#I had no idea using 'he' so much would be such a pain that I would need to rewrite bits to avoid confusion on who was doing what
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YOU WRITE CRYING MEN SO WELL ITS CRAZY ☹️🙏🙏 CAN WE PLS PLS PLS GET SMUT FOR CRYBABY!YANDERE OMG
Of course :) Pt.1. Pt.2.
Tags: oral (reader receiving), pillow humping, mommy kink (a bit obvious lol), poor communication
Yandere crybaby, who, despite all of his perverted fantasies, would be shy to take things further with you. You'd have to coax it out of him with gentle reassurance. Petting the top of his head, kissing his pouty lips, nibbling on his neck. Slowly drawing lewd whimpers and whines from him. Slowly making him rock hard for you.
But then, at the last frustrating second, where you start to take off his shirt, he'd stop you. Embarrassment with a mix of insecurity in his eyes. Choked up tears and weak excuses muttered from his lips. Making your heart flutter at the sight of beet-redded face. Your fingers wiped his cheek, his lips planting kisses against your palm in return. Taking a few seconds to calm down his breathing, he bore his eyes into yours.
"We don't have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, honey."
Your kind words eased him. But he knew you were bound to get tired of him being a pathetic crying mess. Truth was, he was scared— afraid that you'll hate him if you saw what was underneath his clothes. Afraid that if he didn't satisfy you, you would surely get rid of him. Leave him all alone to rot. Be with someone who was far better than him.
He couldn't let that happen.
"No, hic... You need relief. I-I can do this! I don't want you to be unsatisfied... Hic! I don't want you to go to anyone else for this. I want you to only look at me. Love me. Only me."
He got down between your legs. Rubbing your knees as he gulped, swallowing the saliva that wanted to spill. He felt sweaty. His heart drummed against his ears as tears fell from his eyes.
"Are you sure?" You confirmed it with him one last time, unable to say no to his cute, innocent face. He sniffled as he nodded enthusiastically. He wanted to do this. Not only because he could finally taste you, but also to make himself useful. He wanted to be good for you. He craved your approval; he needed it to survive.
He felt nervous. He had no idea what to do when you hesitantly pulled down your underwear. Just staring at your private...
His pants already creamed just by the sight of your bare pussy. He bit his lip hard, hiding a whimper from the shock of pleasure traveling up his body. Blinking and blinking, the gears in his head turning.
Your brows furrowed in concern. "I don't think we should, um..."
You lost your train of thought when his shaky breaths fanned your mound. An unsure tongue licking the length of your sensitive front. His eyes closed in ecstasy. Already overwhelmed enough by all his other senses. Your familiar smell, your divine taste, your dripping flesh— all driving him crazier. The noise you made caused his stomach to churn.
He pulled away, rubbing his cheek to the soft plush of your thigh instead. "Mmgh, f-feels too good. I..." His hand covered a mewl. "I love you so much..."
"I love you too, baby. But it's not a big deal if you—"
You were cut off again, this time by a surge of good shock shooting through you. He delved in, started to eat you out like a starved man. Licking, sucking, nibbling. His hands grabbing your hips so he could push his tongue further into your hole. Sinful squelching noises filled the room. His nose pressing against your clit with each thrust of his tongue. He wasn't holding back any longer, hiding his face between your thighs.
He slowly began to move his hips. His poor overstimulated cock rubbing against the couch. Aroused again with a fever. His whole body burned. His eyes rolled to the back of his head while he kept going. Movements only getting rougher and faster while you placed your hand on top of his head. Holding his head and bucking into his mouth, chasing release.
You had no idea he could be like this. His docile attitude replaced with something feral. He was moaning like he was in pain. Feeding on your juices to quench his thirst. His hips bumped against the furniture as if he wasn't capable of controlling it. Tears ruining his pretty face even more.
It was only a matter of time before you finished. Your back arching and your toes curling with a loud groan. "Ahhh... Fuck, fuck! Where did all that come from?"
"I-I just want you to be happy... Did I make you happy? Was I good? Are you gonna stay with me? You won't abandon me... right?!"
You sighed, a small smile forming on your face. He clearly had some things to work out. Always needing constant comfort; begging for you to own him, capture him, claim him as yours. He wished he could say the words without tearing up. Ask you to tie him down to your bed and just play with his hair.
He got comfortable with your body. Learning to use his slender fingers and even started to make eye contact when he kitten-licked your sensitive nub. Sobbing happy tears when you slowly stroked his hair. He felt enveloped by your love. Surrounded by you.
The liquid streamed down to his chin. Cries of joy vibrating against your heat while he worked harder to drive you to the edge. Half-lidded eyes staring up at yours as his fingers slid in and out of you rhythmically.
"Such a good boy, aren't you, hon? Yes. Yes, you are. You're my good boy. Ah, fuck, I'm gonna—"
Sometimes, the best way to help him calm down was to let him cuddle up to your chest. Sitting on your lap, head under your shirt— engulfed by your sweet sweet smell— lips moving around your breasts. Licking hot stripes around your areola, sucking on your nipple like a pacifier.
He'd start to get more greedy for your approval. Asking if he did a good job for a basic task, like folding his clothes and putting them away. Or if he was a good boy for not crying when you went to the bathroom. He was adorable— looking at you like a lost child, wanting for you to take care of him.
He couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment. Pleading and pleading for you to stay when you wanted to hang out with your friends. You pecked his lips, "Be good, baby. I'll be back in 2 hours. Promise."
He whimpered when you pulled away from him. Yet obeying your words as he should. Plopping down to your shared bed to sniff your scent from the sheets. 2 hours, he could do that.
He started weep pathetically. The droplets soaking your blanket. He cried over far more stupid things than this. A crybaby. That was really all he was. He took your pillow, hugging it tightly as if it would disappear at any moment. His eyes closed shut. Whispering, "Haah... I wish you were hugging me... I wish you were here..."
He tried to be a good boy. Tried to keep himself in check. Tried oh-so hard to stop thinking about it. But eventually, the problem in his pants started to hurt. One of his trembling legs dropped over your pillow, while he found the rewarding angle that gave him the most friction. His hand sneaked into his pocket to grab a pair of hidden underwear, there in case of... emergencies.
You came back to your room to retrieve a forgotten item. Just at the right time— catching him grinding against your pillow mindlessly. Your underwear pressed tightly against his nose as he inhaled and exhaled a wail. Moaning louder and more high-pitched than you've ever heard.
"Nghh... m-mommy... Why...? Why did you have to— hic— leave your poor babyboy....?"
You grinned. The newfound information was a treasure. You always wondered if he was into that title. Too timid to talk to you about things like that. He was just adorable. You could hear how close he was when his voice shook. When he chanted your name as if it would ease the pain. Brows crumpled, and sweat rolled down the skin of his forehead.
"Mommy..." His tongue darted out to lick the heavenly taste off the fabric of your panties. His hips rutted to the pillow until a sad, unsatisfying orgasm hit him. He cried miserably. Nose stuffed while he breathed out whimpers. Drool mixed with other liquids pooled down to splatter the pillow. An unusual angry huff coming from his lips. "Why aren't you here?!? Whywhywhywhy!"
Only if he opened his eyes.
#yandere#desperate yandere#yandere oc#obsessive love#yanblr#pathetic yandere#dom reader#male yandere#pathetic men#sub yandere#yandere x reader#yandere boy#male yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x darling#crybaby yandere#anon ask
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Reflection (Eddie X Y/N)
A/N: This idea came to mind after thinking about a conversation I had last night with a friend. (Yeah let's not talk about it.)
Enjoy <3
Warnings: Rockstar Eddie & Fem Y/N, daddy kink (cause im me), phone sex, LOTS of dirty talk, established relationship, fluff
Word Count: 1242
“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”, you giggle as he grins at the sound.
“I always forget how much I miss your laugh till I haven’t heard it in almost three days.”, the rockstar sighs into the phone receiver. “I wish I could see your face.”
“I know, baby. Did they say when you guys would be headed home?”
“Naw. All I know is this week we’re doing another photo op and some event thing I know absolutely nothing about. I don’t fucking get why we ALL have to be there.”
“I mean its Corroded Coffin attending not just, you know, Jeff and some friends.” Eddie exhales again as his thumb gently caress the picture of you two he keeps in his wallet. “What are you thinking about, honey?”
“I’m thinkin’…about how much I miss you…and how nice it would be to fall asleep with you in my arms. I’m thinkin’…about when I took on our date to the Starcourt mall and how fucking beautiful you looked in that black dress with your red converse.”
“You loved ‘em. Look I don’t own nice shoes! Not at that time anyway.”, you laugh, getting more comfortable on your bed that seemed way too big when the metalhead wasn’t there. “We went to the photobooth outside the movie theater and took those goofy pictures.”
Eddie beamed as he took in each little square of the photos with you two smiling like dorks. The last few frames were his favorite especially the last one where your hands were cupping his cheeks as his forehead leaned against yours. After the flash went off, he kissed you, knowing in that moment that you were the girl he was going to marry one day.��
Tilting his head back against the headboard of the hotel bed, his eyes met his own reflection as he smirked at the mirrors above him.
“You know being on the road has given me some interesting ideas for our bedroom.”
“Oh yeah? Deviant ideas or decorating ideas?”
“Both.”, he chuckles. “My hotel room here on the strip has mirrors above the bed.”
“Oh my god, Eddie.”
“Oh, come on, sweetheart. I can see you from every angle especially when you’re riding me.”
“Eddie…”, you slightly pant his name and his smile grows as he watches himself reach into his sweatpants and pull out his half hard cock. “I…don’t know how to…we’ve never…”
“I like when you get all shy and innocent.”, he teases making your face warm. Listening to him spit on the other end has your pussy clenching and you allow your own hand to roam as it slides under the waistband of your panties. “Just talk to me, baby. That’s all you have to do until I can come home and Daddy can take care of his pretty girl properly.”
When you giggle, he pictures you doing it; your face ducking down trying to hide from his eyeline.
“Come on, princess. Tell me what you’re wearing.”
“I always wear one of your shirts when you aren’t here. It smells like you, Daddy.”
“Aw, baby. I always have my pictures of us. I bring them everywhere with me so I can see your face. Do you, uh, are you wearing any panties or a bra?”
“No bra…just my panties. The little red ones you like.”
“With the rose on the band?” A mixture of a pant and a laugh escape his lips when you confirm. “Fuck, I love pulling those down with my teeth.”
Eddie hears you giggle but it sounds muffled, telling him you’re biting your bottom lip which drives him crazy at the sight. Even just imagining it has his cock stiffening more in his grasp and he utilizes the little beads of precum to lubricate himself more.
“W-What are you wearing, Daddy?”
“My, uh—fuck—my black sweatpants and some boxers. I pushed them down enough so I can…you know.”
“No, baby, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”, you tease.
“There’s my girl. My little sarcastic pain in my ass.”, he laughs as you do the same.
“You love me.”
“Always. Fuck…I’m pumping my dick with my fist. Are you touching yourself, pretty girl?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m—mmph—rubbing my clit…wishing it was your tongue.”
“Shit—good girl. C-Can you imagine if we had these mirrors, baby? Y-You could watch me suck and fuck you with my tongue while my fingers spread you open.”
“Fuck, Daddy.”
“God, Y/N, you’re making me so hard. Put a couple of your fingers inside that tight little pussy for Daddy, baby.”, Eddie mewls as he thrusts his hips subtly against his fist.
He hears your whimpers on the other end and his eyes roll back.
“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.”
“Feels…feels good, Daddy. I’m so wet. I-I’m picturing watching you on top of me…if we h-had those mirrors—fuck—seeing my legs wrapped around you as you fuck me into the mattress.”
“Just like that, Y/N. Mmph—keep going.”
“Oh my God… seeing your ass as you pound into me…O-Or when you put my leg over your shoulder…I can watch your big cock disappear inside of me…Daaaddy.”
You could hear the light smacking sound of his fist as he picked up his pace and his head flew back as his eyes squeezed shut listening to you struggle to catch your breath.
“Beg me to cum, baby. Beg Daddy to cum.”
“P-Please, Daddy. I need you to cum for me.”
“W-Where do you want it, sweetheart.”
“Ah…in…inside my pussy, Daddy, please.”
“Oh, f-fuck.”
Eddie grunted as he curled into his body, his release erupting and hitting his hand as he pictured himself filling you up. At the sound, your heavy pants filled his ear, listening to you whine as the coil snapped.
“Oh my God.”
“Y-You ok, beautiful?”
“Yeah…did, um, did I do good?”
“You did better than good, Y/N. Fuck, that was amazing. Who knew you had such a dirty mouth.”
You laughed at his joke as you listened to his voice strain knowing he was reaching for a towel to clean himself with.
“You know what another benefit of those mirrors would be?”
“What, baby?”
“Afterward, when I hold you, I can finally get a good look of your entire face especially when your head is on my chest.”
“Eddie.”, you coo his name and again, he chuckles as he places the picture of you two back in his wallet pausing at the little blue box he had placed near it after coming back to the hotel that afternoon.
“I, um, I think I’m coming home a bit early.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything.”
Nerves radiate through him as he balances the box on his fingers before flipping it open to display the modest little diamond engagement ring inside.
“Naw, sweetheart, I won’t get in trouble and even if I do fuck them. You’re more important to me than anything else. Plus, I, uh, got you something I really want to give you.”
“Eddie, you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know I didn’t HAVE to. I wanted to. I’ve actually been looking for this particular thing for a while.”
“Edward Munson, if it’s mirrors, I swear to God…”
Eddie cackles as he closed the box and set it back next to his wallet.
“Pfft, after what I just heard, I’ll bet you ten bulks you’ll already have them installed before I get home.”
#############
Eddie Masterlist
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#joseph quinn#joseph quinn smut#joseph quinn fluff#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#rockstar eddie munson#eddie fanfic#fan fiction#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson fanfic#daddy eddie#dom eddie munson#eddie munson blurb
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Hiii, I love all ur fics sm! Ur literally so talented omgg
I wanted to request a fic where Oikawa and short/academically inclined reader are friends with benefits. I think it would be fun to see them get jealous and tiptoe around their feelings for each other since they don’t wanna ruin what they have. Can it also be nsfw and could u add some angst pls? Thank youu!
f*cking jealous!oikawa in secret
hi! thank you so much!! hope this interpretation is alright!
warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI
details. fem!reader / short!reader / jealous!oikawa / popular x loser trope / jock x nerd trope / tutor!reader / subby-switch!oikawa / switch!reader / oikawa with a nerd fetish / needy!oikawa towards the end / kind of hate fucking? / oikawa being mean / riding / implied oral / fluff, angst, and smut / reader with glasses / 1.8k words
links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines
"You're sooo lucky to tutor him, (Y/n),"
Your hopeless friend sighed, scrolling through Oikawa's Instagram for the upteenth time.
"I'd give anything to spend that much time alone with him."
It was a little creepy, but you loved her. Other girls fawning over your secret fuck-buddy was something you had to -begrudgingly- get used to. It pained you more when it was somebody so close, but nothing was worth coming clean about it.
The last thing you needed during senior year was a target on your back.
"Oh, he's such a prick!" You wave her off and grab your drink from the café counter with a smaller, pleasant, 'Thank you.'
The table was more of a C-curved booth that your group had to shimmy into. The shape made it hard to get in and out of, rather serving as an ultra-cozy prison to focus on your studies, your caffeine, and your snacks.
As a way of not letting you off the hook so easily- your friends cracked open their notes, laptops, textbooks, while entertaining the 'absurd' idea that any of you could actually date Johsai's least eligible bachelor.
A bunch of star-students with decorated academic achievements was the only impressive thing about the patrons at your favorite, quiet, coffee house. With- maybe-- the exception of money in eyeglass prescriptions, or luxurious stationery that decorated the table.
Your voice stood as the most displeased, the most troubled, of the discussion. You flipped through the chapters, halfway forgetting what page you needed to be on, because you got caught up in his shortcomings.
"He doesn't listen- he takes my hours away from people who might actually need it- he's, obviously, got the biggest ego I've ever seen--, Oh- hold up."
It was a struggle to flip to your page and rummage around your pocket for your buzzing phone.
"Well, I'm glad somebody's got some common sense-," Was the only guy in your group, disgruntled at all the Oikawa-talk.
Oikawa's name flashed across your screen. Your body seized and you hugged it to your chest.
"Woah!"
"You good?"
"I'm just--gonna take this outside," You cleared your throat and sank all the way to the floor, crawling over shoes and bags from under the table to get far away from your friends.
It was on the second-to-last ring by the time you hurried outside. You hated him for many things, but the wind picked up, spraying a chilly mist all over your clothes, and you couldn't help but associate him with the feeling. Your hoodie was still inside, forgotten in your haste.
"What? I'm busy right now." You spat, shivering already.
"Don't fog your glasses up, princess."
