#I was shooting for to old of an age because“you want to be turned in your prime”
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Daniel being a vampire at an older age is so everything to me I need every single vampire to be in love with him and be obsessed with him and to be straight up GREEN with envy over it. I want these vampires to be immensely jealous over him being turned at 70 I want all these young little 20-30 year old vampires to be frothing at the mouth over old man Daniel I need him to be the bell of the ball and I need him to know it <3
#flashback to being younger and having a conversation over when would be best to be turned into a vampire and everyone thinking#I was shooting for to old of an age because“you want to be turned in your prime”#and when is that exactly???? huuhh????#if there is anyyy shame over him being an old vampire in the next season I'm going to be so mad#sooooooo many thoughts on Old man Daniel<333#when Eric talked about the fetishization of youth and vampirism I was really like 😭🤪🥴😵💫#iwtv#interview with the vampire#daniel molloy
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a/n. second time writing from bkg's perspective. this was so fun! (1.1k)
the moment that cemented bakugou’s resolve to marry you wasn’t exactly grand.
it wasn’t your first kiss.
or the first time you made love to each other.
not even the first time you met his nerd-ass friends or his (slightly) overbearing parents. although those two come as close runner-ups.
no, it was rather a random saturday morning after you spent a night at his place, now clad in what he thinks is nothing but your intimates and a burnt orange t-shirt of his that drapes loosely over your frame.
and as he enters the kitchen and closes the distance between the two of you with a few strides, he can’t help but wonder what you’re doing—deeply focused on your laptop—when you’re probably the one who’s extra pedantic about not bringing work home.
“morning,” he grunts, leaning down to kiss your cheek, which you happily accept. although, to his chagrin, your eyes remain on your computer screen, not even sparing him a single glance.
he knows it’s fucking embarrassing, how strongly you elicit feelings within him without you even fucking trying, but he can’t stop the frown that takes over his face even if he attempted to fight it.
shaking off the irrational disappointment from not even being ignored, he rounds the kitchen island and starts brewing the two of you coffee.
“by the way,” he starts, glancing at you over his shoulder, “the old hag’s birthday is coming up. she wants to have dinner with just the four of us, or some shit.”
“i know,” you simply pipe up from where you’re seated on one of his fancy bar stools, gaze still glued on whatever the fuck it is that’s keeping your attention from him.
he turns to you, a manual coffee grinder in tow. “you do?”
at that, you finally look up at him, an innocent expression etched across your features. “you don’t remember? i asked you when your parents’ birthdays were way back in march.”
way back in march.
back when you unanimously decided to decisively end the dating phase and become boyfriend-girlfriend.
“yeah?” is the only thing he manages to get out.
you let out a soft laugh that’s nothing but music to his ears. “yeah, dummy.”
before you can get to see the red that’s most definitely creeping up to his cheeks, bakugou turns his back against you, returning to busying himself with crushing the beans into fine powder and pouring lukewarm water into the machine.
only a few months before reaching a full year together, and you still manage to make him fucking blush.
over the most mundane things, too.
when he first got into his very first relationship with you at the ripe age of 28, he thought he’d outgrown and was way past the embarrassing shit that the human body was capable of when dealing with anything remotely close to romance.
it didn’t take him long enough into your relationship to find out he was so, so wrong.
sighing, he pours out the cup of ground beans onto the filter, finally pressing the button and bringing the coffee maker to life.
you must be done with what’s highly likely is work by now.
but chancing a glance at you, he’s once again met with palpable disappointment when the very same sight greets him.
before he can rein them in, the words come tumbling out of his lips.
“the fuck is so important on that laptop?”
his booming voice must’ve caught you off guard, because you startle ever so minutely in your seat.
“sorry,” he quickly adds on, albeit through a mutter; frustration with himself and his inability to modulate his voice added to the increasingly long list of emotions he’s having to fucking deal with right now.
waving him off, you shoot him another one of that disarming smile of yours. “‘s funny that you ask. i was just about to ask you for your opinion.”
with that, you gesture him to come close with your fingers. curious, he once again rounds the island, ultimately occupying the spot to your right and leaning down to peer at the small text on your screen.
before he can even get a word in, you hurriedly explain yourself. “mitsuki-san mentioned her personal sewing machine broke, so i’ve been thinking about getting her a new one.”
you point to a sleek, off-white model among what looks to be a vast array of selections, “i researched the specs and i think this one’s the best. what do you think?”
a million things course through his mind in an instant, but what he ends up sputtering out is: “you’re such a fucking nerd, you know that?”
at that, you look up at him, your seemingly perpetually moisturized lips now formed into a playful pout, and it takes everything in him not to just pull you in for a kiss and completely abandon the conversation in its entirety.
but he’d like to think he at least has the slightest bit of self-control.
even if you do wear him the fuck out on a daily basis.
“i just want to make sure it’s perfect!” you argue, shifting to stare at your laptop again and bringing him back to the present. your voice is way smaller when you continue. “…i want her to like me.”
he doesn’t even miss a beat. “she already fucking does, dumbass.”
and she really does.
the morning after bakugou first brought you to meet his parents a whopping two months into calling it official, mitsuki texted him something along the lines of having the family heirloom slash ring already adjusted to fit your finger.
he immediately called the old hag after receiving the message just to reprimand her ear off for being too fucking forward and for meddling too much.
but, if he were to be completely honest with himself, he was angry not because mitsuki was imposing, but because he couldn’t believe his mother beat him to that important realization.
the realization that maybe, just maybe, you’re the one.
and now, as he studies you as you scroll through more and more iterations of the best sewing machines on the market with your eyebrows adorably furrowed in utmost concentration, it dawns on him.
it dawns on him that that maybe just turned into a definitely.
tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon
˖⁺‧₊ this one made me smile like an idiot while writing lmao. as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!
