up only by the presence as it gently croons to me.

I can feel, in the way that it holds me close, that it knows. It knows my past and future, my greatest accomplishments and my deepest fears. It feels intimately every regret and sorrow. And it is that which it whispers of. It reminds me who I am, and tells me that no matter how long it takes, that it will always be here, waiting. Then it utters one last thing. The name, “Amaranth.” It hums with potential, a name so hidden in the depths of the earth as never to be found unwilling by the presence.

“This is my name, my very essence. Should you speak it, I will be wherever you are.” As the presence ascends back into the sky, it shows itself, briefly. Eight arms adorn a body far larger than life. It is covered with eyes of all different colors and origins; on its forehead is a hawk’s eye, and along its arms are the eyes of every woodland creature. Then, the apparition is gone. The clouds close, and just as suddenly as it stopped, the rain once again begins to fall. Sir Caspia blinks once, then looks at me, sensing some change. Certainly, I feel different. It is as if there is another being inside of me, laying dormant in my chest

“Did you succeed?” Sir Caspia offers me a cloak from his pack.

I reach for the cloak, then turn my hand towards the sky. “Amaranth, be with me.” The name seems to resonate with some other plane even as I whisper it, and at once Sir Caspia and I are seperate from the rain. It slows, then stops as it approaches, forming a dome of safety.

Sir Caspia smiles, the first genuine smile I’ve ever seen from the stoic behemoth that is my tutor. “Congratulations, my lady. On becoming a knight.”

#creative writing #writers on tumblr #writing

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wanderersbell · 2 years ago

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NO BC SAME I LOVE THE FUCKIN ROBOT'S LEGS SM I MIGHT JUST WRITE SOME NSFW OF EM

Anyways here's the Scara(Harbinger) NSFW as promised~

As always, GN!Reader, reader is dom! No genitals mentioned for reader~!

Content warnins: Public place(a forest but noone's around), markin(Scara recievin), edging(Scara recievin), slight degradation if you squint(Scara recievin), dry humpin(Scara recievin, mentioned briefly at the end that reader recieves it too), reader has a God complex if u squint.

Scaramouche wasn't used to soft, loving touches, he would often flinch at your gentleness, moving away before stopping as he noticed you falter, thinking that your affections weren't welcomed, at that he would grow closer once more, turning his head away and using his large hat to conceal his expression.

That's when you continued, soft caresses to his hair and cheeks, loving oh so loving words that only he was allowed to hear, praises that would make even Gods drop to their knees in weakness and adoration. The Balladeer could only try and fail to hide his reddening face and neck under his hat. You let him have it his way, for a bit.

You'd both been sitting on the ground, resting under the shade of a tree as per your request since he oh so kindly refused to let you take a break from the scorching sun under his hat. It had only been a few minutes since you moved to sit atop his lap, facing him as you started an impromptu affection session, as regular the Harbinger hid himself under his hat, that is until you snatched it and placed it on the grass besides him. The jellyfish cut boy was left a sputtering mess and you cut down his incoming embarrassed tantrum by kissing his lips. It was a short peck but as you pulled away you saw him chase after your lips so you dipped in once more, this time a deeper kiss, slow and passionate, threatening to steal his breath away despite his lack of need for oxygen.

It was only when you heard a small, trembling whine slip past his lips that you pulled away, taking a moment to catch your own breath you admire the mess you quickly made out of the 6th. When you saw his eyes come back to focus on your being you dove back for another kiss, only this time you aimed at his jawline, you heard Scaramouche's breath hitch as you lowered a trail of kisses down to his nonexistent pulse, he flinched, tensed and then shivered as you licked the zone before biting it and finally sucking on it, his eyes fluttered closed as he leaned back on the tree and moved his head up to allow you more space, space which you greedily took as you littered his neck in love bites and hickeys, all where you knew he wouldn't be able to hide them. You always enjoyed the way the Fatui would stare at any and all marks you left on him, even Harbingers would whisper amongst eachother. You were snapped back to reality when you heard another whine come from him, then you noticed his heavy breathing, almost panting, the way he let out a mix between breathy and pleased sighs and whines that bordered a tad bit too close on moans.

You ran your hands across his indigo locks, lowering them to the back of his neck, then to his spine and finally you rested them on his waist, keeping a firm grip of them as you gave him an ocassional squeeze.