His easy, light tone particularly bothered you. You groaned.
"Get to the point, pretty boy, I'm busy--,"
"I know. I just called to say you should stop talking about me. Reads as a bit... obsessive, don't you think?"
The breath you took to poke a hole in his 'obsessive' argument gave way to nothing- except a silent realization.
"You're- where are you?"
You squinted at the dark window, but it was one-way.
Oikawa watched you turn to the parking lot, smirking, from inside the cafe.
He sighed, a real airy, fake one; the one he knew you loved to hear from him in bed.
His voice was lower, closer to the receiver. "I thought you said you were busy?"
The audacity to call you obsessive, mixing with the adrenaline his sudden proximity shot into your system. You pressed 'end call.'
When you re-entered the cafe, you spotted him immediately. He was walking back to his booth, one away from yours, from the restrooms. Though you both saw each other, there was hardly an indication that you knew one another at all, thanks to so much practice.
It was, still, hard to watch him slide into a seat right next to some other girl.
So, he heard you talking shit about him while on a date, then left her to go call you? You rejoined your booth, and spared a mean glance over at him, like the absolute garbage he was. He returned it with lesser intensity.
-
You'd think, with his cock in your hand, he wouldn't bring up the events of that morning. It put him in a less-than ideal position.
"Y'knoww,"
He hadn't said anything yet, but your eyes were rolling. Used to the attitude, and equipped with a firm point to make, he continued:
"You should ditch- ahh, that little loser in your little friend group."
A little roll of your hips had him wincing- spreading the slickness all across his dick, from all the work he had put in, already.
You cocked your head at him, "Oh, yeah?"
Oikawa's eyes rolled back into his skull, a groan at how hot you looked, grinding on him. You were his perfect, nerdy little secret. He specifically wanted you to keep your glasses on today. It was a thing. You didn't understand it in its entirety, but it likely had a connection to the reason why he opted for a lowkey arrangement.
"And you should ditch that shallow whore--,"
"Oh my god!" He gasped, surprised to hear such a thing uttered from your mouth, "Fuuuck you're so jealous-!"
"Me?"
It was completely unfair and utter bullshit that he acted like his jealousy was nonexistent. To him, only you could get out of your pay grade. He pretended to forget that the only reason you were fucking multiple times a week was because he 'needed' you so bad. You felt a little exploited.
"That's so hot-aughhh!"
His big, strong hands were forcing your cunt against his slippery, thick cock, since you wouldn't move quite right.
"M-mmh-! Tha-t's-," You struggled, voice breaking, hands against his muscular chest, "Not- mh, fair."
Your textbooks, his assignment due in 40 minutes, were neglected on the floor across his bedroom. Your tutoring was basically roleplay. It turned him on as soon as you got to talking about the relevant class material, telling him that the work he had already done was wrong.
It turned you on too, to an extent. You liked that you got him stiff without trying, without touching. You loved when he pretended like he wasn't, but bounced his leg right next to yours, cleared his throat before every response, got caught staring like some depraved creature.
You were exactly his type. He was the hottest guy you'd ever met. Something had to give.
"I- ah, don't wanna--," He fucked you hard, like you had a ring on your finger, "See you talk to that loser again."
He couldn't stand the threat of being second place. A guy with such a precious ego needed to feel like you wouldn't leave him. While your social structure may have harbored the suggestion that this would be the case, it wasn't an accurate representation of your feelings.
The whimper lacing his voice grew as you placed a firm hand around his throat.
"Don't- date- other girls." You threatened through gritted teeth and bitten-back moan.
It was just your luck that the most ridiculous peacock of a man would have such a great dick, give you such great head, that you couldn't live and let this fucked-up situationship die. The timer of the semester ticked away, standing as an informal end to it, so neither of you had the gall to cut things off before you needed to.
He whined under your touch, bottoming out hard, keeping himself as deep as he could get.
The lonely bastard draped his arms around you and pulled you close.
"Mmh- you know I gotta- h-ah, keep up appearances for us, princess," His quiet mutter, spilled across your shoulder, forced a shiver down your spine.
His sheets smelled just like him.
You loosened your grip and decided to play with his soft, lush locks, taking in his scent, his touch- that feeling. Like you were his, but not in some twisted, shameful way.
You wanted one of his shirts but it wasn't that simple.
For the moment, you chased the dream, while he was still gentle and peppering you in kisses.
Maybe in some perfect world, he would let go of his status, be a little less weird about your intelligence, and you could have a boyfriend instead of a glorified dildo.
He sounded close, so you fucked him back, hand back on his throat; you wondered how many girls would be disappointed to know that Oikawa Tohru didn't last very long in bed.
"You wanna cum, pretty boy?"
A wince at your rough, loaded kiss. His grip was iron, his strength speaking enough for how mute you got him.
It was so quiet, so pitiful: "Pl-ease,"
God, he looked so cute all fucked-out. He only looked at you like that. Like he never wanted you to leave, like he couldn't breathe without you around him, like you weren't just friends with benefits.
Too bad you were just some freaky nerd-fetish.
He pulled out and you sat, buzzed, on his drained cock, more than satisfied with the sight of cum all over his stomach.
When you pushed up your fallen glasses, his cock twitched accordingly and reminded you of the only reason you existed to him at all.
Kissing, cleaning up, cuddling, all of the winding down was still commonplace between you. He wanted attention, you wanted time to chill before you had to go home. He even made it difficult to get dressed and out the door.
Today, he kept his arms around your waist when you attempted to get up, after 20 minutes of cuddling.
"Pleaaase stay," He whined, unable to hold you as firm as he wanted for fear he would hurt you.
You smiled.
"I need to study more tonight."
"Study here!" He pouted.
Right. Then this would happen all over again- because as soon as he would see a pencil between your teeth, he'd try to replace it with his cock.
"Really study," You pried his fingers off and got dressed.
He watched for a time, but needed to assert himself more in order to feel like he wasn't useless, or forgettable. He joined to get dressed, too, and kept a close eye on your seemingly unbothered expression.
"I'm sorry for cursing at you."
It was so unimportant that you had no idea what he was talking about.
"It's okay," Rolled off your tongue, fast.
Oikawa got twitchy. His sly attempts at dragging out your departure slipped through his fingers like sand.
"Let me help you with that," His unprompted kiss to your forehead, along with his gentle gathering of your things, left you a bit dazed.
You fixed your hair- hesitant to look at him.
"Thank you."
He insisted, like usual, to walk you home. You sighed and posed the same argument, the way you had for the past month. People would notice if you were together in any capacity. Rumors would start.
When he was done packing your books up, he was touchier, and hung over you like a cat rubbing itself all over your ankles as you walked to the door.
You rationalized that it had to be your glasses. It gave him some sort of kick. He barely let you out of his bedroom, let alone his house.
You forgot to ask for a shirt, but... maybe next time?
☆VIP☆
@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco
my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.
#x reader#takesone#haikyu fluff#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#hq x reader#hq oikawa#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa fluff#oikawa x you#oikawa x y/n#oikawa toru x reader#oikawa toru fluff#oikawa x reader fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu iwaizumi#haikyuu smut#haikyuu oikawa x reader smut#oikawa angst#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa tooru x y/n#oikawa tooru angst#aoba johsai#oikawa tooru x you#tooru oikawa
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Dom lando convincing Oscar to try different types of sex toys and lando loving it as much as Oscar and maybe I could see Oscar being a size queen just loving being filled either by lando or dildos like big bigggg ones
The first time Lando suggested it, he'd been joking.
But the look on Oscar's face, and the fact that he came prematurely as soon as the words were out of Lando's mouth, told Lando everything he needed to know about what Oscar thought of the idea.
Warnings: smut, fingering, fisting, using big-ass dildos, blowjob, crying, Lando being a bit mean
Lando was big.
Not in like, a ‘I have a big dick and an ego to match’ way, but he was fucking big.
And he was actually quite shy about it, because sometimes it could make sex quite difficult if his partners weren't prepped thoroughly.
Sometimes he bottomed just to avoid the conversation and hassle. Which he did enjoy, but he preferred to be the top.
And a rather dominant top at that.
So when Oscar mentioned to him offhandedly that he could take anything, he had to see for himself.
They ended up in bed together several times before the afore mentioned incident.
Oscar was a noisy bottom, and Lando had been getting a bit too into the prepping part and had decided to go up to four fingers and make Oscar come like that.
And he jokingly said something along the lines of “What if I put all my fingers in? I bet I could get my whole fist inside you.”
And, well. Oscar came without uttering a single word about it. But he didn't need to.
Lando got his dick in him as soon as he could and that was the end of the conversation.
Until the next day when he brought it up again, in the conference room of all places.
Oscar choked on his coffee and stared daggers at Lando. Thank god they were the only ones in there.
Long story short, that very night was the first time Lando got a whole fist in Oscar, and they both came completely untouched.
But Lando was nothing if not greedy. He wanted more.
He wanted to see how much Oscar could really take.
And Oscar was insatiable in nature so he readily agreed to Lando's antics.
Every few weeks he would come home and find Lando sitting there with an unopened amazon box.
He never opened them on his own. He would always wait for Oscar to come home and open it, because he wanted to see the hungry look in his eyes when he saw each toy for the first time.
Dildo number four made his eyes widen and his mouth water.
It was a good 3 inches wide, and made Lando's cock look like a tooth pick, no offense.
That night they did their usual ritual.
Oscar had been wearing a big plug for a few hours to help with the prep.
Lando grabbed a bottle of lube (they had about 30 bottles, because they were on sale and they used a lot of lube, sue them) and squirted a generous amount on one of the previously bought dildos.
Oscar sank down on it like a pro, whining at the stretch as Lando held his hips steady so he wouldn't topple over.
He didn't take long to start riding it, sweat already dampening his hairline as his toned thighs bounced his weight up and down.
Lando was in awe, as usual.
He watched as Oscar took it further and further down, moaning like a slut the whole time. It made his dick throb.
Pretty soon it wasn't enough, and Oscar sank all the way down to the base and huffed.
“Okay, I'm ready.” He panted.
Lando nodded, helping him off and putting him on his hands and knees.
“Spread your legs as far as you can” he muttered excitedly, using as much lube as he could.
He needed Oscarwet.
He took a second to admire Oscar, bent over and back arched, hole already gaping slightly.
“Are you gonna put it in or do I have to do it myself?”
Lando chuckled, placing the tip against Oscar’s rim.
“As usual, tell me if anything feels wrong or painful”
Oscar sighed. “Yes Lando, now put it in me”
“What's the magic word?”
“I will fucking leave”
“Okay, okay”
He put a bit of pressure on the dildo, making Oscar's rim stretch around it.
When the head finally popped in, Oscar whimpered pathetically into the sheets.
“Oh fuck, more”
Lando laughed, grabbing the lube to squirt some more on the dildo before pushing it in a bit more.
The man under him let out a bone rattling groan and that encouraged him to push another couple of inches in.
He pumped it in and out shallowly for a minute, then added a couple more inches.
Oscar was drooling onto the sheets as he felt the fullness inside him.
“Lando” he panted. “Lando, please. More”
Lando obliged, and before long, he had almost pushed the whole thing in. Given the size of the damn thing, there was no way his prostate wasn't being constantly stimulated.
“Oscar… fuck. You're doing so good for me, just a little more...”
He pumped it in and out some more, making Oscar keen and writhe beneath him.
“Lando! Lando fuck- I'm gonna come!” he whined.
Lando grinned, he thrusted it faster and harder.
“Go on then baby, come for me”
Oscar's body jolted, shockwaves traveling up his spine as he shot ropes of cum across the sheets under him.
Lando slowly stilled his movements, letting Oscar ride out his intense orgasm.
Now, up until this point, you could think that Lando wasn't particularly dominant. Just sort of, there, guiding Oscar more than anything.
You would be wrong.
The next step was what Lando was truly looking forward to.
He put the already dirty sheet on the floor, next to the bed.
“Osc?”
Oscar gave him an exhausted thumbs up from where he was laying on the bed, the dildo still half way inside him.
“You're not done yet, baby, come over here”
He gently pulled the dildo out of his lover, and placed it upright on the floor.
“You think you can ride it for me?”
Oscar nodded, crawling over to him on the bed, giving him a quick kiss before standing up and crouching over it. He put his hands on Lando's thighs to stabilise himself.
He sank down on it slowly, head thrown back and his long nails digging into Lando's flesh painfully.
But Lando didn't care, he was entranced by the way Oscar was stretched around something bigger than his fucking arm.
He managed to sink down about three quarters of the way before he gasped.
“Jesus, the feeling is much different with this angle”
One of Lando’s hands went to cup Oscar's jaw, pressing into his cheeks harshly.
“I want to see you take it. All of it” he snapped.
Oscar whimpered when Lando pushed his thumb into his mouth to press on his tongue.
Oscar obeyed, sinking further down, inch by inch until his ass met his heels.
“Good boy”
A bead of precum leaked from Oscar's tip at the praise, and he lifted his hips slightly only to drop them back down, moaning around Lando's thumb as he did so.
It wasn't long before he got into a rhythm with his hips, and Lando grabbed him by the hair to bring him closer to his own leaking cock.
“Give it a kiss” he said, and Oscar looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Go on, you haven't touched it all night. Least you can do is kiss it”
There it was. Lando's slightly sadistic side.
Oscar knew better than to argue.
He kissed the tip, then made his way to the base, placing soft kisses along the skin.
Lando sighed at finally being touched. “Good, now open your mouth for me”
Oscar stuck his tongue out for good measure, and wasn't surprised in the least when Lando tapped his cock on it a few times before sinking into the wet heat of his mouth.
Because Oscar was a size queen, and it didn't just apply to his ass.
His gag reflex was non-existent, and he adored the feeling of his mouth being stretched around Lando's thick girth.
“You look so fucking good Osc. You were made to be fucking filled up, weren't you? Stuffed full of cock all day…”
Being filled from both ends is what really did it for Oscar, so that plus Lando's filthy commentary drove him wild, and it didn't take long before he was whining around it as he came all over himself, eyes rolling into the back of his skull.
Lando had been on edge for the better part of an hour, so the sight of that alone was enough to send him over himself, rocking his cock in and out of Oscar's mouth as the absolute whore swallowed it all.
Lando pulled out and let go of his tight hold on Oscar's hair.
“Now, you're going to do one last thing for me Osc. You're gonna come again...”
The younger man looked up at him with wide eyes, incredulous at the order.
"I don't know that I can come again Lando. That took everything out of me“
“You can, and you will…”
He sat back on the bed, leaning on his arm as he took in the sight of his teammate.
Flushed from his chest up to his cheeks, cock soft where it was hanging between his thighs.
“I want you to bounce on that dildo, and get yourself off while I watch”
Lando had a goal in mind. He wanted to see Oscar come dry.
He'd only done so once before, and it was a beautiful sight.
Oscar cried, tears streaming down his face while he could do nothing but ride the waves of his orgasm in pure bliss.
He wanted to see that again.
And the sheet below Oscar was absolutely soaked, so he had a feeling it would only take one more.
Oscar looked at him defiantly and raised his hips.
When he dropped back down, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, and his cock twitched.
Lando motioned towards it.
“Go on, give it a tug. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to get off”
Oscar wrapped a hand around himself, letting out a breath at the contact.
He hadn't been touched either tonight and he found himself quickly hardening again at the new stimulation.
His thighs burned as he bounced, hand almost a blur where he was desperately fisting his cock.
He had tears in his eyes and was moaning freely while looking at Lando with the most torn expression on his face.
It felt good, too good. He was so overstimulated it bordered on pain, but he kept going.
“Lando” he whined “help me, please. Talk to me”
Lando groaned at the almost broken sounds coming out of the younger man.
“You want me to talk to you, baby? Want me to tell you what a good boy you're being?”
Oscar nodded desperately.
“Well, too bad. It's been what, five minutes? And you still haven't come yet. You're such a whore you can't even get yourself off on your own anymore. Fucking pathetic. Worthless sluts like you don’t deserve to be touched, do they? No, so be a good boy for once and fucking. Come.”
Oscar screeched as he felt his entire body burn with pleasure. His hips stuttered and his hand pumped his cock a couple more times.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-”
His poor cock throbbed, but only a drop or two of cum dribbled out, dripping down his angry red tip as he cried out.
Lando got what he wanted. Oscar had tears staining his cheeks as he whimpered pathetically, slumping forwards and panting against the side of the bed.
Lando helped him off the dildo, laying him down on his back, on the bed with his legs spread.
Lando looked at where Oscar’s twitching hole was gaping, trying to clench around nothing.
He was hard again, so he took himself in hand, and with a sight like that in front of him, it didn’t take long for him to come all over Oscar's spread thighs.
When he looked up he saw that Oscar had his arms crossed behind his head and was grinning at him.
“Did you enjoy that, Lando?”