#i do think he'll /know/ pretty early on#given how perceptive and decisive he is re: what he wants#just takes him an extra second given his inexperience with relationships#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagines#mha imagines#bnha imagines#mha scenarios#bnha scenarios#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou imagine#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n
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IdeaDpxDc- The petition
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Nightwing receives a very strange request from a child. Dead On Main (implied)
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It happened on the rooftop of some building, when Nightwing was taken by surprise by the strange request from his brother's boyfriend's younger brother.
"Are you part of the Bats, huh?" the kid asked, crossing his arms and staring intently.
"Yeah," Nightwing replied, smiling with a slight nod. "How can I help you?"
"I need your help. Investigate my brother's boyfriend," he said, frowning.
"What?" Nightwing responded, raising an eyebrow, visibly surprised.
"I'm usually very good at stalking people," he continued, pacing back and forth, "but this guy, Jason, he's really suspicious. He's hiding something, I know it. I tried to follow him to find out what he's hiding, but he caught me!" He stopped and looked at the other with frustration. "He's done it ten times already. No one's caught me that many times! Well, except Danny the idiot, but he doesn't count," he added, waving a hand as if it were a trivial detail. "Danny's too stupid to suspect anything," he said, looking worriedly at the ground. "I can see it in his eyes, love has blinded him." He looked up, with a serious expression. "What if his boyfriend turns out to be a trafficker and wants to steal his organs? Or gets him into drugs? Or is some kind of criminal mastermind?" He sighed, crossing his arms again. "I've noticed his questionable behaviors. I don't trust that guy."
"I see. You're worried about your older brother, you're a sweet kid," Nightwing commented with a smile as he leaned against the edge of the building, looking out over the illuminated city.
"I'm not a kid and I'm not worried! I'm an adult, I'm older than you!" the boy retorted indignantly, crossing his arms.
Nightwing raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh, how old are you?"
"... 30," the young man murmured, avoiding eye contact.
Nightwing chuckled. "You look 12."
The boy frowned, clearly annoyed. "I'm not here to talk about my age. Are you going to do the job or not?" He took a step forward, his tone impatient.
Nightwing raised his hands in surrender. "Haha, okay, okay. What makes you think your brother, Danny, is in danger?" Straightening up, he looked at the young man more seriously, ready to listen.
"He met him on a dating app. That's not weird, but when he introduced me, the guy was huge. Big, and Danny's a twig," the young man started, looking at Nightwing seriously. "I know he's 19, but genetics decided to abandon him." He mocked the boy.
Nightwing raised an eyebrow, curious but still confused. "And that's suspicious because...?"
The boy raised a hand to stop him. "Wait, let me finish." He approached the rooftop's edge, looking out at the city. "The guy not only is huge but also knows how to fight. I threw eggs at him and he dodged every single one. And he beat me in a fight!"
"Pff, you threw eggs at him?" Nightwing asked with a raised eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the idea of seeing Jason covered in eggs. The young man gave him a annoyed look. "Okay, okay, don't get mad. What else do you have to tell me?"
The boy continued firmly: "He also knows how to use weapons. Danny and that guy went to a shooting range for one of their dates. I followed them, and that guy was as good as Danny! Not only that," the boy added, turning to look directly at Nightwing. "I saw him threaten someone once, and he seems to have contacts with Red Hood. No normal person has contacts with a crime lord." Warning, emphasizing the danger it implied.
"Yeah, that says a lot," Nightwing agreed, while in his mind he wondered why Jason had taken Danny to a shooting range. There were better places for a date. "I understand, I'll look into it. What's your name, kid?" He asked, more for appearances' sake.
"Dante Nightingale," he replied. "I'll wait for you here on Thursday at the same time for the report," he ordered. This attitude reminded him so much of Damian; maybe he should introduce them.
"Alright, boss," Nightwing joked, then jumped to another building. Tonight he'd have a lot of material to tease Jason with; his brother-in-law didn't trust him. Haha.
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Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
#dead on main#dp x dc#batpham#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#dcxdp#danny fenton x jason todd#dc x dp crossover#jason todd x danny fenton#i'm using a translator i don't really know english.#i sorry#Dante rejuvenated#Danny is the older brother (19) and Dante is the younger brother (12)#Dante can't use his powers and Danny can courtesy of Clockwork#Danny and Jason are dating#neither of them knows the other's secret identity#although Danny is already retired from vigintalism.#Dante is very suspicious of Jason. Jason wonders why his boyfriend's younger brother doesn't trust him. Dick laughs behind the scenes.#Danny: Is this what Jazz felt when I went after her about her relationship with Johnny?
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LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE
SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!
CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!
SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.
slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.
a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.
aerial shoot, his favorite.
but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.
slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.
he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.
he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.
hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.
looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.
a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.
he was lonely.
despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.
the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.
he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.
the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.
the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.
he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.
he wasn’t happy.
leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.
his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.
so, that left him with one more option.
opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.
pornhub.com
this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.
his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.
he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.
he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.
opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.
it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.
college girl masturbates solo :)
it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.
there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.
the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.
he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.
he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.
leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.
after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.
it was slick, glistening.
his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.
leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.
he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.
it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.
he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.
his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.
his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.
the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.
oh, how he missed it.
as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.
his cock twitched, fuck.
you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.
pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..
you’re pathetic leon.
even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.
he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.
his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.
a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.
his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.
holy fuck.
his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.
leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.
he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.
he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.
looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.
your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?
he sucked in a breath and gulped.
him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.
it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.
but it wasn’t, and he knew that.
sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.
the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.
choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.
he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.
your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.
his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.
it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.
his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.
he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.
he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—
his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.
you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.
not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.
it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.
leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.
running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.
reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.
no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.
he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.
instagram.
leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.
you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.
biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.
you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.
after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.
leon wasn’t sick.
he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.
he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.
sick. you are sick.
leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.
the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.
he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.
at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.
this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.
occasionally, you participated in live streams.
it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.
that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.
in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.
he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.
tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.
‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.
you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.
leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.
get a fucking grip.
your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.
his mouth went dry when you addressed him.
he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.
SKENNEDY001
okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?
slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.
but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?
“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.
leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.
he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.
‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.
his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.
he was obsessed with you.
the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?
the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.
“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.
leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.
you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.
he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.
the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.
luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.
he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.
the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.
not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.
what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.
‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’
leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.
running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.
‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’
he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.
‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’
your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.
‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’
he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.
‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’
oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?
‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.
the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.
leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.
he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.
nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.
≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.
he couldn’t expose himself.
but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.
you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.
he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.
once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.
entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?
he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.
he couldn’t go into this sober.
letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.
‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’
why would he say that?
leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.
after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.
‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’
he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.
leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.
he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.
‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.
he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.
leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.
‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’
‘take your time.’
during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.
he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.
moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.
reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.
he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.
feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.
‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.
he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.
‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.
looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.
‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.
okay, good.
eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.
“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.
taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.
leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.
he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.
why was it so easy to get hard for you?
“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.
leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.
you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.
leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.
“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.
a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.
leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.
humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.
you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.
“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.
you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.
so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.
“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.
leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.
leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.
“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.
turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.
you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.
turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.
leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.
you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.
“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.
you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.
“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.
you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?
a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.
reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.
his camera turned on and he had no idea.
you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.
he was hot.
like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.
this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.
you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.
he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.
“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.
leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.
he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.
leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.
your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.
this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.
only him.
“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.
your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.
leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?
this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.
leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.
a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?
you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.
leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.
but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.
“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.
leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.
he was so cute.
“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.
each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.
you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.
he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.
“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.
leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.
“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.
you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.
this was so hot.
leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.
the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.
while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.
leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.
panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.
“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.
your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.
rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.
biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.
he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.
if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.
by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.
“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.
leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.
it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.
your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.
god.
leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.
this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.
watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.
metaphorically, of course.
you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.
he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.
he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.
slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.
your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.
squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.
eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.
“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.
looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.
plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.
“so, tell me more about you, leon.”
≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.
the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.
he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.
he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.
he missed you.
reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.
hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.
it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.
the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.
it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.
had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.
taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.
‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’
╰ TAGS: @gor3-hound @rigorwhoring @nilpill @ottermarbles @argreion @angelstargel @lysa1201-saucy @dilfsmaid @sweets3rial @doja-rat16 @bababsthings @frillyyyy @nyxxoxo @admirxation @gcldtom @ashrillvenheim @seraphicsuicides @altissia-09 @ghostier0t @biohazard-4ever @leonsgirl-111 @th3lma @squazmine @dakotali @neverg0nnagivey0uup @brblnc @emodanoriddler @v1ccc @dear-satan @skydisneylover @calansic @acidaciruela @vkurtmien @shiawaseorii @fxnfandxmmp4 @valentin78pon @antagonize-me-motherfucker
#( 𝑣𝑚𝑝. ) 𝑔𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑐 、、#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#resident evil#leon vendetta#resident evil x you#resident evil x reader#x reader#resident evil smut
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ME AGAIN!!! WITH A SAL X READER REQUEST (again) THIS TIME AIDJSJDH. a porn one at that !!!!
i need sal so bad its an actual problem
just like. imagine reader n the gang r havin a little sleepover. and reader is just so inconsolably turned on for some reason (maybe sal had his hand on their thigh when they watched a movie or smthin), so when everyone is asleep they asks sal to help them out :,,,) (his fingers r just so long n pretty,, they cant help but want them lol)
mayb he has to keep them quiet somehow, mayb covers their mouth/puts his fingers in their mouth to muffle them
hes so shy and nervous and awkward but he’s having the time of his life, watching the reader’s reactions. mayb he cant help but get himself off too, too enraptured by the way reader struggles to gasp and whine against his fingers
GOD DAMN.
would love if u wrote this mootie 🫶🏼🫶🏼 no pressure ofc ofc ofc !! (fem bodied reader pls if u dont mind <3!)
(i might write this too, i love my mind sometimes 🙏)
hey mootie!! Im giving you the fast pass because all the jjk stuff you repost got me into the series and I’m loving it, also cus you’re AMAZING! All characters are aged 20+ because this is based in chapter five of course, please do enjoy! :) (and for everyone waiting for their Hazbin requests to be filled - IT IS COMING! I am a busy woman.)
Needy - Sal Fisher X Fem!Reader
words : 2k, warnings : SPICAYYYY!!, creampie, fingering, slightly public, needy!sal AND needy!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys, c’mon), hold the moan trope
The entire gang had been having more sleepovers ever since Sal and Todd had found the new house. Larry was moving in so it was just the normal next step, and you loved coming over so much. More specifically to spend time with your boyfriend, but also just to feel like old times again. Even Ash came from the city every once and a while, and this was one of those days.
Since it was Larry’s last day living in the Apartments, you had all agreed to made the most out of that small basement apartment you had spent so much of your awkward teen years in. You had been doing all the same shit you used to all day - smoking in the treehouse, playing card games for hours.
You and Sal huddled up around his old gamebuddy, playing the games Larry had kept long forgotten in the corners of his room, Larry and Ash painting on a shared canvas, chatting about life while Larry’s old metal mixtapes blasted in the background, and Todd and Neil cuddled up on the beanbag in the corner, occasionally joining in their conversation, but mostly just cuddled up and enjoying each others company. All of this was wonderful, nostalgic - even healing.
That was all up until Sal quietly suggested you all watched an old horror movie, and you were all huddled together in the dark, you with Sal leaning on your shoulder on your right, and Ash on your left, giggling and nudging you like old times. Larry laid out casually on the floor in front of you all because of how shit his eyes were from years of refusing glasses. Which should’ve been fine.
In fact - it was fine. Until Sal decided it would be a wonderful idea to put his hand on your thigh. Your bare thigh, just below where your miniskirt started. And even that - even that, you could’ve survived with some unwanted heat in your panties. But no, the blue fucker jumped at one of the scenes, hand sliding up the inside of your thigh to accidentally drag your skirt up, his hand knocking against your warm core - hand rubbing up against your clothed clit as he pulled his hand away, and all you could do was pull your hand away from where it was sweetly brushing through Ashley’s hair like you used to do, straight to your face to hide the unbelievably needy whine you would’ve let out.