This continued on for a coulple of minutes, The Balladeer growing more and more restless by the second, his breathy sighs now full on moans and his whines and whimpers now pleas. One particular time that he squirmed you ended up sitting right on his groin, halting for just a second as you felt his clothed erection poke you. Letting out a small chuckle you bit down harsh enough to draw blood and he screamed, not in pain, but in pleasure, to make it worse for the Harbinger you had decided to start slowly but deeply grinding on his hard on, thing that was driving him insane as it was nowhere near enough to make him reach his peak.

Without a warning you pulled away from his neck with a wet, loud pop, you gave a few more grinds, making sure they were deeper, quicker, that they drove him to the edge and just as he was about to fall into the pleasure he'd been so desperately chasing, you stood up grabbing his hat and putting it back where it belonged on his head. The Balladeer had his eyes closed still, humping the air for a coulple of seconds before realizing and opening his eyes only to see you grabbing your stuff and getting ready to continue your travels with him.

"H-Huh? Hey w-where do you think you're going?!" Scaramouche asked with an equally embarrassed, irritated and desperate tone, "Finish what you started!"

You could only look back at him and giggle, "I didn't start anything, you did! Besides we're on a time crunch~!"

The Balladeer spent the rest of the mission on a worse mood than ever but it was all worth it for as soon as you two got back home, back to his private quarters, he crumbled, begging you with tears in his eyes as he humped you like a bitch in heat. He insisted that he needed you, he prayed that you finally had mercy on him, that he'd worship you if you just let him finish this one time.

And you knew he would, so you did.

THIS IS SO??? OMFG-

bless your soul for this goddamn 🛐 edging scara >>>>> he is so needy i am once again thinking abt spoiling him i am actually unwell because of this i’m gonna be thinking abt this all day crow u are a godsend

#asks! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°#moots ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#aly thirsts #TY FOR THIS I AM ROTTING #BARK BARK BARL #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader

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saintmurd0ck · 3 years ago

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hey rhii congratulations for 500 followers ! This is just the start many many more to come ahead !!!!!

Can we get Jealous Matt headcannons when you deliberately flirt with Frank 👉👈

hi lexi my love! thank you so much for your unending adoration and support, im so grateful for you 💕🥺 my head is currently stuffed FULL of jealous matt so pls enjoy xoxox

check out my 500 sleepover!

smut headcanons | deliberately flirting with frank to piss matt off

matt's jealousy is definitely one of the few things that get to you, even though you know it means nothing most of the time. you're always reminding him that he's got nothing to worry about, and it's true -- he doesn't -- but god, does it feel good to tease him when he's getting on your nerves.

and there's a surefire way to get matt's blood boiling: flirting with frank castle.

it's hard to describe matt and frank's relationship, so you don't pretend to understand, but you know they're close. close enough that they go on missions together, that they get drunk together, that they rile each other up. so where do you come in? it's simple. frank's got a thing for you and it's loud and clear. he tries his best to hide it, especially around matt, but you're not dumb.

it's stuff like this that makes your jaw tighten:

"oh hey, matt, frank dropped these off for you today," you tap on the side of the beer bottles before putting them in the fridge.

"he was here?"

"yes, matthew."

"alone?"

you grumble, mouth opening in protest.

"you know castle has it bad for you, right?" matt groans, pulling you close to him as he wanders into the kitchen.

you roll your eyes, tilting your head back as you press a kiss to matt's neck. "cool it, murdock. you know i'm yours."

so what do you do when frank comes over to see you matt? maybe it's a hug that lingers a little too long, the scent of frank's cologne imprinting into your skin, or the way matt can hear the blood rush to frank's... body parts... when you pinch his cheek and tell him he looks like he's been sleeping well.

matt looks funny jealous, with his face all scrunched up and eyebrows furrowed, hand tightening around the beer bottle as he takes another sip, every swallow accentuated as he listens to the cues of the people before him.

"so frank," you say, plopping down next to him on the couch, hand reaching over to absentmindedly rub matt's knee. "matty here's been saying the two of you are working out at fogwell's together?"

frank nods, corners of his mouth upturning into a small smile. "red could use a few tips."

you throw your head back with overenthusiastic laughter, leaning forward to squeeze frank's bicep, dragging your fingers over the fabric of his shirt, knowing matt can hear the friction of the fibres sticking to your fingertips. he lets out a little snarl that he passes as a cough.