Lando nodded, breathing heavily after his orgasm.
“Yeah, was mint”
Oscar scoffed and rolled over to get off the bed and make his way to the bathroom.
“Mint” he ranted “If that's what you want to call it, then sure, it was mint”
Lando blushed, following him into the shower.
“you know what I meant” he wrapped his arms around Oscar. “I loved it. Thank you”
He pressed a kiss to Oscar's nose and the taller man rolled his eyes.
“Sometimes I don't know why I indulge your fantasies”
Lando smirked, pressing himself closer to Oscar's body.
“Because you love me, Osc”
Oscar looked down at him with pursed lips.
“Hmm. We'll see…”
#my thots#lando thots#oscar thots#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri#f1#formula 1#request#landoscar
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Okay okay okay,
Viktor x Reader emotional smut/hurt comfort
Viktor spends all night in his lab and he forgets you guys planned a dinner because you had a fight because he missed dinner for working in his lab just a week prior. So you’re all dressed up waiting for him to walk through the door to go to dinner and he just… never shows. You wait as long as you can until you give up and go to bed, leaving your shoes and outfit you were wearing crumpled on the floor. He comes home and he sees the outfit and he’s like ah… shit.
Then it’s angry fight over not feeling like he cares enough, feeling second to his work, not feeling enough for him etc all the insecurities coming out.
And then smut eventually when he comforts reader
Pls 🧎🏽♀️
Hi Anon! I have to say, this scene gave me a lot more trouble than I thought it would, but I hope the fight is believable.
Once more, we have been blessed with my smut fairy's benediction (who has already helped me flesh out the scenes in What was that? that are yet to come) - @rennethen has written a beautiful skeleton for a sex scene in this fic, that we edited together AND she also did a thorough research around position that we used here AND recommends for you to put on Start a Fire by Ryan Star. So everyone say thank you! I love writing with you, thank you so much! ♡ Here we go:
Lover, You Should've Come Over
viktorxfemale!reader explicit! angst/comfort/smut
word count: 3,7K
—
His eyelids felt gritty, like there was painful sand beneath them, while the clock announced another passing hour. Viktor sighed and felt that his frown would not loosen on its own, so he pressed a hand to his forehead in an attempt to iron it out. The relief was brief, fleeting, and another sigh followed.
He glanced at the notes scattered across his desk—unfinished sketches and equations scrawled hastily in chalk, bits of which flaked off the blackboard like flour. Blinking a few times, he turned his gaze to the window. Dawn was approaching. For a moment, he considered collapsing onto the tiny, worn-out couch in the corner of the lab, a relic from late nights and lost time shared with Jayce. It had been set up precisely for moments like this, when the concept of time slipped through their fingers.
But the thought of crawling into a warm bed next to you tugged at him, finally winning the battle against exhaustion.
Slowly, he rose, his joints cracking audibly in protest. The sound echoed around the empty lab, a dry reminder of how long he’d been hunched over the desk. He considered tidying up but quickly abandoned the idea, his fatigue winning over perfectionism. Instead, he stacked the notes into a precarious tower on his desk and shoved a handful of loose papers into his bag haphazardly.
He was used to this feeling— an odd drunkenness of the body that didn’t see a drop of alcohol, fuel running out after more than twenty hours without sleep. His limbs felt stiff, his muscles sluggish and uncooperative, resulting in a wobbly trot and a certain alienation from one’s own hands. Dry throat, dry eyes, sensation of faint nausea lingering somewhere below his larynx, everything easily meltable in a cup of tea and the embrace of a properly soft mattress.
In some strange way, this was his favourite part of the day. The academy was silent, the streets of Piltover almost deserted, save for a few early risers starting their work at dawn. He stopped by the bakery to pick up fresh bread and pastries for breakfast, savouring the slow, solitary stroll home. Soon enough, he would wrap himself around you, breathing in the comforting scent of your hair as he drifted into a few blissful hours of sleep.
Quietly, he slipped his key into the lock and turned it, careful not to make a sound. He hesitated before setting the keys in the bowl by the door, opting instead to hold onto them to avoid clatter.
He stepped further into the apartment, orange morning sun already breaching the curtains, as motes of dust danced around, suspended in the still air. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the lingering warmth. He slipped off his shoes, careful not to make noise, and padded towards the bedroom with a soft groan.
It was then he saw them—your clothes and shoes discarded on the floor, right in the hallway. The sight made him pause. The shoes were still upright, as if you’d stepped out of them, resigned. The dress, crumpled, was draped across the chair near the door. Slowly, his tired mind pulled the pieces from the deep well of memory.
Dinner. He’d forgotten. Zatraceně.
His face crunched itself painfully at the thought of what awaited him. Fully deserved, yet, far away from pleasant. He swallowed it down and pushed the bedroom door open with a soft creak.
“Lásko,” he murmured, his voice low and hesitant, guilt clinging to the edges of the pet name. “Are you asleep?”
A long, unhappy sigh came from the bed. “No.” Silence, for a moment. “Now that I know you’re alive—” you croaked quietly, your voice muffled by the pillow. “Where have you been?”
If it hadn’t been clear until then, the sound of your voice betrayed just how much crying you had done in the last few hours. It was raw and hoarse, thick with exhaustion, a sniffle caught at the back of your throat.
“I—” Viktor started, faltering before quickly trying to correct himself. “I forgot. I am so, so sorry.”
Nothing, just a stare, as you lifted yourself up from the pillows and crossed your arms on your chest. Eyebrows pinched together in a fake pity.
“Work. I swear, it completely slipped my mind, and I am so, so sorry,” Viktor pleaded, making a few wobbly steps toward the bed, only to stop at your scoff.
“That’s… good to know. Well, if you ever decide I am worthy of your time, you know where to find me,” you retorted and slumped back into the pillow, stubborn tears already pushing themselves past your eyelids.
“Please don’t be like that, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Few more steps, unsure, as Viktor leaned heavily on his cane. His voice exasperated, as he had absolutely no energy to fight now. He would do anything for forgiveness and a place in bed, his muscles screaming for rest.
“Viktor I frankly don’t care what you’ve meant or didn’t mean to do, it is what it is,” you said sharply, narrowing the space for discussion. “For someone who fights so fiercely to not be forgotten, you sure forget about others easily.”
“Was that necessary?” A hot feeling washed over him, not yet anger, but irritation that glued his feet to the floor and made him adjust his stance. “Do you really want to fight at 4 a.am.?”
“Yes, that is my deepest desire to have a fight with you at dawn. What do you think? Is it my fault that we are having this conversation?” You rose again, facing him from the stronghold of your shared bed, Viktor dangerously close to losing his residence rights.
“No, it’s my fault, as you’ve made it very clear. And I am sorry, and it will never happen again. I don’t know what else I can say, really.” Seeing your deadly glare, he added, “And I don’t forget you. I just forgot about dinner. I’m sorry.” The last apology weaker than the others, as he run out of options.
“I somehow fail to see the difference between forgetting me and forgetting dinner—twice— as the result of both is identical,” you huffed dangerously, kicking the duvet off yourself. Anger surging through you, mixing with disbelief at his complete lack of willingness to own his sins.
“Lásko, please. I am so infinitely tired, please let’s not do this now,” Viktor pleaded again, his voice straining, the undercurrent of upset making your skin crawl. He spread his hands apart, making another step toward the bed to find himself stood at the edge of it. And it was too close.
You swung your legs over the mattress, tears of anger burning your cheeks. “As you wish. Bed’s all yours.” Another spit and you stood up, ready to run away and press yourself into the couch to muffle your sobs, when Viktor’s hand stopped you.
“Please don’t go. Please. This is the last thing I want.” This time his voice more sincere. Sadness in his eyes. A real lingering guilt. But if you were to give in, nothing would change.
“No, Viktor. Should’ve thought about this before you decided to marry yourself to work.”
“And what do you mean by this?” he asked in a confused tone, his hand leaving your arm.
“I mean… I don’t know what I mean, I’m tired. And what I also mean, maybe you should reconsider if there is truly a space for someone else in your life. Or maybe you need someone more memorable, I really don’t know,” you mumbled, all your insecurities gnawing at you simultaneously. All the times when Viktor forgot about something you had asked for, all the times he was late or didn’t show up at all, all the times when you had to ignore young assistants giggling around him, when you would finally decide to pick him up from work.
“Please, you cannot be serious right now.” Viktor felt his ribs clenching around his heart, a very unpleasant kind of tightness settling in his chest. Or maybe just his heart swelled up in his chest, pumped with anger and disbelief. Either way, it ached. “How dare you throw such an accusation at me.”
“How dare I? Have you, I don’t know, tried to take a walk in my shoes? You can take a stroll, they are in the corridor, ready for the dinner.” This very finite, very spiteful remark made you momentarily proud of yourself, until you saw the shift in Viktor’s eyes.
“I haven’t. I didn’t think I should. Because I trust you, when you say you love me, and I was hoping you trusted me as well, despite the slip ups,” he said quietly, his gaze low. “You knew who I was before we stepped into this, I’ve told you that I am not good at this kind of maintenance.”
“Maintenance?” You were fuming. Absolutely, completely furious. Courtship and basic human decency to not leave someone hanging for hours reduced to such a soulless, technical term. “You cannot wipe your face with the excuse of being broken every time you fuck something up, Viktor.”
And that was it. It was enough. Enough to rip through Viktor’s chest with a cold blade. He took a sharp inhale, but before anything could fall out from his mouth you realised what you had just said. Stumbling over your own words, you retreated quickly, “Viktor, I’m so sorry, I—”
“No. No,” he whispered, his tone icy as he shrugged your hand off his arm. “It is you who doesn’t get the right to wipe your face with something I have bared in front of you in trust.” And you saw his eyes welling up and you felt your own heart swelling in fear. Your hand shot back where it was rejected, again, and Viktor pushed it off, again.
“Please, Viktor, I didn’t mean to say it.”
“Yes, you did. And what is worse—I haven’t ignored you on purpose. I forgot. Which is in its definition an unintentional act. Whereas, you have gone for the kill. Intentionally.” His tone measured, calculated, walls raising up as he turned his face away from you.
You stood there, struck. Looking blankly into space, regretting not taking Viktor up on that ‘let’s not fight now’ option from a few moments ago. After a few very loud, very echoey breaths your resolve finally broke and a long suppressed sob pushed itself out of you with full force.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, falling back into the mattress. “I just… miss you—” An undignified hick escaped you. “I miss you so much Viktor, I really didn’t mean to say it, I’m so sorry…” After that, an incomprehensive wave of words mixed with gasps and cries followed.
Viktor stood there for a minute, chewing at the inside of his cheek, clearly still wounded, he just didn’t know what wounded him more. The fact that his love called him broken in a spiteful retort, or the fact that she was now crying at the crack of dawn, because of him.
Tentatively, he shifted closer to you, a featherlight touch of his hands to your shoulder startling you. You felt the mattress dip next to you and your head being pulled to his chest, which made you fall apart completely.
Viktor hugged you tightly, your tears dampening his jumper, his own throat working very hard to suppress emotion bubbling to the surface. “Please forgive me,” he whispered softly between soothing sounds he was humming to you. “Please, I can’t bear it.”
“I don’t work myself to the bone, lose sleep, lose time, because I want to be far from you. I am doing this for something greater, for a chance to fix what I can. To… to matter. And I… miss you as well,” he said calmly, holding you close to his chest.
“Do you?” you quipped sheepishly, trying to muster whatever composure was left within you. Cradled in Viktor’s arms, you found yourself at a loss of other words. The argument suddenly dissolved into something softer as you began tracing your fingers idly along the beauty marks on his neck.
Viktor nodded a few times too many and placed his hand on your neck. “I will be more mindful,” he said simply. “And you can visit me at work more often and pull me out of there by the ear. How does that sound?”
It was your turn to nod, spreading dampness across your face. You swung your legs over his lap and nuzzled your face into his hair. Viktor shifted slightly, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your cheek.
“Will you let me make it all up to you?” he asked softly, his voice low and reverent. His thumb lingered on your skin, tracing the faintest curve of your cheekbone.
You swallowed, your skin getting warmer under a blush. “Well, what do you have in mind?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Something you might like,” Viktor replied, leaning closer, his forehead resting against yours. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”
You didn’t respond right away, your breath catching as his fingers grazed your jaw, sliding down to cradle your chin. His touch was featherlight, almost hesitant, but his gaze never wavered, holding you captive.
“Okay,” you breathed, the word escaping before you could stop it.
His lips quivered into the faintest smile—playful, yet soft. He shifted again, his hands trailing down your arms until he caught your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours. He brought them to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, slow and deliberate.
“Děkuji,” he murmured, the gratitude in his voice making your heart ache.
His movements were careful as he guided you to lay down and took a moment to unclip his leg brace. He then scrambled up beside you, your knees touching, each move soft and lazy, giving away how tired his body was after another sleepless night. You let him pull you closer, his arms wrapping securely around you, his touch steady and grounding.
You took a long, audible inhale, as your fingertips traced the lines of his face. The faint circles beneath his eyes, the curve of his jaw, the slight harshness of stubble that rasped under your touch. Viktor closed his eyes briefly, a soft sigh escaping him as if your touch alone was enough to undo him.
“You’re so tired,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over the shadow on his cheek.
“We can take this slow,” he murmured, his lips quivering into a smile. His hand found your waist, his touch firm yet gentle. “I like taking my time with you.”
He dipped his head, his lips grazing the side of your neck. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine as he whispered, “I am really sorry, lásko. I hope you believe me.”
Your breath hitched as his words bounced off your skin. “I do. And I am sorry too,” you whispered back, trying to will the blush away from your cheeks.
He gave you a tentative kiss, barely a press of his lips to yours. For a moment, lips were just touching, mouths slightly open as you both breathed each other in. He smelled of ink and chalk, a powdery scent lingering in your nose. His hands pressed firmer on your sides as he pulled you closer, your stomachs pressed together.
One of his legs snaked in between yours and he pressed his knee to your core, warmth already pooling in your lower belly. Your kissing deepened, tongues got involved and you could feel your teeth clacking against each other. Noses pressed together, as your hands travelled under the layers of his clothing to ghost over his stomach and his hips bucked into yours, making you gasp.
“Tickles,” he chuckled into your mouth, his breath growing heavier and quiet moans escaped him with each kiss. You let your hands wander, finding an easy rhythm as you glided your touch onto his hips and thighs.
Feeling him grow harder beneath you, you palmed his length through the trousers and ground your hand on it. Viktor gasped at the sudden attention to his cock, the fabric adding a delicious friction to the movement.
He reciprocated easily with the knee between your legs. Lazily, he moved it back and forth, testing the pressure to see where it made you squirm. One of his hands traversed the plane of your back downwards to your ass to fondle it gently, his fingers dancing on it, tracing words before allowing himself a leisurely squeeze.
Your kissing grew hungrier and you added some pressure to your hand to finally grip his now fully hard cock through the cloth. Viktor’s body wordlessly asked for more, bucking needily into your touch, his brows pinched together, his panting breaths fanning your face.
He retreated his knee from between yours and before you could whine, his cock and your cunt met in a long, sloppy drag of your bodies against each other. He ground himself against you with a desperate want, as if his brain suddenly remembered what was missing when spent long hours at work.
The material of his pants became unbearably tight against the almost nonexistent layer of your knickers. His hand abandoned your ass in favour of snaking under your soft, frilly nightdress to cup your bare breast, while the other cradled your cheek. He tilted your head to nip at your neck and you whined at the sudden attention to all the sensitive spots on your body—his hand groping your chest, thumb brushing against your nipple, his cock against you, the feeling of his teeth on your neck, followed by soothing kisses, love marks already blooming on your skin.
“You are doing so well, lásko,” he murmured into your neck, the honeyed sound melting something inside you. “You have no idea how you make me feel.” A low whisper followed by the feeling of his hands shifting you onto your stomach, as he pulled himself up to sit. He grabbed a pillow to stabilize his knee and pulled your skirts up to your shoulder blades.
He took a moment to take in the view, tracing your skin with his fingertips, to finally press his face to your ass cheek, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your spine, his hands gently beckoning your hips up. He guided your left knee to bend, mirroring his own, when he caged himself on top of you, his chest splayed flat against your back.
His left arm cradled around your chest, palm cupping your cheek as you intertwined your fingers with his. You could feel his length ghosting between your legs, but even the sharp press of your hips against him wasn’t enough. “Viktor, please,” you let out an undignified huff and Viktor chuckled into the nape of your neck, snaking his free hand between your front and the mattress.
He cupped your cunt, material sticky against his fingers and you could feel his mouth blooming into a smug smile as he teased, “Missed me so much, have you?”