“you okay?” Ashley whispers softly, looking over to you and you just nod quickly, watching her go back to watching the movie before shooting Sal a venomous glance, which he avoids nervously, already feeling your stare of death shoot through the side of his head. You pierced your lips together, putting one leg over the other and squeezing your thighs firmly shut, Sal’s hand now comfortably resting much, much lower on your thigh. Practically on your calve, as he preferred not to die tonight.
But that’s when it started, the unwanted slick already gently collecting in your panties, your mind running through all the things you wanted to do to him - what you wanted him to do to you. God, your mind was like a dog in heat. You couldn’t even bear to focus on the movie, sitting there, cautiously eyeing up your dead silent boyfriend. His shirt ridden up his stomach just oh-so-slightly from the way he was slouched back, soft happy trail of blue peeking out from under his shirt. God, what you would do to pull those stupid red torn up jeans down - not even fully - and ride him until he was shooting blanks and sobbing under you.
That is how it went on for the rest of the movie. That is exactly how it went on when you all decided the sleeping plan. That is where your mind still was when you and Sal decided to take the pullout couch, Todd and Neil in Lisa’s old room, and Larry sleeping on his bed with Ashley on a cot on his floor. With the thinnest fucking walls known to man kind. You should know - you grew up with the same ones.
Sal yawned as he laid next to you, mask placed softly on the table right beside the couch, as well as his glass eye floating in a cup, looking at you nervously as he pulled the covers up over himself too, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him from behind, expecting you to be asleep by now - you were a heavy sleeper, he was an insomniac. It worked out like that. Until he heard a soft, half-whine of a whisper come from you.
“S-sal..” you mumbled softly, pressing yourself back against him, causing him to let out a soft whine of his own, hand around your waist flinching ever so softly. “P-please baby, need you so bad..” you mumbled out softly, turning around to face him, seeing the needy tears in your eyes had him melting as well, piercing his lips together as he grips softly at your side.
“N-no, you know how thin these walls are - I’m sorry about earlier, but..” he says nervously as he watches you whine and writhe softly, pressing yourself up against him, one hand on his chest. That’s when you decide to make the move, grabbing his hand and moving to in-between your legs so he can feel how absolutely soaked through your panties are, causing him to experimentally run his fingers over them, biting down on his scarred lip so hard he’s concerned it might bleed. You can’t help a choked whine and a buck of your hips against his hand at that, looking up at him with those needy eyes. Fuck.
He doesn’t say a word as he puts two shaky fingers to your lips, and you wrap your mouth around them without question, twirling your tongue around them and sucking on them like your life depended on it, all while he shakily pulled you panties to the side, prodding his fingers at your soaked hole, a quiet ‘fuck.’ Escaping his mouth when he slides one in with ease, feeling the vibrations around his fingers as you whine. “G-gotta be quiet, please - we h have to be quiet..” he mumbles out messily as he feels his cock throb to life in his sleep shorts, smearing precum across his thigh when he feels your cunt clench needily around his fingers.
He lets out a sigh of relief when you quickly nod at him, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly starts to curl his long fingers inside of you, the obscene squealing noise making him whimper softly, hips accidentally bucking softly against your thigh as his cock tries to find some sort of friction - daydreaming about how easily he could slip inside you right now with how wet you are - how you would feel around his cock, velvety walks clenching around him and providing him that oh so delicious friction he was searching for.
His thumb moves to gently circle your clit as you start to find a slow grinding rhythm against his hand, practically riding his fingers as he finds that delicious spongy spot on your walls and pushes his fingers up against it, causing your cunt to give another urgent and needy clench, more slick falling into his palm, making a mess as he tries his best not to whine himself.
The slippery sounds of friction, the feeling of your thigh twitching pressed up right against his own throbbing problem, or the way his fingertips are pressing up against the entrance to your throat, the way his other fingertips are pressed up against your velvety walls. It’s driving him beyond insane, to the point he’s thinking he might cum in his sleep shorts if it continues this way. And he didn’t bring an extra pair - and it would just be a waste if he didn’t cum inside of you - not while you were practically begging for it.
“B-baby.” He whines out, catching your attention for a second, tears of pleasure falling softly down your face as your hips still, whining against his hand from the way you stopped while being so close - it was beyond downright embarrassing how quickly you were about to cum, and you were honestly glad he stopped you. “C-can i please put it in? J-just the tip, please baby, ‘s so sensitive. Need you so bad.” He whines quietly and softly, pressing his hard on against your thigh to back up his own statement, whining softly again. “Just wann’ cum inside you, please…” he whispers, watching you nod eagerly.
Pulling his fingers out of you with an obscenely wet pop, pulling your soaked panties to the side and he lets out an erotic sigh pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he pulled his shorts down, cock slapping to attention against his abdomen, precum beading from the sensitive tip as he shakily pulled your hips up, grabbing the base of his cock and gently rubbing it against your entrance, and you could hear how wet you were when he moved his tip to part your drenched lips and drag through them, whining into the crook of your neck as you grabbed his shoulders, brain fuzzy with the way his hot tip felt rubbing against your clit, sticky with your own slick.
He bit down hard on your shoulder as his tip popped past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance, desperately rutting against you, trying not to whine or let slip how good it felt to be inside you - the way your hot, heady slick insides felt like they were trying to pull him in deeper. His hand cupped your mouth quickly, stopping you from making a sound as he gently pushed himself further inside you, feeling you grip tightly at his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he broke his promise, pushing his cock inside of you, inch by desperate inch, trying not to slam his entire cock into you at once - which was unbelievably hard, considering how wet you were, and how desperate he was - his tip prodded at your cervix, making you jerk forward, groaning against the palm of his hand.