"something wrong, matty?" you ask innocently, tracing idle circles on matt's thigh.

he clears his throat. "i-- uh, can i just see you real quick?" he grabs your hand, taking you into the bedroom, then pushing past the bathroom door.

he slams his beer bottle down on the bathroom counter, not caring that with his strength it could smash at any time. "what the hell are you doing?"

"what, matt?"

matt wipes at his mouth before putting his hands on his hips. "what's with the" -- he mocks your laughter from earlier -- "and the" -- he drags his fingers over your arm, drawing from you a stifled gasp.

his eyebrows raise at the sound he's just drawn from you, so he does it again. runs his finger over your skin, except where your collarbone is. then, as the scent of your arousal suddenly begins to flood his senses, he pushes you up onto the counter, pressing himself into where you're throbbing.

"i was... trying to teach you a lesson," you whisper, grinding into him, wrapping your hands around his neck.

matt low chuckle sends tingles down your spine. "oh we'll see who's teaching who in a second."

frank doesn't know what to do except cover his ears at the sound of you coming apart in the bathroom, your mantra of "yes matty i'm yours" getting progressively louder.

frank mutters to himself as he tries to ignore the sound of your pleasure, nostrils flaring as he bites his lip, willing his erection to disappear. "whatever red, you proved your point."

oh, but matt's resounding smirk is the indication that he can hear every word frank says under his breath, his grip tightening on your throat as he fucks into you harder, body shuddering as you cry out his name, flooding his cock with an orgasm that has you shaking.

matt grunts hoarsely. "now i have."

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil smut #the punisher #frank castle #daredevil x reader #saintmurd0ck 500 milestone celebration #rhi's mutuals 💗#rhi responds 💌#rhi writes 💻#x reader

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simpscripts · 3 years ago

Text

Working Hard (Viktor x Reader)

Warnings: 18+, Nsfw

Prompt: You absolute love how flushed and embarrassed your boyfriend can get. You decided to push it to the limit by giving him a blowjob under his work desk when Jayce happens to show up.

Viktor got such a cute shade of red every-time you managed to fluster him, leaving you with the devilish craving to do it as often as possible. Little pinches to his ass in public, moving his hand onto your thigh under tables, and many dirty little secrets whispered into his ear just before he was going to talk to someone. His breath got uneven so quickly, face flushing, and a quivering shutter as he spoke. God he was fucking adorable and you just wanted to push him as far as you could.

Which is how you now find yourself kneeling under his desk, looking up with him with sin spilling from your eyes, and caressing his thighs forcing them to spread wider for you.

“Darling anybody could walk in and I am trying to work.” His voice was already taking on a slight lilt of a needy whine. He was looking at you eyes lost for words and you leaned in to it.

Unzipping his pants, you kept steady eye contact with him, taking your precious time and making a show out of your own facial expressions. Biting your lip, extending your breath so it exaggerates your chest movements, pulling your eyes away just brief enough to glance at how much he was straining in his briefs. You just can’t help the smile that breaks over your face.

Your staring up at him through your eyelashes as you work to remove him from his briefs. His breath is shaking and as you go to lick up his length he quickly brings a hand forward to curl into your head.

“Fuck” He is whispering out little curses all ready, so much pleasure building already with the added height of fear of being caught.

“Love, Fuck!” He was never one to be quiet during sex, always so touched starved. “Dear what about my work or” His sentenced is cut off with a gasp from him as you take him all the way down and hold him there. His hand grips tighter and he relaxes his body back, leaning his head back over the chair.

From this new angle his eyes make contact with the door to see the knob starting to turn. He snaps upwards immediately, hand pulling you off him, and tries scooting more into his desk.

“Viktor! Just the man I wanted to see” You could hear Jayce’s booming voice echo throughout the room as he announces his arrival. Now is where the real fun begins.

You sit back for a minute, giving Viktor a short breather, all the while luring him into a feeling of security that you would hold off in the presence of not only another person but your friend.

“Ahh Jayce, I was expecting you would be out with councilor Medarda?” You try to suppress your giggles as you listen to him try his damned hardest to sound normal and not like a shaking flustered mess.

“Hey you all right there buddy? You look a little flushed.” You could hear the larger mans footsteps drawing closer to the desk. With baited breath you start prepping to jump back in at the perfect moment.