His clothed cock poked at the wet membrane of your knickers as his fingers began their precise work on your clit, the friction of the fabric becoming unbearable and you couldn’t help another mewl, “Viktor, please, I can’t—”
You got cut off by your own sob, when Viktor murmured into your ear, “Oh, but I like you so much like this.” He placed an infuriatingly sloppy kiss on your pulse point, your hips bucking against your will. You didn’t know which was worse, the teasing or the absence of his fingers, because the whine that escaped you when he retreated his hand made your breath catch in your throat.
He freed his cock from the confinement of the fly, not bothering with the rest. Then, he slid the gusset of your underwear to the side and dragged his fingers along your seam, coating them with your slick, before inserting one inside. Gently adding another, he hummed appreciatively, your clit mercilessly teased with his thumb.
When you were ready, he wrapped himself back around you, took his cock to wet it at your entrance and sunk into you slowly, drawing a long, breathy moan from your lips. Once fully sheathed, he pulled his hips back to give you a snappy thrust, before finding a rhythm. His free hand wandered back to your clit, his attention unwavering, as he worked you in small, steady circles.
Your breathing grew heavier, and Viktor slid the fingers of his other hand from your cheek into your mouth, teasing your tongue. Completely trapped underneath him, you were at the mercy of his hips and his fingers, as he murmured sweet nothings into your ear.
Sinking deeper and deeper into you he hit a spot that drew a wail from the bottom of your throat, your hips bucked in the tight space between him and the bed, his fingers unwavering between your legs and you could feel yourself tightening, your core tied into a knot close to a release.
His movements grew more sloppy and needy, his mouth close to your ear, murmuring, “You are doing so well, I love you so much,” in a hushed tone between kisses pressed to your temple and the back of your neck. With your walls tightening around him, he came with a loud groan, flexing on top of you, bringing you with him with a couple precise flicks of his fingers. You came as he was spilling inside you, the feeling of damp warmth spreading around your underbelly.
He drew a couple of hot breaths, still splayed on your back, before rolling to the side and dragging you close with your back to his chest. He combed your hair away from your neck and placed a lingering kiss on the spot where it met your shoulders.
You took his hand into yours and brought it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. He chuckled warmly and asked, “Am I forgiven?”
“The judge and the jury agree the atonement was sufficient,” you teased, though your voice was barely there. You shifted around to face him and nuzzled your face into his neck. “I now would like to prove a theory that this would be equally enjoyable if provided upon a shorter hiatus.”
“Oh you know me,” he murmured into your hair. “I would do anything for science.”
#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#viktor fanfic#viktor x reader smut#viktor x f!reader#arcane#viktor smut#arcane fanfic#my writing#ao3#ao3 fanfic#viktor x oc#viktor nation#request
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Bottled Up (Satoru Gojo x Reader)
MDNI SMUT 18+ CONTENT
Gojo can’t cum. Too much on his mind, not enough time to himself, not enough chances to indulge. It’s becoming a matter of personal hygiene. He can't go on like this. He needs help. Your help.
Ao3 Masterlist.
WC: 7.4k Warnings: casual sex, raw sex, penetrative sex, kissing, kissing SLOPPY, oral m!receiving, discussion of anal but not present really, improper use of cursed energy, doggy, begging, crying, desperate whiny Gojo, brief mention on former satosugu,
------ Wow can you guys even believe? I actually wrote something about Gojo!! Tbh writing about/for him intimidates the fuck out of me but i have some longer form ideas about him so this was a good exercise. I hope y’all like it. -Doodle
Satoru can’t cum. He’s broken. His balls dried up. His dick died. His cursed energy overloaded and rendered him impotent. Limitless misfired and clogged him completely. It was the only way to explain why he hadn’t cum in two months.
He used to be able to cum. Fuck, he used to cum too easy. Ten years ago he would jerk off before hooking up so he didn’t cum too fast. He was so fucking sensitive, every touch or graze could send him shivering. Now he would have given anything for his days as a quick draw. That life was over.
Do people have cum caps? Like a finite amount of times they can orgasm and an excess of masturbation and experimentation in his youth had burned through his chances. He wants to believe that if he had known how wasteful he was, he would have acted differently, but it was a lie. He was too instinctual, everything in his nature, his upbringing, had taught him to trust his instincts above all else. They kept him alive, kept him going, kept him satisfied. But now, a vital piece of the puzzle was missing.
It was the sixty-sixth day in a row. He got home around eleven pm, an earlier night than most. His apartment, with its spotless, professionally tended, interior that betrayed the depraved chaos burning inside of him. Dropping his keys and shoes at the door he groaned into the silence at the way his work pants shifted against his throbbing erection trucked down his left leg. This was the part that was growing painful. The sensitivity. It started just around his pelvis, any brush of fabric or misjudged distance between himself and curses, near his hips would send a shaking beat of pleasure up his spine. But it spread, and spread. Even the car seat against his back was starting to turn him on. Last week Principle Yaga touched the back of his neck by mistake and his eyes rolled back. His black blindfold was working finding more work by the day. He started leaving limitless up constantly, well, more constantly. Only dropping completely after he had crossed the threshold of his home. Anything else was too risky.
Today had been rough, he woke up aching between his legs, the coldest shower he could stand helped to bring it down, but not for long. On the way to work he had to cross and re-cross his legs, a difficult feat at his height, over and over until he got to the school. Because of his existence in the good graces of the universe, there were no classes, only a brutally endless string of meetings. Not good, but at least…seated. By the time the final meeting was dismissed he thought he could bite through a cement support beam. On the way out, one of the higher ups patted him on the back, limitless blocking it from making contact, but he found a tantalizing urge to let it pass through, just for the contact.
He was fucking ruined.
Passing through the mainroom, up the staircase to the bedroom, he pulled his blindfold from his eyes, blinking a few times, snowy eyelashes relaxing from their position pressed against his eyelids. Finally in his bedroom, he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, already breathing hot and deep. He passed his bed into the ensuite bathroom, clicking the light and taking in his own reflection.
Fuck, he looked rough.
Skin sallow. Muscles strained and tense. Still handsome, of course, but drained. Like he had been wrung out.
And alone.
Satoru clicked the light off. He couldn’t go there.
He walked himself over to the bed, lithe hands finding his belt and unfastening it, slipping his pants down his legs. A relieved sigh left his mouth as the tight garment was removed. He sat on the edge of his bed, palming his desperate erection. He was shivering, the stimuli so overwhelming already. He wasn’t hopeful, but he was too desperate to stop. Keening back onto the bed, he let his eyes close. He didn’t want to see, the only sensation he wanted was to feel himself, touching himself, bringing him to the peak that felt so insurmountable. He was diamond hard now, finally he pulled himself free of the confines of his briefs. Taking his length into his hand, circling his palm over his barren tip.
He couldn’t even precum anymore.
He groaned in frustration, scooting back further on the cushy mattress, his briefs joining his discarded pants on the floor. He spit onto his hand, coating his dick from base to head, easing his strokes. He let his head fall back against the pillows, dredging up memories of past lovers to try and aid his efforts. He wasn’t really a porn guy, not above it, certainly. But it was overstimulating, bright lights, too colorful, just overwhelming to his already heightened senses. He preferred to rely on his own mind, he was in total control there. Or at least he used to be. His mind was too full of other bullshit to wander into the salacious. Work, always work. Lesson plans, missions, reports, meetings.
Fuck.
He reset, turning over onto his knees, moving one of his silken pillows under him, opting to rut against the soft cushion. One hand underneath pressing it against his length. His head hanging heavy under his shoulders, sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. The cold silk pillowcase against his cock, making his sweating body erupt into goosebumps. He slid his hips, gasping out shuddering breaths. It felt so good, so cold and soft against his begging erection. The muscles in his back rippled, swelling and beckoning under his frosty, even skin. The light of his bedroom cast gorgeous shadows on his back and hips, bringing out his excellent physique. The shadow of his spine, the lat muscles under large, perfectly worked arms, almost appearing as angel wings in the low, soft glow.
He brought his thoughts to long shapely legs, thighs shaking under his touch. Lips, wet and swollen, against his own. This was working, his breath was starting to catch in time with his hips against the pillow. He let his mind continue to wander and increased his speed. Glute muscles flexing hard as images of bodies he once held, some with features he knew well, some less familiar but still worth remembering. Some too familiar, silky, long black hair falling into his mouth. Dark violet eyes, full, strong arms.
No. Not that. He couldn’t go there either. There was nothing left for him anymore.
It killed his momentum. Still aching below but too stormy on top. Stilling his hips, slouching over the mattress. He took a few deep breaths, trying to take in the room around him in pieces, grounding himself in the present. In reality.
He wiped his wet hand over his face then on the sheets below him, gripping hard. This was getting ridiculous. He felt pathetic. Tears burned behind his blessed eyes. He felt broken. He felt shame bubbling behind his navel. He couldn’t live like this. He needed to cum. He needed to release all of this build up and get himself right.
Satoru pulled his phone from the discarded pants and tapped it a few times. Until he found just what he was looking for.
Your phone screen illuminated your dark bedroom. Your humidifier was on, your lights had been long turned out. You had just fallen asleep after some restless tossing and turning. The screen lit up again, this time chiming out a text notification. That jarred you from the warm grip of dream and made your head spring up. You glanced at the screen, trying to read the too bright notification with sleep still coating your eyes. But before you could, it changed to the dimmer incoming call screen. It vibrated on the nightstand, suddenly too loud to ignore. You sighed, and retrieved it.
It was Gojo. He was calling you. You hadn’t seen him in months. fuck was that right? You thought back. You hadn’t seen him in…six months. The last time you left his gorgeous, perfectly styled, agonizingly well put together apartment, it hadn’t been on bad terms, by any metric, but it wasn’t like you were falling into each other's arms either. There hadn’t been any blow out or agreement not to see each other anymore, it just fizzled out. You were sure you had been disappointed when the calls and texts slowed to a trickle, but it wasn’t like you were dating or anything. You had hooked up a few times earlier in the year. No more than four times total. Okay, six times. Okay, nine times. Okay, you lost track somewhere in the second month. What really qualifies as hooking up these days, anyway? Just penetration or sexting? Oral? Hand stuff? Hand stuff in public? Other stuff in public? What should even qualify if you were keeping track -- which you weren’t! You answered the call.
“Do you know what time it is?” You sighed out, smiling through your feigned annoyance.
He purred on the other side of the line, “hmmmm, what are you wearing?”
“Pajamas, because it's almost one in the morning.” your voice was hoarse, sleep having laid your vocal cords to rest.
“Sounds hot.” You could hear his stupidly sexy smile, “You should come over. Can’t waste an outfit like that at home.”
You laugh, already planning how quickly you could pull yourself together, and whether or not the trains were still running, “You’re kidding me. I haven't heard from you in months. You call at an ungodly hour and expect me to come running over at the drop of a hat?”
“You don’t have to run, I’ll send a car.” He coos.
You laugh again, stretching in your bed, letting out a soft groan.
“mmmm, do that again.” His voice grew heavier, there was some suspicious sounding rustling on his end.
You stayed quiet, wanting to see if you would hear anything else and wanting to deny him.
“Now don’t be like that, baby.” He whines, he sounds pathetic “I need your help. It’s an emergency.”
You got out of your bed, still taking your sweet time, savoring his helplessness, “An emergency, huh? Nothing fatal I hope.”
His tongue clicks on the other side, “hmmm, it’s hard to say. Could be a fever, I’m feeling…hot.”
You hate that a line so corny is making you bite your lips to keep quiet. You slipped into a cuter, but still comfy lounge set, a bit more versatile than your pajamas “Sounds contagious, maybe it would be best if I stayed home…”
“Please!” His voice changed, cracking and almost panicked, “I need you, please.”
There was no version of this conversation that ended any other way, “Send the car.”
“Already outside.” You heard his face split into that gorgeous smile you couldn't resist, not even over the phone.
When you arrived at his front door, you didn't even have a chance to knock before he swung the door open. And fuck he looked good. Bad, but good? Not bad, just…disheveled. He hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, inhumanly muscled torso glowy and flushed, his hair matted and unkempt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The long, angled white scar healed from an injury long past going from his shoulder to his opposite hip. You traced the line with your eyes, recalling the first time you had seen it, how he had moved your fingers over it, getting you used to the feeling of it under your touch, assuring you that it was long healed and nothing to fuss over. Every inch of him was perfect, despite his pain, his history. You couldn’t resist the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Your ogling did not go unnoticed, looking up to his face you saw the smile you had heard so much of recently.
“Miss me?” He opened the door wider, allowing you to enter, ducking under his arm.
“Yeah.” You admitted rolling your eyes and stepping inside, leaving your shoes at the door.
You took in the sleek, cavernous town house around you. His decor hadn’t changed at all, a lovely front room, a staircase along one windowed wall, leading up to his bedroom. If you were to press further into the main floor, peeling back shoji screens you would find more bedrooms, frozen in time just as they were last left by their former inhabitants, his office, barely ever touched, a gorgeous bathroom complete with a personal sauna. For someone who spent nearly no time at home, he really did have the house dreams are made of.
“I can get you something to drink if you want.” He offers, shutting and locking the door.
“That’s okay. You sounded pretty desperate on the phone, I’d hate to keep you waiting.
He wasn’t totally ready for this part. Having to explain what was going on with him. He shifted a bit, he wanted you so bad. He needed it. He needed every part of you right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“Come on Gojo, you got me out here. Don’t get shy on me now. What’s the big emergency?” You set your bag down on his expansive kitchen island, not subtly eyeing the absolutely incomprehensible bulge tenting the front of his sweats.
“It’s been so long, why the rush, Sugar?” He plays coy, approaching you with a suave gait, moving past you to the refrigerator, “Sparkling water? Still? I can go down to the cellar if you want something stronger?”
“Gojo…” You raise your eyebrows.
“I have tea or coffee if you prefer. Some sodas, you like diet right?”
“Gojo come on---”
“You know i'm not great in the kitchen but if you’re hungry I could---”
“Satoru!” You cut him off, finally pulling his attention from the icebox, “What’s up with you?”
His white eyebrows knit together in the center, making his eyes droop pitfully, “I can’t cum.”
You can barely hear his confession, and you must have heard him wrong so in earnest you ask, “What?”
“I can’t cum. For weeks, nothing. I try and I try and just…nothing.” He blurts, simultaneously relieved and mortified.
You know you shouldn't stare, that you should say something, but you’re dumbfounded. There was once a time, not too long ago even, where he had you bent over this exact counter pushing through his own leaking orgasm to bring you to tears. And that had been the third round that night. You always thought he was the untouchable man, a paragon of self control and pushed limits. To think of him unable to even pleasuring himself, it felt impossible.
“You can’t cum?” You say dumbly.
“Well now that you have repeated it, I think I must be cured, you can go now.” He rolled his eyes, leaning his shoulder against the fridge, fighting the hiss that bubbles in his throat from its chilling surface against his heated skin.
“I’m sorry!” You put your hands up like you had been caught, “It's just a little hard to believe! I never expected you to….struggle…in this…area.”
Gojo’s eyebrows flew up, every word you said made it worse. You could feel it but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were apparently determined to put every foot possible in your big stupid mouth.
“I just mean because you’re usually so good! How could this happen, are you sick? I don’t know why I would even ask that! Obviously you’re not sick, you're just….having some…dysfunction.”
“Why would you say dysfunction?” He stared at you, ego bruised but still amused at how poorly you were handling this.
“I didn’t mean like that! I Just---”
“Any other word. Any word in the world you could have said, and you go with dysfunction.” He chuckles, his own embarrassment now vacated completely in wake of how flagrantly you had just shit the bed.
“That was super dumb, and I’m really sorry. I have no idea what to say.” You just gave up on the second half of the sentence, knowing nothing you were saying was going to help.
“I don't have erectile dysfunction, the erection is not the problem,” He doesn’t have to gesture below his waist, the subject of conversation stands perfectly at attention, pushing against the flimsy fabric, “It won't go away, I’m stuck like this, and I can’t think about anything else, and I can’t get anything done. I need your help, you have to help me get rid of it.”
Your chest warmed a bit, a sly canary eating smile crossed your face, “So you called me, huh?”
“Yes I called you.” He sighs.
“Out of everyone you could have booty called to help your infinite boner, you call little old me? Gojo, I'm touched!” You sound like you're accepting a Nobel prize.
He rolls his eyes, “I knew you were going to be annoying about this.”
You took a seat at one of the bar stools at the counter, resting your head flirtatiously on your perched hands, “So like when you were choosing who to call, what made you pick me…am I just that good?”
You were, fuck you really were. He had thought about you so many times, Your perfect body, your pretty eyes, your soft hair, your legs around his hips, your fucking mouth. It had been too long over all, but it had been far too long since he had been with you. He called you because he knew you were great, and because he trusted you. He could be honest with you without judgement, your current reaction notwithstanding. He knew that he could count on you to be discreet and up front. There weren’t any guessing games when you were together, he didn’t have to guess or grasp for clues at how you were feeling. He knew you.