He rutted into you desperately, not daring to thrust properly, letting everyone else hear how wet and desperate you were, or even worse, how even needier he was for you, the head of his cock bumping against your sweet spot, the only sound in the air being the quiet sounds of your muffled whines, and the quiet rustling of sheets as he ground into you, abdomen rubbing against your clit as he did so, bringing you to the edge so much faster than you ever expected, cunt clenching around him, the sign that you were about to cum. He just nodded into the nape of your neck, hips refusing to stop.
“m-me too, fuck, me too, me too ‘m gonna cum, ‘s too tight, ‘s so warm.” He half whines, half whispers right into your neck as he detaches his teeth from your shoulder for a second, before hurriedly latching them back onto your neck as you feel his cock violently twitch inside you, whining desperately into his hand as you felt yourself start to cum, cunt clenching around him desperately, slick flooding from you and creating an obscene squelching between you two as you spasmed and arched under him.
He groaned into your neck as he quickly pulled his face from your neck, smashing his lips desperately against yours, muffling his own groans as he pushes himself as deep into you as he can go, cumming hot ropes into you as he stills, thighs twitching as he pulls his mouth from you, both of you panting and catching your breaths, feeling the warm liquid pool out of you and spill onto Sal’s abdomen as he lets out a small and raspy chuckle, still catching his breath.
“You’re going to be the fucking death of me.”
#sal fisher#sally face#sally face x reader#larry johnson#sal fisher x reader#sally fisher#ashley campbell#todd morrison#neil sally face#sal fisher smut#sal fisher x reader smut#JESUS CHRIST!!! WOW!! MY FIRST SMUT!!
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What about princess reader who falls for Konig? He's a retired royal soldier (Bit of an age gap but I was thinking more like he was so good he was able to retire early) that she saw every once and a while and she does the typical "disguise myself as a commoner so i can sneak into town" routine and he pretends he doesn't know but he used to serve her family so ofc he fucking recognizes her
He tries to be gentle with her but honestly she should just be happy he isn't ratting her out to her family 🙄🙄🙄 (not that she minds)
CW: 18+ MDNI. Medieval AU, forbidden love, mutual pining, virgin!princess!reader x veteran!knight!König. Undefined age gap (reader is of legal age which means she’s "old" for an unmarried woman of this period). Reader is kinda coercive, König is implied to be a virgin too. Bittersweet romance vibes, brooding guy/gentle girl trope, ambiguous ending.
Word count: 6.4 k
You never thought you’d have the guts to slap a knight.
Violence is unladylike, and even if you’re a princess, it doesn’t mean you should force your status down someone’s throat like that. Far less his, the man you were taught to respect and listen to because he’s a man, and older than you.
The fact that he was also an anointed knight didn’t seem as important as the simple truth that he possessed a cock between his legs, and it always annoyed you to no end that this was the reason why men ruled the world. As a lady still unwed, you’re supposed to be afraid of cocks, especially if they’re old and gruff.
But you never were afraid in the presence of your father’s most loyal knight. He was your sworn shield too, and the only time he had been away from your side was when he asked to go on a pilgrimage to some chapel nearby. Said he wanted to seek forgiveness for his sins.
A man like him must have a lot to pray forgiveness for, but knowing that he could split a man in half with that greatsword of his doesn’t stop you from sneaking out one night as you follow him outside the castle walls and into the local inn.
Dressed as a stable boy, you watch with wide eyes how he gulps down three pints of beer and doesn’t turn any dumber from it. His speech never slurs, his shoulders never slump, but when some kitchen wench sits down beside him, your breath gets caught in your throat.
You look at the odd couple for a moment or two, watch how your father’s knight, the secret object of your silly daydreams, finally loosens the strings of his purse and offers the girl a copper coin.
It’s more than you can take, so you shoot up from your bench and march to him. The woman looks up at you with lousy disinterest as you ask the man of your dreams if he’d like to have another pint of ale. Your knight recognizes you immediately, even in your too-big tunic and your uncomely hose, even with that dirty felt hat covering your hair.
And he’s mortified, from what you can tell.
Both your eyes are wide now, and the woman beside him is smart enough to leave. She slides herself off the bench and sneaks past your side, and your valiant knight just looks at you, looks at you, looks at you.
You should be worried that he’ll snitch about your adventures to your father, but right now, all you can do is stare at him like he’s the thief, caught fresh and red-handed. Because he is a thief, and a devil, the worst man on earth when he was supposed to be the best. You snort to let him know how much you despise him—for coming here and bedding women for money when he’s supposed to be a sworn, celibate knight—but what truly hurts here is that he’s bedding someone else than you.
When you march out of the inn, he follows you, even dares to lay his hand on you by grabbing your arm outside. That’s when you turn on your heels and deliver a fat slap on his cheek, lightly stubbled and sweet, something you had hoped to plant a kiss on for many, many years.
“Your grace,” He grunts and rubs his chin, slightly amused. “Have I offended you?”
The slap couldn’t hurt that much, and this man never does amused. Even now, the mirth extends only to his eyes, never to his lips.
“You know perfectly well that you have, sir,” you clasp your hands in front of you, now entirely his princess even though you’re dressed like a peasant.
“My lady,” he bows both in body and in voice. “I truly don’t know what crime I have committed.”
You’ve never seen him so… jovial.
Usually this knight looks like there’s a stick up his ass, that someone pissed in his porridge and shat in his stew, that there’s nothing but hailstorms and calamity in his life.
Were you any more clever, you’d leave him be, but God has made it so that you’re drawn to battered and beaten animals. Of course you’re drawn to him too, lonely and spiteful as he is. This man broods so much you sometimes wonder if he’s the reason why it rains so violently up here in the hills. He probably summons dark clouds above the castle with those ponderous frowns alone – but now he’s looking at you as if he just woke up from the dead and walked into the shy sunshine after a long, harsh winter.
“You… You shouldn’t bed women,” you tell him, and he looks at you even more curiously.
“You shouldn’t pay for it,” you mumble next – unladylike, again, especially when your eyes turn to your shoes and away from that hawk-like, calm stare.