“Oh no I am fine I promise, just very distracted by... work.. is all” You can see him sneaking a peak down at you, his eyes pleading for mercy.

“I am worried about you Viktor, you work yourself too hard.” Bingo, you take him back in your hands to suckle on the tip lightly. Running your tongue along the heads edge, torturing the bundles of nerves.

“Ah” He gasps out quickly before coughing to cover it up. “I appreciate it my friend but I promise I am quite all right.”

You refuse to hold back now, taking him as far down as you can, sucking every inch. You swiped your tongue along the veins and full let yourself enjoy his taste beading onto your tongue. You should applaud Viktor, sure he is a trembling mess huffing out like he just ran a marathon, but he has managed to keep the screams you know are bubbling in his throat down.

“You really don’t sound too good, why don’t I get you some soup or something? It’s the least I can do.” Jayce was begging, concern evident in his tone.

“Please” You honestly aren’t sure if his words were directed at you or Jayce but you carried on your rhythm up.

“Yea yea of course, just wait right here!” Jayces footsteps jogged out of the room.

With the slamming of the door Viktor quickly pushed back his chair, pulling your mouth of his cock with a pop.

You can’t help but grin at him as you watch him heave for breaths, glaring you down in his stare.

“You vicious little void creature.” You beamed under the nickname. “Well you started this mess, you might as well come over here and finish the job”

He was trying to take control, to feel some semblance of keeping it together but the second your tongue reached him again he was lost. Curses and praises alike spill from his lips as he surrenders to your ministrations. You thought he might have a stroke as you sucked his spit covered balls into your mouth, rolling them around as softly as you can as your hand stroked him in randomized paces.

“I will get you back for this darling.” His words are panted out in between heavy breaths.

Removing yourself briefly you lock eyes with him. “Is that a threat?” You lightly scrape your teeth just on the cluster of nerves along the head and looking back up at him with a devilish grin.

“Its a fucking promise” his hand laced back into your hair pushing you back down on his length.

You can tell he is starting to get close and once more take him down, feeling his heartbeat pump along your tongue as he empties himself down your throat. You let him finish out his high before pulling back slightly, giving little kitten licks all around to clean up every little bit of cum still attached.

“Umm I am just going to set the soup down here” Both of your heads snap over at the door watching Jayce’s body quickly retreat back out the door. Both of your faces burned bright red as you slowly looked back at each other.

“So.... soup?”

#viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor arcane #smut #viktor x reader smut #arcane smut #arcane imagines #arcane x reader

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meownotgood · 2 years ago

Text

♡ size difference / gojo satoru ♡

♡ kinktober 2022 ♡

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

content: soft dom gojo, praise, stomach bulge, blowjob, gojo loves how small his favorite fan is compared to him

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

There's a lot of things Gojo adores about you. You're sweet as hell, enough to satisfy his sweet-tooth. You're a fan of his too, and your flattery is something he's never been able to resist.

When you met him for the first time, running up to him and eagerly asking for an autograph — You're the world's strongest sorcerer! I'm a huge fan! — Gojo knew he was bound to become obsessed. Honestly, you're just so damn adorable, and one thing he noticed immediately, one thing that drew him to you from the very start was how small you are compared to him.

He had to lean down in order to take the pen and paper from you. When he did, he took note of how his hands were at least twice the size of yours, how you had to tilt your head all the way up just to look at him.

Of course, sweetheart. Glad to know you're a fan of mine, He replied with a smirk, scribbling his name onto the page and adding a heart at the end. He placed the pen and paper back into your hands carefully, hunching over again to speak into your ear, Y'know, for special fans like you, I'm willing to give a lot more than autographs.

Gojo was hooked on you from the moment he got a taste. His frame completely dwarfs yours when he wraps his large arms around you. His jacket is enormous on your body; it practically goes down to your knees and the sleeves fully cover your hands.

You're addicting, to say the least. Even back then, he was sure he was going to make you his, in one way or another. And even now that he has, he's still so damn obsessed with you it almost scares him.

He grabs your hand, and the way his thick fingers fold over your much smaller ones never fails to make his cock twitch in his pants. It's easy for him to effortlessly lift you and pin you under him. He's at least a hundred times stronger than you, so he could really do whatever he wants to you. The best part is that he knows you'd let him.