“That’s right.” He nodded, willing to let you have this.
You let out a teasing school yard oooooooooooooh. Batting your eyelashes and grinning widely, feeling like the absolute queen of the universe.
But he was growing impatient, “You gonna help me out, or what?”
“Sounds like I have quite the reputation to protect, how long has it been exactly?” You eyed him up and down.
“Still about twenty centimeters. Give or take.” He answers, “Oh! You mean--two months.”
“Months? Two MONTHS?” You gawked and then caught yourself, “I’m sorry I know that doesn’t help…I just can’t believe you’re upright. How are you not hospitalized?”
“If this conversation takes much longer I may have to be.” He crosses the room to you, leaning over where you are seated on the counter, putting his arm around you to grip the back of your chair.
You lean back, taking in a breath as he leans closer. Fuck, he’s so handsome. Perfect pearly skin, hair soft and fluffy, those fucking eyes holding you still under their gaze.
“Come on, Sugar, help a guy out. We’re friends right? Friends help each other.” His breath is sweet against your face.
You feel hypnotized, looking between his eyes and lips in a dizzying circle. His cocky demeanor you were so used to was crackling, you could see beads of sweat that had formed on his brow, his tongue wet and heavy kept his lips parted, drawing you closer. He smelled like him, warm and clean, the whole place smelled like him. You were completely in his arena, but you still had all the power. The Strongest asking you for help, begging even, you felt high. You tilted your head up, close to his face, catching his eyes,
“What are friends for?” You closed the distance between you, locking your lips together.
He is quick to pull you closer, making your breasts press hard against his chest, drawing a moan from both of you. His tongue slips past your lips, and maps the interior of your mouth quickly. Reacquainting himself with your taste. Even just a kiss, a real kiss, made his body shudder. His left hand holds your face, his long fingers splayed over your cheek, from your neck up to you temple, his right hand held the back of your neck, keeping you firm in place against him. You are far handsier than him in this moment. You can’t stop yourself, you missed his body, his kiss, him. Feeling his toned stomach, around his hips to his back, digging your nails in just enough to see if he gasps. He does not. Far too focused on the sloppy, dripping kiss he waited so patiently for. He’s leaning over you, pushing you further and further back, making you dangerously close to falling off the stool below you. But of course, his hand grabs your back, holding you still, right where we wanted you. Just past the point where you would have to engage your abs, but not far enough for you to want to hold yourself up. Muscles right on the precious of passive ability and focused contraction, forcing to to rely on his hold, trusting him completely, and he could feel you would relax into his palm, melting into his touch.
“Fuck, Gojo. You really are desperate.” You giggled as his kissed moved down to your jaw and neck.
He moaned against your skin as your nails clawed at his lower back, nodding his head passively, running his tongue over your pulse point.
“You’re so pretty.” He hooks your leg over his hip, pressing the problem child erection right against yours clothed cunt, drawing a shaky gasp from you.
“Not here.” He pulls himself away. “Upstairs…do this right…let’s”
He’s not finishing any of his sentences, you almost worry if whatever problem that resides in his cock could be spreading to his brain. But maybe it was contagious because you can’t bring yourself to care. Holding your hand a bit too tight, he pulls you forward and up the staircase to his bedroom. He doesn’t bother shutting the door, no one else has lived here in a long time. The house is quiet, bar from the panting breaths that drip from both of you, the rustle of clothes, and the reconnection of hot, desperate skin. You kiss him again, pushing him back toward the bed. He allows you to push him onto the mattress, disconnecting your lips.
“So?” You flirt, standing naked before him, letting him see all of you, “how do you wanna fix this?”
He has shed his sweatpants in the shuffle, propped up on his elbow, the other hand giving himself long, slow strokes.
“I’ve been dreaming about that mouth, baby.” He chews on the interior of his bottom lip, “show me if you’re as good as I remember.”
He spreads his legs, allowing you a good long look at how hard he really has become. Angry, pink tip swollen, veins along the shaft straining against the skin. The lower ab muscles are so strained you think they might pop. You had almost forgotten how fucking big he is. Everything about him was too big. His broad, strong body, his long spindly legs, built, strong arms hanging below his hips, those big hands with their knuckly fingers, his long, thick cock and the ego that accompanied. Seeing all of him, how big he was, made a shock run up and down your spine.
How the fuck had you fit this thing inside of you before?
“Oh, don’t be shy now,” he echos your earlier words, “you can take it.”
Not to be out foxed, you steel yourself and sink to your knees in between his spread legs. He stops stroking himself, leaning against both elbows now, waiting with held breath for you to begin.
Your put your hands on his knees, massaging them down and up, feeling the taut muscles of his thighs, the soft hairs under your hands.
“You think about me a lot?” You kissed the side of his left knee.
“Mhm.” His head hung backs exposing his delicious, wiry throat.
His adam’s apple bobbed as he gasped, you ran your nails down his legs, making his hips jerk upward.
“Don’t tease baby, it’s bad enough already!” He begged.
Fuck he sounded good like that. No one could swing the pendulum of pathetic and cocky quite like Satoru Gojo.
“Two months huh?” You carried on, giving open mouthed kisses up his thigh between thoughts, “you must be sooooo sensitive. Poor baby.”
He nods, his eyes squeezed right, trying to focus on every sensation you’re giving him.
Finally you reach the divot between his hip and the base of his pelvis, the internal hinge of his thigh. You ran your tongue along the muscle, tasting the salt of his body. His hips jerk again.
“Please!” He cries out, the lamp at his bedside flicker off and on again.
“Careful Satoru.” You warned, “all you had to do was ask.”
You swirl your tongue around the swollen, aching tip of his dick. Looping around the underside of the head and sliding your mouth down further.
Satoru was in heaven, his eyes rolled back in his head, he fought to keep his hips still, he didn’t want to hurt you, but fuck he wanted more.
You slide your tongue along each beautiful vein, making a perfect map in your head of the topography of his penis. Pulling off and sinking back down again you could take him all the way to the base, coarse white hair ticking your nose as your relaxed your throat to accommodate him he fell back against the bed, one hand moving your hair off your forehead so he could see your pretty face. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more, relax into the pleasure and let it wash over him, or watch you take him further. He leaned up to watch, just as your peeked on eye open to see him falling apart. But the eye contact was too much for him to bear, he felt his cheeks erupt in a blush, and he fell backward again, using one arm to shield his eyes.
You tutted, running his cock along your lips as your spoke, giving it sloppy kisses to make the syllabals, “oh Satoru, look at me, baby. Doesn’t it feel good?”
He nods but doesn’t look up. He can’t bear it. Your weepy eyes filling with tears from the lack of breath, your lips swollen, encasing his cock head. Your hair pulled to one side, giving him a perfect view of your hollowed cheeks as you suck and pull at him. With your spit coating his cock, the sensitivity has doubled. Wet, schlucking sounds fill his bedroom, alongside your haughty moans. Or wait…that’s actually him moaning like that. He doesn’t even recognize himself, he’s panting, sweating, begging. He didn’t even realize he was talking but the praises have been spilling from him continuously:
Yes
Baby yes just like that
Fuck you’re so good
You’re so pretty
Fuck you’re doing so good
Feels so good
Baby
Fuck
Sugar
So pretty
So good
I can’t I
Please baby make me
Fuck you’re
Agh
Oh
Fu
Oh
Ah
O
I
All he can manage by the time he looks back at you are open vowel sounds. It’s feels fucking incredible, perfect, if this were three months ago he would have cum in an instant. This was the closest he had felt, but it still wasn’t enough. He had to be inside you. The hand keeping your hair back rounded your face, his thumb pushing against your lips.
“I need to fuck you.” He says breathlessly, “I won’t cum until I fuck you, please.”
You pull off of him, a little disappointed that you wouldn’t get to brag about your head game, but you push it aside and join him on the bed. Clingy as he is, he pulls you close, kissing you hard again. Your mouth is wet with saliva and pre cum. He didn’t have the time to be impressed at your skill bringing forth the pearly substance, he coveted so greatly. He was too focused on being as close as two people can be. You move to straddle his lap, but he shakes his head, breaking from your lips.
“Bend over.” His mouth is wet now, both of you wet from lips to chin.
You grin and climb off him, stacking a few pillows to give you something to rest on and presenting your hips to him. Satoru is getting his bearings back, he feels more in control now that he has moved onto his knees behind you. Desperate as he is he can’t resist brushing two feather light fingers down your spine, watching you arch as he drags them further and further down. Your spine snakes, your hips sway, his fingers find the cleft where your spine meets your ass, a perfectly little dimple, waiting for his hands to paw at, your breathy moan eggs him on, sliding further down, feeling your tight asshole clench from just the lightest of contact.
“You remember when you let me back here?” He circles it, reminiscing, “you were so tight. fuck, you felt so good baby.”
“Remember when you let me back there.” You tried to sound tough but your position bent over with your head buried in your hands made it difficult.
“Mmmmhm.” He felt his dick twitch again, remembering when you had fingered him open, sucking him in tandum, he swore he saw an angel that night.
And here you were again, having rushed over in the middle of the night just to help him, trembling under his fingertips. Maybe you really were an angel. His very own guardian angel. If anyone could bed a steward of the divine it would be him.
“I thought you needed my help.” You whined.
He giggles, leaning over you, close enough that his lips touch your ear, his heavy cock pressing against your slit,“Just making sure you’re as needy as I am.”
He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear, making you squeal. Of course he remembered all your sensitive spots. He returned to his knees behind you, spreading you open, marveling at the mess you had made. Dripping honey onto the bed, onto your thighs, on his hand. His mouth floods, the desire to bury his head between your legs quickly matching his desire to cum.
“Later.” You whimpered, having read his mind, “you need my help.”
He beams, “so selfless.”
Finally, after an hour of build up since your arrival, the agonizing time waiting for you to get here, and the two months of celibacy that had brought him here, he aligned himself at your drooling hole, your spit was still shining along his cock but he ran either side though your folds anyway, making sure he was wet enough. He had fucked enough and had a big dick for long enough that he knew taking it all required some specific anatomy or a lot of prep, usually both. And while you were familiar with him, and giving yourself so willingly to him, he didn’t actually want to hurt you.
“Satoru please just—-“
The rest of your sentence would never see the air of his bedroom. It’s conclusion stolen from you and replaced with a pathetic scream as he pushed inside. He had meant to ease in but as soon as he started he couldn’t stop himself, he bottomed out in his first thrust. A loud smack of your ass hitting his hips still resounded in the room as he pulled back and thrusted in again. Your back arched evilly, dangerously close to snapping your spine in half. Despite his tunnel vision, Satoru eased his hand up your back, effortlessly smoothing it and gripping your shoulder for more leverage.
“Yes! Oh fuck yes.” He grunted, thrusting in an evil pace.
You couldn’t even speak, he was so deep, you were willing to bet his made an impression agains the front of your stomach. On your pillow pedastule you sank further, and reached up one formerly supportive hand to grip his on your shoulder.
“Sa…sa…” you panted out, not even able to string his name together.
He moved to long, languid, but devastatingly deep thrusts, the hand on your shoulder holding the side of your neck now, “that’s it, sugar. Say my name. Say my name, baby, come on.”
You tried, you really fucking tried but the letters wouldn’t come, “S—Sa—-sss.”
Your eyes rolled back, crumbling completely into the silken pillowcases, not caring if your spit or tears ruined the fabric. He spanked you once hard, making your head shoot up.
“I said say it.” He grunted.
Cocky for a man who was nearly in tears over the phone because he couldn’t bust.
“Satoru!” You finally spilled, his cock pushing hard against your g spot, “Satoru! Satoru please! Be gentle!”
Now that your voice had found you again it was hard not to beg him for mercy.
“Please baby, please! Fuck that’s so good.” You babbled, bringing a sick smile to his face.
He fucked harder, deeper into you, reveling the way your walls fluttered around him. You were so tight he had initially worried he was going to split you in two. But you are his angel, he should have known better than to deny your divinity. Satoru could hear your moans increasing in pitch and becoming choppy. He reached around your hip, finding the perfect pearl between your lower lips and circling his middle finger around. The clench that followed sent you both keening. His fingers brought forth an orgasm you didn’t think was nearly as close. Your hips shaking, biting into the pillow to keep from screaming.
“No baby, let me hear you.‘I need it.” He panted, not stopping his fingers on your clit or his evil thrusts, seeming deeper and deeper every second.
You tried to lift your head but felt dizzy, your vision wasn’t right, your clit throbbed beautifully but made you aware of how fast your heart was. Gojo pulled out turning you on your back, reinserting himself with a kiss to your cheeks.
“Don’t pass out on me, okay? I need you baby, I need your help. Help me, please.” He thrusted slower, only moving a few inches at a time as your came down from the mind fuzzing orgasm.
You nodded, coming back to yourself, you pulled your legs over his hips, your hands moving down the curves of his body. He slower thrust gave you time to admire him. He really was so beautiful. Looking at the sun and having to look away beautiful. His skin was reddening from effort and arousal, splotchy flushes that still couldn’t take away his perfection. The divots on his shoulders, the smell of his sweat, the taste of his spit. Fucking him felt like being completely encompassed in perfection incarnate. And you couldn’t feel luckier to have the chance to be so. He opened his pleasure screwed up eyes, those glowing blue irises, that contained so much of what everyone thought he was, looking down at you with so much trust, so much vulnerability, your heart lurched into your throat.
“You okay?” Satoru scanned your face.
You nodded, pulling him in to kiss you again, feeling his soft hair under your fingers. You held on as he increased his thrusts again. Speed, depth, power, all of it ramped back up to fainting orgasm levels.
Satoru was on the verge of tears, he couldn’t do without again. He couldn’t not cum one more time. He wouldn’t make it. He would bury himself into any hole you offered him again and again and again until he was free from this. Reaching back and pulling your leg over his shoulder, he allowed himself even deeper into you. He watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, your mouth drop open to catch hot, stolen breath from him. He wanted to make it easier, slotting his lips against yours and kissing you deep, tasting your pleasure. He swooned, his heart felt so tight and full it could burst, he was so grateful for you. For your body, your generosity, your care for him that you made look so simple. He knew he wasn’t an easy person to care about, but it seemed to him like you had never considered it cumbersome. Kissing you he felt the tears long built up by restriction begin to fall, wetting his own cheeks as well as yours.
“Satoru are y—-?” You worried against his lips, your hand in his hair moving from. A harsh grip to a soothing pet.
He shook his head, although you were right, “it’s okay. Thank you. Just thank you.”
He kissed you again and carried on thrusting, long and deep. He found your other hand and took it in his own, interlocking your fingers. Hips hard and fast, the friction not enough, he needed to touch every inch of you with every inch of himself. Your pressed against his chest as you moved to match his thrusts, putting aside the emotions that had arisen and remembering your purpose for being here. He had to break away from the kiss, pushing his forhead against yours, gasping out as you synced your thrusts together.
Oh.
Like a dim lantern in a barren desert, a non phosphorescent illusory light in a cave, the shine of climax came into his view. Still holding your hand, one of your legs over his shoulder, bending your body into a bizzare position, he chased it with everything he could. Drilling himself into your drooly, puffy pussy, again and again, causing you to cry out.
“Baby almost, cum with me, please! Pleasepleaseplease.” He squeezed your hand a bit too hard, your fingers felt cramped.
Well, they would, if you could feel them. And your leg would likely feel strained, if you could feel your hamstring still. But you couldn’t feel anything except the white hot pleasure bursting inside of you everytime he pushed against your gspot. Not breaking away from his hand, your other shot between your legs circling your clit, making you tighten up around him. Satoru cried out, the devilish squeeze of your walls felt like the last barrier between him and total bliss.
“Please baby, please.” He can’t control his voice, he doesn’t care, nothing matters when he is this close, “yes, cum around me. I need it. Cum.”
Your eyes flutter back, your head pushes against the pillow, your body erupts into cooling, overwhelming bliss.
Finally, his torment turns, the ache in his stomach unraveling. He can’t believe it, it’s finally about to be over, he feels your body shake underneath him, your hand gripping his so tightly, your cries filling his bedroom. Just at the precipice Gojo, steals one last look at your pleasure struck face, and he falls.
The lights in his bedroom bloom, swell, and overload. Bulbs bursting as he pumps himself through the most earth shattering orgasm he has ever known. Line after line of thick, long stored cum spilling from him into your waiting cunt. The room is plunged into darkness, he buries his head in your neck, panting hard.
You smile as you feel him filing you, and continue filling you. He had always cum a lot, he joked that it was his lineage begging him for continuation. But this was, beyond. Load after load of hot, desperate cum. He pushed his hips closer to you, his body yearning to become fused to yours. To never separate again.