There’s a short silence after that, and you almost turn heel and walk back to the castle from the desire to escape the weight of his eyes. Eventually, he shifts his weight to the other leg and clears his throat.
“I sometimes pay for women to hold me. There’s nothing more to it.”
You raise your eyes to meet his, but the mirth is all gone now. It’s replaced by solemn acceptance, some sorrow you never even knew he had. Yes, he’s always silent and looks a bit pissed, but he’s not heartbroken, no, not your brave knight…
“To “hold you”, sir?”
The sorrow is covered with white lashes before you get to the bottom of it. Something tugs at the corner of his mouth—shame and frustration, probably.
“To hold me. Like a mother would. Is that a sin?”
His eyes search for yours from under dark brows, they beg for your consent as if it mattered to him. They’re quite catching, his eyes; enchanting in their intangibility. You know he doesn’t need your acceptance, nor is he threatened by your disgust. He’s unreachable, untouchable, forbidden—a mountain you can never climb because you wouldn't even find it among the mist. And those eyes see everything but feel nothing: they haven’t taken part in the troubles of this world in years.
…
He evades you for the whole of next week.
Leaves the hall if you choose to dine there, walks away when he sees you at the stables, looks through you if you have the courage to address him. You stand watch by the window every night to see if he slips out of the castle, but it seems your knight has lost his interest in kitchen wenches and copper hugs.
It burns like hot broth in your stomach, the thought of him in some other woman’s embrace. This mighty giant of a knight, kneeling in front of a girl, paying for her to simply put her arms around him.
You’re not sure if you’re childish to believe him and his words. To trust that he truly goes to them just to be held. You’re not sure if you’re the worst lover of poor, crippled creatures for not wanting to let him have even that...
Because you wish to hold him yourself, here, in the softest of all beds. Just wrap your arms around him after you’ve unburdened him of that heavy mail and thick gambeson; you’d help him with anything he needs. Let him sigh against you and have those lines of worry on his brooding face smooth somewhat. Maybe sing a soft song for him to help him sleep...
The thought of him being so lonely that he spends his wage on girls just to have a hug is driving you to madness.
It’s tearing you to pieces because he would never, ever have to pay you to hold him.
It’s forbidden, you know: this love you’ve harboured for years. He’s far below your rank, even as a bannerman, he’s far below you even if he’s taller than the tallest war horse in your father’s stables. He’s older than you too, but that’s hardly the biggest problem: your father took his second wife when he was five and thirty and the maid was seventeen. The match was considered perfectly normal, even healthy, but this would not. This would cause an outrage.
Oh yes, you’re to be wed far away to some sadistic young lord if your father has his way. You’re sure they’re already gossiping about it in the streets: how you should’ve been sold like a horse years ago. How is it that you’re still here, burdening the kingdom with your presence and swallowing up coin?
If they only knew that you’ve fought against every match with tooth and nail, the townsfolk would work themselves into a small uprising. And you’re not against marriage because you like it here so much... You’re against it because the knight who dresses himself in black mail and makes the servants piss themselves with his heavy footsteps alone makes your heart flutter like never before.
Your father would kill both of you if he knew.
And you wonder… What would he do? Your pale, brooding knight?
Would he scoff and turn his head away if he knew you dreamed of him before sleep, would he be appalled to hear that you’ve touched yourself to the thoughts of him? Would he think you a whore…?
You dress differently that night, the night you catch him escape the dull horrors of the castle once more. Boredom oozes out of the walls here, a poison of nothingness and despair. The stones won’t offer warmth, not even during the height of spring, so it’s no wonder that your knight is headed elsewhere for warmth and a mug of ale.
You dress accordingly to see what this toughest of knights is made of: with a brown woolen skirt and a white cotton blouse, you look the part of a kitchen maid who forgot half her garments at home.
People look at you in the streets, but without your usual attire and with your hair styled differently, they wouldn’t know who they’re looking at even if they saw you frolic around like this in court. You know they’re looking at you because you're a half naked woman ripe for taking, stubbornly out at night and dressed so suggestively it’s a miracle no guard rapes you before you reach the inn.
Maybe it’s the royal pride that keeps them away: you certainly look like you haven’t toiled in the fields or shoveled horse dung in your poor miserable life. There’s an air about you, and he notices it too, far before you’ve sat your pretty bum on the bench next to him.
“What are you doing,” he asks with a slightly alarmed voice.
He has that stick up his arse again, sits so straight that you’ve never seen such a ramrod back on anyone. When you set your hand over his, he only blinks.
“One silver to hold you, sir,” you lean to whisper on his skin, the shaved cheek you’ve wanted to kiss for so, so long. “What do you say...?”
He’s still breathing, even if there’s no sound to prove that he is. You can only see it from the rise and fall of his chest, covered by a stained, cream-white gambeson, that he’s breathing. He’s big, even without his armor, big and strong and intimidating, a tower of strength in one man.
“I cannot bed women,” he talks to the stout logs that make the walls of the inn, refusing to even look at you after one quick horrified glimpse.
“Who said anything about bedding?”
“This is a dangerous game, your grace,” he warns with a low purr when you won’t relent.
His voice is parched but smooth, and you smell smoke; delicious smoke from the fire that sticks to the clothes of a person who spends too many hours staring into a fire. You smell ham and earth and leather and sweat, horses and metal, the rusty stench of mail gone bad.
You wonder how you smell to his nostrils – is it something sweet? Fresh herbs and lavender oil maybe, or soft, spun wool, some tangerines and summer wine?
“I’m not your grace,” you tell him, nose now touching the bridge of his ear. “Not in here.”
You see from the turned sleeve of his padded tunic that the hairs on his arm are standing on end. His eyes are closed, and you can finally hear his ragged breaths. Desire speaks in them, or then you’re in over your head... Why else would he sound like that, like he’s already making love?
“One silver, sir, and I’ll hold you all night,” you repeat softly, and he swallows with a dry, open mouth.
“I don’t have such money on me,” he rasps, voice drenched in slow, drowsy want.