Anything he asks for, you'll do. Whatever he desires from you, you'll give. Fuck, just the sight of you, so pretty and demure — It makes him need you so desperately he can hardly stand it.

You look even better when he's got you pushed to your knees in front of him, your fingers wrapped around the hem of his boxers as you hesitantly pull them down. He can tell the way nervousness lingers in your gaze, so he threads his long fingers through your hair and holds the back of your head securely. He mumbles, "You can do it baby, c'mon. You're gonna make me feel sooooo good, I already know it."

He tenderly pushes you forwards, pressing his cockhead to your mouth. It's flushed and wet, and you can feel it promptly pulse on your lips. You open wide, and with a sigh, Gojo rolls his hips forwards, encouraging you to take more of his cock down your throat.

"Shit," Gojo's voice breaks a little as he tries to maintain his composure, "That's it, you're doing so well. Can't believe I've got a girl as pretty as you, I'm lucky. You can take all of it, can't you?"

Of course, for him, you can do it. With how thick and fucking huge he is, it's near impossible, but the praises and downright sinful moans you draw out of his mouth make it worth it. Gojo doesn't seem to pay any mind to your struggle. Truthfully, the tears streaming down your cheeks and the sound of you gagging on his dick just turn him on even more.

God, he has to fuck you, he just has to.

On the first night he had with you, you weren't sure if he was even going to fit, but Gojo always seems to make it work. He's gentle with you, holding your thighs with a tender grip while he fucks into you slowly. It's a stark contrast to how strong you know he is, to how much he could overpower you and fuck you as hard as he pleased, if he really wanted to. It makes you understand just how precious you really are to him.

Gojo meets your eyes and asks, "You alright?" When you hastily nod, he continues, "Tell me if you need a break, kay? You feel really damn good, doin' so well for me babydoll…"

His pace quickens a little, and he folds your knees to your chest to bury himself in deeper. It's too much to take, but it feels so fucking good, hitting your sweet spot every time he thrusts in. All you can do is whine for him to give you more.

"Hahh, baby," Gojo reaches into his hair, brushing loose strands away from his face, before his eyes catch on something. He's grinning then, unable to hold back a sly chuckle. You're a bit confused, but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to your stomach. He shoves himself all the way in. You can feel the shape of his cock there, feel how deep he is inside with your palm.

Gojo snickers. "You can feel that, yeah?"

"Y-Yeah, Satoru please," You beg, and the neediness in your voice sounds like music to his ears. You're so desperate for him, even when you're overwhelmed. Even when you can hardly take what he's already giving you, you're asking him for more. You're so perfect.

So, when he starts moving again, he's fucking you harder, more feverishly. It's difficult for him to hold back now. He holds your waist with a white-knuckled grip and presses his forehead to yours.

You whine, "'Toru, kiss me," And Gojo quickly obliges, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It's sloppy and clumsy, his tongue pressed far into your mouth, his lips impossibly soft and plush on yours.

"Gonna cum, really close," You babble against his lips, and Gojo pulls back to cup your cheek. He caresses your skin with his thumb, rubbing in rhythmic circles. He admires how small your face is, how perfectly it fits into his hand, and your fucked-out expression, pupils blown and eyelashes fluttering.

"You're gorgeous," He coos, "Want you to cum for me, cum on my cock, angel."

His sweet tone and the way he fucks into you is enough to make your pleasure boil over. Gojo feels you pulse around his dick, and he fucks you messily through your high, his own peak growing closer. And when you wrap your legs around his back and plead for him to fill you up, he's quickly finding himself letting go.

His thrusts become unsteady, and with a groan, he reaches his peak. "Love you so much baby, I love you, love you," He cries as he cums, cock twitching inside you, pressing himself in deeper to plug you with all of it.

"Pretty baby, did so good… I really love you." His voice is a little hoarse and tired-sounding. Gojo collapses on top of you with a dramatic sigh.

"Ah, 'Toru…" You wheeze, his weight pinning you down, "Too heavy…"

Gojo laughs. Yeah, he knows. He admits he flopped on you on purpose, just to see your reaction.

He pulls himself off of you, slots himself next to your body and holds you close. When the two of you fall asleep together, the last thing he's thinking of is how fortunate he is to have you, and how in every aspect, he really does adore you.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut

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