You move one careful hand up his back, feeling the cooling sweat at his neck, the soft hair at the nape. His breath slows against your skin, but he doesn’t yet push himself off of you, keeping his heavy frame collapsed on you. But you don’t dare complain, committing the heat of his body to memory. The moonlight from the window is now, thanks to his discharge of power, the only light in the room. Your eyes adjust slowly, his features glowing in soft blue-white light. The air in the room is thick and full of both of you. Had you an eternity to indulge yourself in this moment, it would still feel too intangible to recall. But you try anyway.
Once his eyes have stopped spinning in their sockets like some knock out cartoon, Satoru pushes himself off of you, staying inside, just hovering above your body. His misty blue eyes look over every inch of you in a second. Taking in everything about this moment, how your skin reflects the moonlight, your eyes heavy and half lidded with sleep and bliss, your soft smile waiting for him to say something. But he wasn’t ready yet, he pressed his lips to yours again, firm but not desperate. He’s kissed you lavishly and with no burning sense of time. It could be called lazy if it weren’t for the focused decadence behind his mouth. He finally separates, thin silks of spit still unbroken between you two.
You brought your unheld hand to his face, cupping his cheek, watching as his eyes flutter shut. You could see tears drying on his cheeks, overwhelm and gratitude thier origin. The moon brought them forward for your viewing, you swiped a thumb under one eye. They both open under your touch, filling with something unreadable. He let go of your hand, opting to mirror your hold on your face, using one long finger to brush away a hair gelled to your sticky forehead.
“Thank you.” He reiterates, the frantic gratitudes from before nullified into a sincerity that made you nervous despite the juxtoposition of his cock still inside of you.
“Anytime, Satoru.” You can feel your cheeks heat, but your bliss doesn’t waver.
He slid out of you slowly, careful not to jostle his tingling, overstimulated length.
You both are left panting once he has been removed completely. He moved onto his side next to you, on his back, breathing up into the dark ceiling. You realize that you had no way of knowing what time it was. The thoughts of work and responsibility tomorrow we’re beginning to gnaw at the edges of your mind. You should get home soon, leave him to his new sexual freedom. You’d imagine he would be ready to pass out if he wasn’t asleep already. The expulsion of cursed energy enough to knock out the lights, enough to send him comatose.
You should know better than to underestimate him. Gojo sits up, stretching his long arms in front of him, allowing the formerly clenched back muscles to reset. Leaning back against his hands he looks down to you.
“I gotta change the bulbs and reset the fuse box. You wanna stay here? Once I’m done we can go again.” That flirty smile quickly irresistible, “orrrr, if you help me I’ll be done ever faster and I can thank you properly.”
You rolled your eyes, giggling, “I’m still recovering from the last favor I did for you. Come get me when you’re done.”
You settle back into his bed, the luxe duvet the perfect cloud-like weight on your shoulders. The smell of him clinging to every stitch of his sheets.
He moved off the bed, slipping on his underwear and making quick work of changing the burst light bulbs. This wasn’t the first time a miscalculated charge had knocked out the electrical system of his house. He had a private grid, it wasn’t that elegant but between the solar panels on the outside and a small self sustaining aquaphir underneath, it was nearly entirely self sufficient. So it was simple enough to fix when it did happen. When he switched the fuse box, the electric hum returned. Back in his bedroom he found you sleeping, curled up in his bedding, snoring softly. He moves some hair off your shoulder, fingers gentle on your thin, soft skin. Bare except for the duvet pulled over your shoulders. He crouched next to you silently, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. He was lucky to have you, someone who would help him so readily, so selflessly. Someone he could trust and confide in. It had been a long time since he could trust someone like this. Still standing over you, he watched as your stirred, sleepy eyes opening to take him in, squinting against the refreshed lighting.
“Coming back to bed?” Your sleep riddled voice charmed.
“Oh I’m not done with you yet.” He moved into bed beside you, taking your body in his arms once again, his lips fighting home under your jaw.
He really was insatiable.
YAY!!! I hope y'all enjoyed this one. It was fun to write and fell together really easily. I am a lot less intimidated by writing gojo now. But I would love to hear yall's feedback on how it came off!! PLEASE! again, i have a much longer, more structured idea for him that I am wanting to build up to eventually so i would really love to know what yall think. Doodle <3 <3
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#doodle talks#jjk smut#jjk imagines#jjk oneshot#jjk fic#jjk me#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk fanart#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo headcanons#gojo smut#jujutsu gojo#gojo saturo#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu satoru#satoru x you#satoru smut#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n
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Expanding on being Olrox's best friend.
My genuine belief is this friendship would form on mutual respect. It's clear Olrox is someone who doesn't take his true loyalties lightly. And he is beyond tired of people who are power hungry or buy into group mentalities.
I believe you would have met Olrox during a time of hardship for yourself. You being a humble individual who merely wanted to exist. Though, of course, the world wouldn't make such a thing so simple.
Olrox has basically spent his entire life forming alliances to get by. He found you trapped as an abstract entity being used by vampires. He found it distasteful but didn't do a thing at first.
Discovering you had a consciousness was a point of intrigue for him. You could think and feel. Hearing you speak wasn't surprising but amused him nonetheless.
You two held conversations now and again. It became obvious to you that Olrox merely sought out for himself and couldn't care less about the ambitions of the vampires that held you. You decided quite quickly you liked him.
He quipped about your abusers and boasted about his lover. Admittedly, it rubbed you the wrong way he sat by as you were made into a toy. But this man was the closest thing to what it was like to be treated like a person, so you clung to your brief interactions.
Plus, he was funny. At least you were getting something out of this. Olrox was keeping you sane.
You within an inch of your mental capacity each day. You were in pain and long past tolerant of others.
You were aware of what happened to Olrox's lover. You have no idea why he told you. He did it so matter of factly.
The way he always smirked when talking to you was replaced with a bitter scowl. His demeanor was a far cry from how playful and snarky he was before.
Instinctively, you offered your wish for his peace with the matter. You even complimented his lover. You saw him briefly. You were....more perceptive than average, let's put it that way.
Olrox's expression was unreadable but it was clear he absorbed your words.
Olrox had been put in charge of commanding you at some point. You spent more time together. Your being was still confined but your consciousness good stretch for eons.
You didn't mind Olrox commanding you. He was far kinder and just did what was necessary. Perhaps he wasn't exactly overly familiar. But he treated you as something akin to a lieutenant. Rather than a dog.
You formed a habit of calling him "master".
He never said anything. But somehow you could tell it bothered him. You thought it was because he wasn't fond enough of you to even consider you a servant. Still. You were attached and refused to stop.
One day you were pushed too far by the vampires that kept you. You were in agony.
After they left, you begged Olrox to set you free. You called him master like you always did. His green eyes pierced into you. You must've looked absolutely pathetic. Even without a face or body.
Something about the way he stood there enraged you. And the next time the other vampires came to make use of you, you did away with them all. Many more came to attack but your blind rage stopped them.
Olrox's smile as he watched you was irritating.
As much as you liked the guy, you were beyond tired of being viewed as a pass time. You aimed for him. And funnily enough, you did your fair share of damage.
Olrox got close enough to your prison. Imagine your surprise when he released you.
"You almost killed me." The laugh in his voice was baffling.
You had a better chance of doing that now that you were free. You didn't find it worth being impressed over. At least, not from his perspective.
You blinked as he simply turned to walk away.
Odd as it was, you instinctively thanked your master. Your previous rage was dwarfed by your confusion at Olrox's contradictory actions. All you could muster in your daze was gratitude.
Olrox replied with saying he had no idea who you were referring to.
You blinked.
"You're smart enough to slaughter a group of fools beholden to their delusions of grandeur. And another who stood by even as your screams carried over the ocean." Olrox smirks. "I think you're long past that."
You blinked. Smart, he says.
Olrox shrugged at your confusion. "You choose now of all nights to end them. Or us. I suppose I'm included in that. You've been watching the moon, haven't you? Being free now...Why, I don't think the night has ever been so beautiful. Wouldn't you agree?"
You were baffled at what he was implying. You insisted on calling him master.
He tutted your fixation on that.
"That's what no one ever told you. You don't need masters."
You gaped.
He smiled. "You figured that out all on your own. Everyone here is dead. You made an attempt on my life for my inaction. In what world does someone like that need anyone?"
You went quiet. Olrox was going to leave. You watched him go.
"You may follow me. If you wish." Olrox said without turning or stopping.
Your breath hitched at him reading your desires so easily.
"On one condition."
You bristled. Of course no one ever offered company without a catch-
"Never call me 'master' again." Olrox frowned pointedly at you.
You gaped. An odd request. But...You found yourself silently agreeing, following quickly.
Olrox smiles. A lot softer than you were used to. "I would like to see an actual form in front of me."
You blinked. Was that his way of...encouraging you?
You flushed, solidifying yourself the moment you were outside.
Olrox hummed. "Imagine hiding something this captivating. You're foolish about the strangest things."
You felt you should have been offended. But tears found their way to you. As shrewd as he put it, he undoubtedly called you beautiful.
You two knew each other for centuries and now you were attached to the hip in the open world. You were there for the murder of Julia. Olrox thanked you greatly for assisting in tracking her down but told you to stay out of the fight. You kept to the shadows and proudly watched your beloved friend triumph.
Richter was hardly conscious of everything around him. He froze at Olrox kneeling before him. Your presence felt more like a dream rather than what he was actually seeing. He wasn't sure he had actually seen another vampire there. It was intentional on your part, you hadn't wanted to give Olrox trouble and used your abilities the moment you spotted Julia. Your eyes have haunted Richter's nightmares for years. Though he is unable to tell if it was Olrox's or not. He doesn't remember you.
Mentioned this before, but Olrox allows you to hang onto him.
It's incredibly common place for you to rush to Olrox and put your hands on his chest and lean on him.
He responds with a hand on the small of your back. He'll fully embrace you if you've been separated during battle.
He will full on guard you with his body if it is needed. Though, it's rare. You are a strong vampire.
Full disclosure if he despises someone that flirts with you. Massive protective brother energy.
"Cunts need washings before they speak."
"Olrox!"
Olrox and you use endearments on one another. "Love" and "darling" are the most prominent. But pick your poison of birds, flowers or gems you compare each other to.
You were not amused by Olrox targeting Mizrak. Out of all the men he chose to ove on" with, a hypocritical human of the cloth wasn't in your pickings of the list. You saw Olrox running into his bad habits with him. It worried you.
You had a distaste for Mizrak from the start. It was sealed when he barked at Olrox.
You hissed. "Small mutts shouldn't bark so loud."
Olrox couldn't find it in himself to listen at first. It had been a while, but you knew he was still grieving.
You stayed by his side to offer support but you were waiting for him to throw the whole man out.
You whimpered and touched Olrox's forehead after what Drolta did to him.
"Olrox, love, your pretty little head is hidden."
You were enraged but simply allowed Olrox to take a breath and hold your hand while offering a soft kiss.
It's actually funny how much you have a "you can do better" attitude regarding Mizrak.
To a point Olrox has tickled you with a feather when you go on too long.
Thankfully, your intervention wore Olrox down and he was thinking far more clearly.
Either you healed Mizrak or let him die peacefully.
Regardless, he was weighing down your best friend over your dead blood sucking body. Watching Olrox chose immortality for someone a second time wasn't something you were going to allow.
I feel like being Olrox's best friend would be so nice. Olrox having all that love and trust in you to keep you close and being able to vulnerable. Olrox is the type of friend that you would be attached to the hip with at all times and would be so gentle and caring. Especially considering it's clear Olrox's orbit is scarce due to his past and how he feels about people in general. So his best friend is someone he'd be incredibly protective of and would cherish.
Olrox and his best friend would have tons of witty banter that both pokes fun at the other while also remaining wholesome and affectionate. Though the ones directed at others is ruthless and cutting. Olrox is for sure that friend you sit by and judge others with. You two have this telepathic connection (either literal or metaphorical) where you don't even need to look at each other and you just- react the same way to situations and people's stupidity, both facial expressions and body language. You two are menaces when it comes to being in other's presence. Regardless if it's holding a conversation or being in combat.
Olrox has gently tutted you to behave yourself on rare occasions but you can tell by his grin that he was absolutely encouraging your mischief. He even whispers his own quip in your ear every now and then, adoring when you giggle in response. You two are the biggest gossip buddies in private, making each other howl with laughter discussing what you think about recent events or the people you've ran into. Olrox would be helping you either bathe, do your hair, or simply sharing the bed with you all the while.
Olrox's voice is noticeably softer and thinner with you. Olrox keeps you close by having a gentle hand on your shoulder, waist, or having you cling to his arm. Olrox will often pull you to him and kiss your temple. Or on the side of your cheek. Either as a simple gesture of affection or giving you a swift goodbye in the rare times you two have to separate. Olrox will also hold you to his chest if you're hurting. Olrox seems harsh but for you he actively practices the utmost tenderness when comforting you.
Goodness forbid someone else caused your distress. Olrox will be absolutely feral if anyone dares cause you harm. You are his dear friend and he cherishes your spot in his life. He'll be damned if he lets someone disrupt that, even in the smallest ways.
#castlevania#castlevania imagines#castlevania reader inserts#olrox x reader#fluff#olrox x gender neutral reader#platonic castlevania imagines#castlevania nocturne#olrox#olrox castlevania nocturne#castlevania spoilers#castlevania nocturne spoilers#olrox is a softie you can't change my mind#please this man cherishes his companions like the fattest gem#good aztec snakey snake
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the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine
cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.
loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.
gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.
of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.
it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.
at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.
sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.
“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.
by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.
“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.
before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.
“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”
“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.
toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”
“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.
though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.
soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.
“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.
“let me alone, just today” you whined.
“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.
to correct your form. obviously.
"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.
"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.
"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.
"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.
it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.
"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.
how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...
"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.
and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.
"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.
"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.
"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.
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Cramps Be Gone
Loki X Reader Fluff
Summary: You’re on your period, you’re frustrated, and Loki’s there to help you.
A/n: I got this idea on day one of my period, so… here we are.
The day could’ve been much more cheerful. You and Loki originally planned to go out today. Instead, you were curled up in your bed, groaning every other minute. Why? Because a very unwanted guest showed up at your door this morning. Guess who? None other than your monthly bleed-out session, aka period.
You were lying in your bed with the unhappy knowledge that this will not end anytime soon. Waves upon waves of stab-like pains shot through your lower abdomen, making you groan and press down on that spot. You were tired. So damn tired of it. You were looking forward to this date, but now it’s ruined. You were originally thinking about taking painkillers, but Loki absolutely disagreed.
‘Painkillers,’ he said strictly, ‘are merely something Midgardians came up with to gain more money. They do not help conquer it; it only allows them to forget about it. If you use such things, y/n, believe me, you will behave carelessly and only worsen it and wish me to get you more. Therefore, no, you will not be using such trashy Midgardian medicine. It isn’t even medicine, in my eyes.’ He added, pulling a face.
Loki was there for you, of course. He was always there to help you with your needs, he even let you have breakfast in bed (something he doesn’t usually allow. ‘You’ll dirty everything,’ he used to say in a tone of finality). But he wasn’t there for the most part. He has work to do, you know this, but you still wished he could give it all up and just stay with you. Flipping over under your blankets, you resumed cursing your life.
I’m lonely, you thought sadly, your head under your blankets. You wished your period showed up just one day later. You and Loki have been dating for nearly a month now, it was clear to you that your time of the month was going to hit anytime. But why on this day? On the one day you don’t want it?
You were, not gonna lie, very frustrated. And angry. In need of something (or someone) to rage to, you started blaming your boyfriend for your pain. What was possibly so important that he had to leave you? Couldn’t he leave it till your bleeding days were over? Why? That word seemed to exist in every single thought you had flowing in your head. Why?
On day three it was going terrifying. It was hurting so much you couldn’t even bring yourself to sit upright in your bed. You prayed it would be over, but apparently your prayers were ignored. Oh, how you’d like this shit to finally just end. Loki had to feed you breakfast, it was so painful. He even teased you. Like, is this guy for real? (‘I mean, I could make it go away for nine months…’ he had said while smirking. You slapped his hand, scrunching up your face.) But after that he just pressed a kiss to your forehead and walked out. Sometimes you regret dating this guy.
It was nearly noon when he came back. Your aches soothed a little, but were almost just the same as before. He sat down at the edge of your bed, brushing a strand of your hair out of your face.
‘Oh, now you decide to show up,’ you groaned, ‘now that I’m literally dying in my bed. How was work?’ you put emphasis on the word ‘work’ as you knew he must feel at least slightly guilty about leaving you hanging. He opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and said: ‘Well, about that…’ He looked at you with a pleading look, as if wishing for you not to get angry for what he was going to say. You narrowed your eyes, staring back with a suspicious look.