He wants this; wants, wants, wants….
“Really? Is my price too high?”
“Far too high for a man like me.”
You breathe a smile upon his skin, the place where his neck meets his jaw. Running your fingers across his wrist, you leave little to the imagination and you both know it.
“You can pay for the room and we’ll see how much you have left after that.”
“Princess, this is–”
“Hush.”
He’s in pain now, you can see it: the sharpness, the distant eagle gaze from his eyes is gone. He can barely keep his lids open, and when you peel the sleeve back with your hand, pet him like he’s one of your cats, press your lips on the spot you know is the most sensitive, he groans.
“You’re going too far,” he whispers, but won’t move. Breathless now, he can’t even speak with dignity. Gone are the distanced grunts and the composure, even the stick in his arse has melted away.
If a touch of your lips and the softest caress can do this to him, what would happen if you straddled his lap? How would it feel to be pressed against him, naked and entwined in a mutual embrace?
“You didn’t say no to that other girl,” you breathe more kisses on his skin. “Am I so horrendous…?”
“You–” he starts, opens his eyes somewhat. “You are teasing me on purpose.”
“You never were the brightest of my father’s knights,” you smile a little laugh in his ear.
He grabs his pint as if that could save him; out of fury or lust, you don’t know. And that’s when your little adventure gets interrupted: someone must’ve had enough of this disgusting display of seduction and whoring.
“Pardon me, lovebirds. The room’s a copper, if it please you,” a tired voice says from somewhere above. “And the ale is–”
“Ja, ja. I’ll pay,” your knight grunts with such annoyance that you’re not sure if he’s mad at you or the poor soul who interrupted you two.
Everyone here must think that you’re here to make some coin on a lonesome, desperate man. And he’s desperate, by God, he’s desperate… But when you walk upstairs and into your room, he takes a dip in cold waters without you knowing anything about it. When the door shuts behind you, your knight is back to the unbroken effigy he was last week, as he has always been.
“You sleep there,” he points at the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“There’s plenty of room on the–”
“One more word from that pretty mouth and I’ll tell your father what you’ve been up to.”
You’re sent to your bed without supper, in your silly clothes, and get to watch how he barely takes his boots off before setting himself down on the floor, back turned to you. The innocent question “You think my mouth is pretty?” only gets an irritated scoff for an answer.
From under the linens, you watch him sigh and slowly turn to stone on the cold floor. There’s a big rug there but it’s barely enough to keep the chill out, and the hearth is cold during late days of spring. You’re warm enough here under your sheet, but you would be warmer if your knight was here with you… Warm body against yours as you both hold each other through the night.
If only he could be enticed here by lying that you’re freezing... His honor would force him to share the bed with you, and your poor knight wouldn’t have to wake up with sore joints. The more you listen to him let out those occasional sighs, the more you want to shake this man. This silly act of martyrdom has to come to an end, now.
Slipping out from the warmth of your bed, you tiptoe to him. You know he can hear you, probably cursing in his mind with that crude foreign tongue of his. Laying yourself down behind him, you snuggle close until your front is glued to his back.
It must pain him to have a maiden leave the comfort of her bed and trade it for the dirty floor, but you wonder if there’s pleasure in the pain when your touch finds him once more. And it’s not just want and lust you feel when you place your arm around him. It’s not motherly love either, although you do feel like you’re embracing a giant child who doesn’t want to be comforted. You know nothing about how lovers touch or hold each other, you’ve never touched a man other than your father, and those touches were never affectionate and warm, those touches were barely there at all.
You wonder if you should be scared: you were taught that men will fuck everything that moves when given the chance. If a man of his size chose to take you here on this floor, there would be nothing left of you. Such an outcome seems dubious, however, when your sworn shield acts like he would rather be anywhere but here.
“Let me hold you,” you whisper when he continues to be stiff as a rock in your embrace. “You don’t have to pay me. Surely you know that you don’t have to–”
He moves, and at first you fear he’s about to rise and dart to the door. Make a run for it and slam it shut because you pushed it too far, his dumb, danger seeking maiden.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he turns around and buries his face somewhere in your neck. He does it so forcefully that you’re almost sent to lie on your back, and you barely catch the naked pain in his eyes before a rough arm snakes itself around your waist and pulls you close.
Warm breaths hit your skin, sending all the little hairs in your body shooting up – were he to move an inch further down, his face would be buried in your tits…
And then come the tears.
You’ve never heard a man cry like that – well, you’ve never heard a man cry at all. You didn’t even know they knew how to weep. It’s like all the tears in the world are reserved for women and children because there’s no wetness even now: your knight cries in thick, dry sobs, shudders that shake the both of you, years and years of suffering sighed through gritted teeth and into your hair.
Slowly, so slowly, you place your arm around him once more. Your hand barely reaches the middle of his back, so vast is this man, now only a crumbling mountain in your embrace. But when you won’t waver, when you refuse to turn your tail and run, he slowly melts in your arms like spring snow.
He still breathes as if in pain, the sounds that come out of his mouth heartbroken and strained. You’re not surprised to see that even his crying is an act of violence; he’s a man inconsolable.
And yet, you console him. Comfort him. Like a mother, you stay and let him cry his fill in your ear as he clutches you, threatening to tear the back of your poor cotton blouse while doing it.
When he’s done, the shakes recede and his body is warm and calm, soft, almost. He pants and swallows, comes down from it with so much shame that you’re sure he has never done this with anyone, not ever before.
And then…
“I beg for your forgiveness, my lady,” he gruffs on your skin. “That was–”
“Shh... It’s alright.”
You caress the back of his neck, sweaty from the toil. He releases the fabric of your blouse only to grab it again in an even tighter fist. The face in your neck is buried deeper, his lips now pressed right over your throat.
“It has always been you, Geliebte... God knows it has always been you.”
You freeze in the middle of his confession, the panting on your skin intolerably thick now. When you swallow against his mouth, he pulls you against him, the body that used to be rigid and cold now like a hot, thick furnace, threatening to devour yours.