‘What?’ you asked, your breathing kind of shallow due to the pain throbbing in your lower abdomen. ‘What wonderful surprise have you prepared for me?’ Loki sighed, as if preparing himself for a scolding, and said: ‘I have not been working. Or at least, I wasn’t doing Avengers’ work.’
You bolted upright, causing a stab of pain to shoot through your body. His hand instinctively rose to hold your back and lead you back down. ‘What?! So you’re telling me that you weren’t even doing important shit while I was mentally and physically dying?! What-‘ he put a finger to your lips to shush you. ‘Let me finish,’ he said gently. You reluctantly laid back down, staring at him with accusatory eyes.
‘I have been working, darling. For the past few days I have been digging through my books to find a safe and healthy painkiller for you. You see, Asgardians value health over money, and we have much safer medicines than those on Midgard.’ He says, brushing his hand over your hurting part over your blanket. Heavens, he looked hot when he looked at you with these loving eyes.
Even after listening to his explanation, you still wanted to blame him. Keeping that annoyed look on your face, you whined at him: ‘Well… that’s very… nice of you. But- you should’ve told me beforehand! I thought you were being careless and didn’t give a shit about me! I was so upset.’ Loki looked at you knowingly before answering: ‘Honey, if I told you, you would’ve distracted me with your rushes and caused me to slow down my pace.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘After you’ve recovered, darling.’ He replied, smirking. You rolled your eyes, your cheeks reddening. This man knows exactly how to get to you, you can give him that.
With a swift move, he slipped your blanket off. You shivered slightly at the sudden chill, but Loki reassured you that it wasn’t going to take long. Softly, he brushed his hand over your abdomen, and you felt a warmth surge through where he touched. Soon, you could feel the pain leaving you, finally giving you peace. You sighed, relieved that it was all finally over. You laid back down, closing your eyes and drinking in the fact that Loki was your lover.
‘Be careful,’ he warned as you beamed at him, ‘you may stain easier, now that you don’t feel it.’ You didn’t even wait for him to finish before half-singing: ‘Yeah, yeah, I know-‘ you were suddenly so happy that your period said bye-bye, you thought Loki might’ve given you a cheer-up spell or something.
Eager, you tried to get out of bed, but only got shoved back in. You pouted up at him, staring into his blue eyes. ‘Just because you don’t feel it does not mean it is no longer there. Stay in bed.’ He said.
You hmphed at him, burrowing back into the sheets to sulk. Loki smiles. What a girl he had found.
HELLO! Hope you enjoyed it :D My posting is still kinda limited, thank you for your patience
Taglist: @simplyholl @mischiefmaker615 @vbecker10 @kathren1sky-blog
Tell me if you want to be in my taglist!!
Feel free to comment lol
#god of mischief#loki marvel#loki fanfiction#loki x reader#loki x you#loki#loki x reader fluff#loki laufeyson#loki fanfic#loki x y/n
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Family
George Russell x fem!reader
Summary: While you thought you're about to spend your perfect anniversary night with your boyfriend, life reminds you otherwise.
Warnings: sadness, depressive thoughts, infertility, pregnancy, endometriosis
Word count: 1k
A/N: What can I even say.. I've been at the doctor's today, for check up after my surgery, which was a year ago and I got confirmed that my endometriosis is growing back. Not that I wouldn't know, because I know my body, but being said the facts out loud is hard. I spent my afternoon crying, curled on the couch, questioning myself in case of being able to have a child one day. To get myself out of the misery, I wrote this, because I would like to have someone to come home to me and hold me in his arms, just giving me the support through all this shit. I already wrote a few pieces endometriosis related, so if you want, check it out too. Love you all. <3
---
It was meant to be a perfect day, you had plans to cook some dinner and also had some spicy things in your mind for the night.
Getting through your doctors appointments was something you got used to in the last year, after you had a surgery for your endometriosis. You felt something was off for a few months, your cramps crawling, stabbing you in the back again, those flares being harsh to the point you couldn't even sit. But you held your optimism, trying not to scare George, because worrying him while he was at his prime perfomance during the season wasn't on the list.
Today was meant to be special because you had a two years anniversary.
"Can you see these lesions here? It's back again, I'm sorry."
The words you somehow expected, but didn’t want to hear. The same spiral of pain, hormone shots, nausea and... infertility.
Yeah, you discussed it with George, because everything seems so easy to talk about with him, the idea of having kids.
It gutted you deeply, that you might not be able to give him a child.
As you got home, the space was quiet, only the soft humming of aircondition was heard, making your heart clench, that he's not even there to embrace your mess, even though it's not his fault. George was meant to be home in the evening, but you had a message in your voicemail, that he can’t get home in time, because of the delayed flight. Okay, he'll be here in the morning.
But your sadness and depresive thoughts will be with you through the night. Torturing your mind, getting the best of you, making you feel worthless and weak.
---
"Baby...?"
The faint sound of the deep voice woke you from the nap. You cried yourself to sleep in the living room, still wearing your clothes you went to the doctors in. The coat scattered on the ground next to the couch, your shoes kicked in the hallway, tissues to which you drowned your tears everywhere around you.
George knew something happened, it tugged at his heartstrings, when he saw you like this. Sad, messy and depressed.
You groaned a little, disoriented, while he sat beside you, his gaze locked on your face.
"What happened?"
Softly, he took your hand into his, brushing over your knuckles, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.
Then it hit you again. "It's back again, I'm sorry."
Tears burning in your eyes, you avert them to the side, not able to look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes.
"Hey, love... Don't do this. I know, that something is wrong, but don't try to avoid me, I'm here for you, remember?"
The flicker of hope, that you’re not that worthless went through your mind, your gaze finally locking on his, pouring all your hurt into the pool of his positivity.
"I was at the doctor's today."
Oh no. There's was only one thing that was able to get this reaction out of you.
"How bad is it?"
His hand wander slowly to your cheek, brushing a thumb over it.
"It's not worse than last time, but still... It's there. Again. For fucks sake, again. I hate it so much. I hate myself."
The breaking point, your emotions flew out, your voice cracking and your tears staining your cheeks, your eyes red even more than before.
George pulled you closer to him, letting you lean against him, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The scent of him mixed with his cologne was enough to calm you down a little bit. He was your safe haven.
"Shhh... It's okay, just- just let it out. Be angry, scream and cry. Don't hold it in your mind. I'm here to hold you, to pick up your shattered pieces." his voice was soothing lullaby, when your cries got louder and more desperate. Brushing his fingers through your hair, he pressed the kiss on your temple, rocking you as his arms were wrapped around you tightly.
"I might not be able to have a child, George." you choked out between your sobs, and he looked down at your face with frown.
"Is that the thing that concern you the most?"
"Obviously. What a woman I am, to not give her man a child."
George felt partly offended by your words, but he kept his composure, because he was used to your hateful comments towards yourself, even, for the most of the time, you were a hell of a confident woman, loving yourself.
"Don't talk like this, please. You're much more than a baby machine." he tried to be funny and.. it worked. You smiled through your tears. He reached for your cheek, wiping off your emotions, smiling a little.
"You can't lose hope just like that. We can be lucky, you know. We just have to try, be patient and somewhere along the way, we're gonna be blessed. I don't care if it's gonna be in a month or in years. I'll be there for you along the way. As I always am. And even though we don't get lucky, I'm lucky to have you. And that's all that matters in my life, because you're my family."
And as ever, he managed to give you peace, calming warmth flooded your soul, making you sure in that George is the one.
---
Watching the screen of the ultrasound machine as you laid down on the examination table at your doctor’s, you couldn’t shake the excitement. George, holding your hand, standing beside you, was watching your expression, his chest fluttering at how happy you were.
"Ah, seems like you got very lucky." The doctor chuckled, pointing to the screen, showing two strong fetuses.
"What does it mean?" George asked first, clearly confused.
"That means that you're gonna have twins."
You nearly passed out while you gasped loudly.
"What?! Two of them?"
George only chuckled, kissing your forehead, nuzzling his nose to your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.
"Guess we were pretty thorough with our trying." he whispered with teasing tone in his voice.
#f1 x reader#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#george russell#fiction#formula 1#george russell x reader#gr63 x you#gr63 x reader#gr63 fic#gr63#george russell x you#george russell oneshot#george russel imagine#george russel x reader#george russell imagine#george russell x female reader#f1 x female reader#x reader#my fic#endometriosis#sadnees#formula one#mercedes amg f1
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@dreamyluigi (I apologize in advance for any mistakes, I'm not well versed in the Paper Mario games)
TW: Blood, mention of suic*de, character death (be sure to read to the end!)
"Ugh..." Mr. L hissed again, clutching at his head. The figure in red before him blurred. "What is th-this?" "Weege?" Mario reached out, recognizing the signs of a severe migraine. "C'mon, lil bro, you gotta rest." "Don't tell me what to do!" L snapped. He groaned again, stumbling backwards.
A room in a little house. A warm, inviting bed draped in green blankets. Sleep. He just wanted to lay down. The bed beside him, the red one. It was empty.
Again.
He fell to his knees, clutching his head in sheer agony. Unable to take it he ripped off his hat and mask, the fabric felt suffocating. He looked up, his steel grey eyes glimmering with a mixture of fear and hatred. "Wh-What did you do to me?!" he cried out, doubling over. Words flooded his mind's eye, memories.
He was there. Always there. Since they were kids that constant safety had always been there. Whenever he needed his brother he would just call and he was right there. Then he became a hero. Then their world changed. Their lives, changed. "I'm sorry Weege, but maybe you should stay home this time." "It's okay Weege, I got this, you can stay here." "Heh, Mario left him behind again," a toad at the marketplace said to another, thinking they were out of earshot. "Bet it's because he's useless." He woke from a nightmare with his brother's name screamed out into the night. Yet no reply. He was alone, the one who claimed he would always be there was gone, risking his life for others. Leaving him feeling forgotten. It hurts. It hurts! IT HURTS!
Mario went to step towards the now trembling figure only to freeze at the low voice. "You left me." It wasn't the harsh condescending tone Mr. L had been using. It was that rusty, soft voice. A voice that normally would have made the older twin's heart sing. And yet something this time sent an icy chill through him. "Weege?" "You always leave me." Two voices chorused from the one man. "You said you'd always be there. You lied." He looked up and Mario couldn't help but take a step back. It was like a scene from a horror movie. His brother's face split in two emotions, one grey eye filled with hatred, the other a sapphire blue filled with pain as tears streamed down his face. When he spoke, Mario again heard two voices. "You always leave me." a shuddering sob as Luigi/L stood, moving like a drunken ragdoll. "They tease, they taunt, you never hear it." He lurched forward only to fall again as the room spun. "So much pain. It hurts... Mario, it hurts." "Luigi, I never meant...!" Mario jerked back as Mr. L snarled, lunging at him before falling again. "You're never there! You've dedicated yourself to everyone except me!" Mr. L howled before collapsing, writhing as he clutched at his head. Gasping he looked up, both eyes wild with inner conflict. "Heh. Hehe." the laugh was cold, vacant. "You have no idea, d-do you?" he spoke in just L's voice. "He's screaming inside right now, screaming over what you've done." His hand slid down to his left leg, the hidden weapon Count Bleck had gifted him gliding neatly from it's sheath. Mario felt sick when he saw the glint of the dagger. He held his hands up, taking a cautious step forward. "Weege..." "Don't call me that!" Mr. L slashed out, forcing Mario back. "Y-You, that name is a spell, isn't it? It does something to my head! MAKE IT STOP!" he was gasping now, his eyes flashing a mix of dull silver and sparkling blue. Mr. L paused as if listening to something. To someone. If cruelty itself became human and could grin, it would wear the smile that briefly danced over L's features.
Continued in pt 2 here.
a brief moment of clarity
#super mario bros#super paper mario#smb#luigi#mr. L#bring on the angst#triggering content#self harm warning#tw blood
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Little Climbing Champ!
A little Gift for @n1daehodefender and her work that inspired me to write this little Post. I totally love the Idea of the Squid Game Boys with their Babys and like to give you this Gift <3 - Check out her Storys, her writing is so good!
Summary: You wake up extra early on a Sunday morning and try to climb out of your bed with one goal - to steal your Appa's watch because it has caught your interest.
TW: Nothing except Cuteness and fatherly Love from Kang dae-ho, Nam-gyu & Thanos - as well as hints of nightmares based on the experiences in the Squid Games.
Characters: Kang dae-ho, Nam-gyu, Thanos
★★★Thanos★★★
You wake up a little tired and realize with a sleepy look that it wasn't even light yet…the small gap in the curtains on the window didn't let any sunlight through…but…if it was still bedtime and your mommy and your appa were still asleep…maybe you could try something really exciting and awesome?
With a quiet yawn, you kick the blanket off you and crawl closer to the bars of your bed.
You've already tried several times to climb over the edge of the crib because… it was so exciting and great (plus you wanted a little extra cuddle time with your Appa, you've been in your Appa only phase for a few days… which Thanos finds quite amusing, after all he is THE LEGEND - of course it was really cool that as your Appa he was much higher up in your eyes than your mommy) and you really want to take a closer look at that great watch, that your father is wearing… it's so sparkling and great and you want to have it.
Sometimes Thanos says the watch is off limits for you… whatever that means? You don't know but… if your parents are still asleep, they certainly won't notice that you're trying to sneak into the parents' bedroom.
Exactly! You would steal Appa's beautiful watch and just keep it… then it would no longer be Appa's watch but yours....your Watch.
Determined, you stand up and try to climb over the edge of the bed. It takes several attempts , before you can lift your right leg and then your left leg over it.
(When you tried a few days ago, either your mother or father caught you half-heartedly and either lifted you out of bed themselves and sat you on the large, soft play rug in the room, or you were placed on your parent's hip and your climbing ideas were doomed to failure.) Climbing over it was easy… landing on the rug… less so.
You land on your diapered, padded bottom and luckily the start wasn't too painful for you.
And luckily for you, the door to your room was only ajar.
It wasn't uncommon for you to wake up in the night and call for your parents - in the last few days, more often for Thanos, of course - but this time you use the ajar door , to walk clumsily down the dark hallway towards your parents' bedroom.
This door was also ajar and you pushed it open a little further.
It was dark and both Mommy and Appa seemed to still be asleep….okay….where did Appa have his watch….does he sleep with it on his arm, like you sometimes need your favorite stuffed animal to fall asleep?
"Kid what are you....how......wait is that my Watch?"
You giggle once and press the watch closer to your cheek, not really planning on giving it back to your Appa…but of course you wanted to tell him what great things you had accomplished…no matter how late or early it was.
"Appa! Me....climbed out ... baby bed! ALONE!"
It took a moment for Thanos to realize the words and a tired, broad grin on his lips before he playfully reached for you and pulled you into a loving hug.
"WOW, that's so cool! My little climbing champ! And at 4:44 in the morning! Appa is proud of you! And as a reward, you can continue sleeping in Appa and Mommy's bed… if you give me my watch back, hm?" - Thanos praised this night climbing action… and that was a much better reward than keeping the watch.
So you nod enthusiastically and voluntarily give him the watch back.
A few minutes later, you are lying between your Mommy and your Appa and quickly fall asleep again.
Thanos covers you and his partner with the blanket a little more carefully , before he also returns to dreamland with a happy smile.
★★★Kang dae-ho★★★
"Appa? Wakey-Wakey?"
You carefully support yourself on the edge of the mattress and try to check whether your father is still awake.
It was difficult to climb out of your bed… you somehow hurt yourself and actually wanted to call out loudly for your parents, but actually you also wanted to play with the watch, that your father accidentally left on the changing table in your room and… somehow everything ended in chaos… which is why you are now standing in your parents' bedroom and trying to wake up the sleeping Dae-ho.
Because somehow… when you tried to push the small chair that sometimes stands at the even smaller table in your room… closer to the changing table in order to get the watch… the chair somehow crashed into the small lamp and it broke… you still don't have the watch and Appa has to help you now! Very, very urgently.
You hear a rustling on your mommy's side of the bed and she struggles out of bed to pick you up a few moments later.
"Appa was really tired, baby… can we be a bit quieter?", your mommy whispers in your ear… but you see it as a game and clap your hands enthusiastically, only to shout a loud OKAY into the room and thus wake up your Appa, who… sits upright in bed, startled, and looks from you to his partner.
"What happened? Oh my God, is our baby sick? Was she crying and I overslept? Are you sick, darling? Is it already morning? What time is it? 4:44? oooh…", - came the confused reply from the former player of the brutal Squid Games.
Of course, his first concern was for your safety and that of his partner…and somehow he seems like a sleepy Labrador puppy to a person in the middle of the night.
"Climbed out baby bed…fell…little ouchie but kay kay….Appa Watch on changing table….lamp broken…..Appa fix it? Me wanna play with Appa Watch please!"
There was a moment of silence before your parents' amused laughter echoed through the bedroom, and your Appa dragged himself tiredly out of bed to check whether you had hurt yourself during your climbing.
Your parents cleaned up the night's chaos and Appa read you a little bedtime story, albeit in a tired voice… but with a fatherly, loving glow in his eyes, which made you forget about your beautiful watch and you quickly fell asleep again.
Without any more climbing… of course you didn't notice the slightly proud smile on your father's lips as he put the book aside… and was proud of this… could you call it a new milestone in his baby's life?
★★★ Nam-gyu★★★
"Woah woah…what do you think you're doing?"
It was the middle of the night and the voice of your Appa made you pause for a moment…actually you wanted to climb over the edge of your crib in a death-defying manner because you wanted to secretly steal that amazing clock from your parents' bedroom…but your climbing attempts were discovered because…Appa suddenly stood in the brightly lit room and there was a mixture of surprise in his voice.
"Appa! Help!" - you say tearfully, hanging half with one leg over the top edge of the bed and the other half on the other side, threatening to slide off.
"If you're tired of life, baby, I'd rather see this situation.... if you ever meet that crazy salesman on the subway…run Kid.....run", you hear your father mutter and he picks you up in a routine and fatherly gesture.
You look at him with big, pleading eyes and pat the right cheek of the… somewhat tired-looking Nam-Gyu lovingly.
"Wanna Appas Watch....pretty...", you said and cuddeld closer to your Father.
"Ah i get it, so that´s why you start this climbing adventure....sorry I promised to be the best Appa ever for you....no Watch"
"Pwetty please Appa!", you said and whinned once.
"How about this, instead of more climbing stuff this fu....very early night like we have 04:44 a.m.....i sneak you into our Room and you can fall asleep with Mommy and Appa for now?", - your Father said in a soft voice while giving you an calming kiss on the hair.
"Teddy too?", you asked and pointed towards your Crib where a Teddybear was sitting.
"Sure, what kind of an good Appa would i be, if the Teddy is left behind?", said Nam-Gyu and grabbed the stuffed Animal to give it to you.
Only a few Moment later, you were placed in the king sized double Bed next to your sleeping Mommy, while your Father wished you a good night and hummed a soft lullaby, which quickly made you fall asleep.
THE END
#squid game season 2 spoilers#squid game x you#squid game x reader#cute toddler#toddler pov#writing for fun#gift#inspired by#nam gyu#thanos#thanos squid game#Kang dae-ho#player 388#player 230#player 124#married couple#aftermath#squid games#nightmares#trust#established relationship#night time#sunday morning#parenting#toddler#children#living together#family#found family
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are: Rust and EDC, on rewatching, I noticed that 2012 Rust uses Crash’s wallet chain, and possibly the same style of work boots (trying to trace the brand on these rn lol). I always thought the chain was interesting bc it’s the only super recognizable Crash thing that seems to carry over.
Sorry, anon. I forgot about this and then I didn't forget about this and then I read too much about it and then I concluded that I had nothing to add because you got it all in the ask--it is (apparently) the only visual cue Rust retains from Crash, and it is a Crash cue.
And that will be obvious to some of you--but it was not obvious to me, a person who arguably has "special interest: men" and "special interest: masculine accessories" written down on her character sheet somewhere, probably under a headline that says "penalties to charisma." Why was this not obvious to me? Why did I react with derision, when first faced with Rust looking all hot with his wallet chain on?
I refer you to this Vogue article from 2016, which (inaccurately) states that wallet chains are (were) back and also (inaccurately) states:
Blame the resurgence of the wallet chain on Vetements: For Fall 2016, the label gave the accessory a cheeky mall-goth makeover
To me, the wallet chain has always been a mall goth staple. But that is because my toxic trait is that I truly, truly believe that if I had been born in a slightly earlier time, I would have been so good at being an authentic 90s goth at the club.
(It pains me, it pains me to think of how Crash era Rust could so plausibly be at the (goth) club. Like, Rust wouldn't be, is the problem. But he could have been, so easily, and the overlap between biker scene and leather scene and goth has always been significant.)
(Crash era club setting BDSM fic set to Nine Inch Nails WHEN)
But reading anything in Vogue always reminds me that I, personally, might be full of shit, given that my frame of reference is such a thin slice of humanity, so I set out to answer the question of: do bikers actually wear wallet chains?
To do this, I did what anyone concerned with journalistic integrity and not leaving her own house would do: I read old forum posts from the early 2000s. And here I learned that it's not a wallet chain, in the parlance, but a biker wallet, and really the biker wallet is originally a trucker (as in semis) wallet.
The go to joke, on some slightly less old forums, seems to be that these days, the biker wallet / wallet chain is mostly good for scratching up your paint job.
however.
It seems that back in the day, the wallet chain was in fact an essential piece of kit. Why? Wallet in back pocket, bumpy rides, long roads--apparently losing your wallet because it jostled out of your jeans is a real thing that really happened. The difference seems to be that between now and then, suspensions (i think is the term?) got better and in general, rides are smoother, so it's less of a risk.
I assume there's also the issue of--once the look is diluted enough by people the initial core group thinks of as posers, the object that was formerly a reliable marker of in-group, now useless, becomes uncool.
So anyway, that's some general thoughts on wallet chains. But back to Rust, specifically.
he's so busted and hot here. dishabille. where was I.
We can conclude that the wallet chain, in the 90s, is a pragmatic choice, like almost everything is, where Rust is concerned. We never see Crash riding but we assume, right, that he didn't spend four years infiltrating a biker gang to never be on a dang bike. Period accurate suspensions were apparently shit, and presumably losing your state issued fake ID is a pain in the ass while working UC, so the wallet chain is practical.
So why is 2012 Rust, who drives a pick up, wearing it?
For the same reason he's wearing the same watch for the whole series, I think. It works.
Or is it a hint of some attachment to identity? This is only on my mind due to recent discussions in my DMs, but the idea is tantalizing. What if he likes the wallet chain, just a teensy bit? That seems good or healthy, maybe, that he's got some scrap of preference and attachment going on there.
Or maybe he doesn't, and it's just another way 2012 Rust comes across as frozen in time, like most of those ten years are lost time. Not rugged practicality, not if it ain't broke, don't fix it, but a secret third thing: a resigned it is what it is, the smallest unit of self fulfilling prophecy that time is a flat circle or nothing changes and therefore nothing matters.
Or maybe it's that there ain't much of a difference between Crash and Rust at the end of the day, which is my humbly presented thesis in this half finished fan fic I promise I haven't forgotten about.
re: the boots. I think I have a source on the exact boots, once again due to the insane guys over on reddit. I'll comb through my bookmarks and see if I find it and I will report back...eventually. And then I think I might as well post about the knife and the zippo because the knife, at least, is funny to me and very Rust. Also I need to tag these, I guess?
Rust EDC posts so far:
the ledger // the watch
#true detective#rust cohle#rusty edc#anon#bonus theory for why 2012 rust is wearing a wallet chain:#so he has an easy handle to be yanked around by#guards!! sexualize that man!
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Hero, Villain God 55
(Prev) (Next) (First)
*Grian's pov*
You sigh in relief, that was close... too close, you almost had to think about some of the stuff you really don't want to aknowledge.... Hopefully Joel doesn't get funny ideas from that.
Sure, you might have gotten a slight bit attached to one mortal...or two...but it's just more fun this way! Yes! Nothing more to it. Nothing at all... And well you don't need to justify yourself to him anyway! Who is he to question you? ... Outside of like being the literal sky.
You are digging your metaphorical hole deeper at this point.
...
ANYWAY, It's time to go back to your vessel now, It's been a long enough time that it shouldn't be too weird for you to wake up... Well it might still be but at this point you are too bored to care.
You just give it a bit of a push and you open your eyes.
Ugh, It's way too bright in here and now that you are back inside the body the pain has somewhat returned, going to have to fix that at one point tll. You never understood why humans were made to be so fleshy and weak and sickly in the first place...
You push yourself up on the medical bef, the muscle mass in the arms is mostly intact with minimal athropy luckily, the legs are pretty much the same so not an horrible state by mortal standards at least... The door to the room opens, It's a nurse... She seems shocked to see you awake, she quickly dashes to your bedside to check on some monitors near you...then after a few minutes of questions that you really didn't care about she nods and leaves to make a call...
Soon after Cub burst trough the door, covered from head to toe in water.
"Grian? I was told you were up."
"That I am ..."
You should probably be asking questions right, they think you have been unconcious for the last week or so.
"... What happened? The uh nurse that found me when I woke up didn't explain much."
There! Perfect! Now he thinks you are clueless and your divinity is once more kept secret, good job you!
"You ...got shot protecting Hotguy from a sniper"
"And how long was I...?"
"Oh just... A bit more less then two weeks"
"Hmm."
...
The silence that follows is akward, you just want to get this over with so you can leave and the two of you barely know eachother... You really want to ask about what the associations current plans are for you but you can't just ask that, you already made Cub suspicious with the blood samples way before everything went down...
...Ok maybe you can phrase it in a non-suspicious way, It's a better option then laying on the bed for who knows how long.
"So... What now?"
"Uh?"
"Can I like ...leave now?" That should sound earnest enough hopefully.
"What?"
Cub is not the expressive type, you have gathered that from the little you have seen of him. This is not an exception, he just tilts his head before giggling a bit, you really can't tell if It's genuine or not.
"Grian, you just woke up from a coma you- you can't just...you can't just get up and leave."
"Oh..."
Well then, you messed it up, he's -
"Where would you even get that idea? Is that something you have done before? Wake up from a possibly life ending injury and just leave?"
There is a right answer is. . . You don't know what that is, you have no clue what he wants you to say. So you do a bit of gambling.
"Yes yes, many times, all the time"
His smile falters a bit, this somehow feels more like genuine confusion or thought...he just looks at you, did you say the wrong thing? You should have just done the mind reading trick... No, you gave yourself a challenge, if you just used all your powers this wouldn't be any fun anymore.
...
He doesn't even say anything else he just keeps looking, you tilt your head a bit and it seems to bring him back.
"Right... Well, I'll be speaking with the medical staff then."
"Sure."
He slowly gets up and after a few seconds goes to open the door and leave... He stops just as he reaches for the door.
"And Grian?"
"Yeah?"
"Scar is worried, should -"
"Tell him to come by."
"Alright"
And like that he's gone.
*End of Chapter 10*
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Somebody That He Used To Know
Analyzing a little more on Post-Amnesia Shadow coming to face with his past.
Honestly, while Dark Beginnings did a great job showing us of the relationship between Shadow and Maria, Generations showed us what Shadow meant to Maria.
Not what Maria meant to Shadow, because this Shadow isn't her Shadow. He's different. Whatever fully happened on the ARK is lost.
And while, Maria cares for him regardless of what he can become. She knows something is wrong. She knows she hasn't seen him in a long time. She knows he's gone through things, she could only imagine.
This Shadow, has recovered from amnesia post-dying post-brainwashing, he only knows of Maria in certain aspects. He's never actually met her. It's kinda similar to his Pre-Genesis Archie counterpart, who never met her but knows of her and knows the pain of losing her. He knows so much about her because of how much her death has impacted his life. He doesn't really know why she cared for him, only that she did.
To Shadow, seeing both Gerald and Maria brings up things that he knows happened it's just that he doesn't recall them happening. He saved Maria, not because she was Maria, but because it was someone in danger.
A lot of what he does in the game with Maria is trying to reason with her. Especially with Maria's wish, because that is literately all he knows about her other than a few things here and there.
There hasn't been any confirmation that all of his memories have returned. Dark Beginnings, shows that he remembers part of things, especially closer to the ARK Incident. Even then, his memories are used more as a taunting devices from Black Doom than anything else most of the time.
I also still think he feels guilty about he death. He remembers most of his strong emotions, such feeling inadequate of failing at being her cure, her sacrifice to save him, or just the fact that he knew he wasn't going to fit in. Which he also still questions at the end of the Dark Beginnings because that is the only thing that is still relevant to his life.
At the end of the day, the ARK incident doesn't matter. He can't go back and fix it. Even Gerald tells him to not tamper the time stream. I think the reason why the "Let Me Save Gerald and Maria" story idea got dropped is because he has little to no idea who these people are or were to him now. At the beginnings he knows he should precent thier deaths, but at the same time he's busy. He learns more about them, more about his purpose and who they were. Because Gerald and Maria don't know him anymore and he doesn't know them that much either.
And that's why he cries again at the end of the game, because for the first time in a long time, his heart and his mind make sense. He finally understands why this hurt him as much as it did back then. He finally realizes why Gerald wanted to destroy the world and he seemed fine with it until he wasn't.
Shadow also seemed to understand why Maria seemed more important than Gerald in his mind. She stood by him and supported him to do better. Maria coddled Shadow. She was the supporting words that would guide him to be who needed to be. Unlike Gerald who kinda just let him do what he wanted. Gerald had the belief that Shadow would do the right thing, he's a scientist who believes in his work. For Maria, this is her first time understanding that people would grow and they would be something you can't control. Shadow is his own person at the end of the day, not something you plan out methodically. It was all experimental.
Shadow has always wanted them back for some odd reason he tends to bury. He just finally understood why and couldn't bear it.
“That which inspires us to our greatest good is also the cause of our greatest evil.” - Viktor, Arcane
#shadow the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#maria robotnik#ark family#shadow and maria#gerald’s journal#gerald robotnik#sonic x shadow generations
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Distance is pain
(x)
Logan had always been used to being distant the X-Men never seemed to care maybe even appreciate the distance he kept from them. Sure there were a few exceptions but for the most part, people preferred to have him at a distance.
However, for the first time in his life, this was not the case anymore. Wade always wanted him near and within reach. It freaked Logan out, to be honest, and he wasn't sure how to deal with this. He kept trying to keep a distance between them because surely this was what Wade actually wanted.
He kept doing this and kept doing this every time Wade expressed a desire for him to be and stay close be that physically or emotionally. This didn't work if course because if Logan did this Wade would run off and push him away. Wade thought he wanted this but he didn't no one really did.
Or at least he thought that until Wade started backing off and reseeding into himself. He seemed...smaller... So unlike what Logan had gotten used to. It felt wrong oh so wrong. Wade stopped speaking to him as much and it was affecting Logan more than he thought it would. The whispers in the back of his head telling him how much of a monster he was were back.
It was horrible and he didn't know why. Or he didn't until one day when he had come back from walking Mary to the sight of Wade on the couch. He was picking at his skin and muttering to himself and if it wasn't for Logan's enhanced hearing he wouldn't have heard any of it.
"You fucking idiot of course he doesn't want to be around you why would anyone? You never shut up or leave people alone." A shaky inhale, "You have been shown again and again when you be yourself you run people off. You're too much you know you're too much and yet you don't stop." He took another shaky inhale and scrubbed his hands over his eyes.
"Fucking pathetic you get the most perfect man in the damn multiverse and you can't reign yourself in enough to not run him off. He keeps pulling away and you can't accept it even though this is the same damn thing that happens every fucking time you try and get close to anyone." A wet inhale this time and Logan's heart fucking sinks.
He hadn't meant for this to happen he hadn't wanted to hurt Wade, hell he was pulling away so he wouldn't run Wade off. Fuck both of them apparently because they both wanted the exact same thing and were going about it opposite ways.
"Wade." Logan said softly and Wade fucking jumped eyes going wide as he desperately tried to downplay what Logan had just seen. "h-hey peanut I didn't realize you would be back so soon." Wade said as he jumped up off the couch and started backing away. Logan hated himself fervently for causing this for causing any pain to this man.
"Wade fuck I'm sorry I had no idea." Logan tried to apologize but Wade was shaking his head, "No no apologies peanut it's me it's...always me. I run everyone off every time." The last part is choked out and Logan can't allow that. Wade doesn't have a chance to run off before Logan grabs him and crushes the bigger man to his chest.
Wade freezes and starts to try to scramble away before stopping as he begins to shake lightly. "Wade I didn't mean to make you feel like I didn't care or was trying to get you to leave me alone." Logan spoke seriously. Wade sagged into him and buried his face in the older man's neck.
"Wade my whole life people have preferred me at a distance I thought I was doing you a favor by staying away." Logan continued as he held the other man tighter. "I didn't want to run you off by getting too close. Wade we have had opposite experiences and and were acting according to prevent the same outcome we always end up with."
Wade was hugging him back and holding him just as tightly now. "Why would anyone want to push you away? You're perfect." Wade asked and Logan shook his head lightly, "Why would anyone not want you close? You're amazing." Logan shot back.
Wade blinked tears out of his eyes as he pulled back to make eye contact with Logan. "Promise you won't push me away again?" Wade asked voice shakey and unsure. "As long as you promise not to leave me alone." Logan agreed.
It was the easiest compromise either man had ever made.
#deadclaws#deadclaw#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool 3#deadpool#deadpool x wolverine#wade wilson#wade x logan#logan howlett#wolverine#poolverine#resi's shorts
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