“You must know it too,” he whispers. “You must. You’ve seen my torment. Tell me you’ve seen it…”
He’s not demanding more than he is desperate, some dam suddenly being breached by a long-held flood.
If anything, you thought he hated you... You thought you were alone in your anguish, but it turns out he has carried the same soft secret all these years.
And it drowns you for a moment, his want and yours. Hands trying to touch whatever they can, mouth searching yours like he’s about to die if he can’t have a sip. You’ve heard what happens to women who allow themselves to get groped in dark hallways and winding steps; they hardly ever escape a man’s touch with their maidenhood still intact. And yet, this is what you’ve always dreamed of; a hot, blunt, forbidden encounter with this man.
Now that he’s finally on fire for you, you’re not so sure though. What if you’re about to mate with a beast?
“Sir…” you whisper when he plants trembling kisses down your throat. He thinks you’re only moaning his title in the throes of pleasure, and squeezes you against him so hard that a tight little whimper is squished out of your mouth.
“I’m–I’m untouched,” you tell him before he sends his face between your tits, and it finally has the effect you feared and hoped for.
He freezes too, in the middle of tearing down your blouse. A shivering hand releases the fabric slowly, reverently; it rises to cup your face as your flushed knight meets your stare with shame.
“Of course you are,” he hushes upon your lips, strokes your cheek softly. “I cannot bed you. I know. But let me…”
He blushes while searching for the right words. That’s the moment when you start to suspect if he’s ever even been with a woman. What kind of a womanizer would blush when they’re about to make love to a lady?
“Let me make you feel good,” he finally suggests. “I’ve heard… of a way.”
He almost stutters when he says it, and you wonder if this is what he’s prayed forgiveness for. If he’s been thinking about different ways of wrecking you so much that it’s enough to send him to hell…
“And then,” he continues, “we’ll never speak of this again. You’ll become my lady, and I’ll become your sworn shield once more. We’ll be as we always were. As it always was...”
You’re not sure if you like that – returning to your status quo, becoming who you were before clutching each other on the floor like mad animals about to mate. But you nod.
Whatever he wishes to do to you, it must be something good, and you trust him. Even after he showed you a side of him you’ve never seen before, you’d trust this man with your life.
Your valiant knight carries you back to bed, and delivers on his promise. He never undresses you, he never defiles you. He just lifts your ankle to his lips and gives it a soft, reverent kiss, grazes your shin with his mouth before starting to worship you like a pagan idol of old.
You don’t know where he heard about it–at the stables, or the kitchen, at the barracks or the taverns–but the way with which he makes you squirm doesn’t require a cock, not even a hand. His lips are gentle, but his mouth is hungry, and you don’t know how to feel shame when he’s buried under your dress like that. You can’t even see his face when he makes you his, claims you with his mouth alone.
It must be a sin to not take you like a man takes a woman on a wedding night; it must be a sin that it does not hurt at all, what he wants to do to you. But you don’t care. Love is much better and far messier than how they depict it in the songs, and no one ever talks about the noises a man can make when they pleasure a woman.
He groans like a beast, but moans like a whore – it sends a flush of hot blood up your cheeks to hear him so utterly needy and vile. Your knight who barely gave you a grunt as a greeting in your father’s hall now whines with a broken pitch between your legs. His hot sighs drown your own, and you thank Saint Mary and all the angels that there’s loud music and booming laughter downstairs. It’s still there, the dirty tavern, even if you’re being sent to heaven on this bed...
He gives you mercy only after you break upon his mouth with a series of tight cries. Spends a lengthy amount of time under your dress too, licking and kissing you clean.
He doesn’t appear to be in any hurry to get out of there, but when he emerges, he looks like a drowned, happy puppy, this giant, brooding knight… The sight seizes your heart in a flaming hand that you know will never let go: it’s forever engraved in your heart, that drunken, devoted stare. You thought that men had the needs of an animal and that women were put on this earth just for them to have their fill, but when you look at your knight, it appears it’s the other way around... This man has finally found what he was looking for. Between your legs, he just found his Heaven on earth, his Holy Grail.
And so he returns from his quest with a devotion that leaves you breathless. Takes you in his arms like an injured bird, making you feel like it’s summer already, and the world is nothing but songs and tales and long nights of bliss.
“Know that I am yours,” he says. “Until my dying breath and even beyond, I’m yours.”
It’s a pledge, not a statement, and it’s said with so much weight that the vow he swore to your father pales in comparison.
“Sir... You always say such silly things,” you whisper back while lying in a pool of shimmering love, a heaven on earth indeed. Not even anointed, true to their faith knights talk like this… And he just smiles languidly when you raise a hand to brush his cheek.
He looks like another hug could save him, like a simple adoring stare from you is all that is needed to keep him going for another year. It irks you that he’s ready to settle for so little when you’re ready to give him everything he’s ever wanted and more. With what just happened, he’ll live on for a thousand, thousand years, he’ll survive even the coldest of nights – but you won’t.
“I want to make you feel good too,” you tell him, and a flash of fresh panic crosses his eyes.
“Süssling…”
He says it with worry, but does nothing when you send an exploring hand to his bulge. Drawing a sharp breath when you sweep your hand over it, he goes rigid again, this time for reasons other than just nervousness.
You’re younger and therefore more impatient, which means you’re at the strings of his pants in no time. He looks at your greed with a slack jaw and a set of furrowed brows, but never tries to prevent you. It only spurs you on that he’s acting so shy in front of an eager maiden when other men would already be bullying their cocks in your unexplored heat.
“This is madness,” he whispers when you pull out the heavy, hard cock that reminds you of the members you’ve seen on horses and bulls.
Of course the man’s big down there when he’s practically a myth walking… And there must be a way to pleasure him too, some lovely devilry that will leave you a maiden. A virgin for him to take on your wedding night – because you will marry this man, no matter what anyone says. You’ll burn the whole kingdom down before giving yourself to any other man.
You wrap your fingers around him to punctuate it that he’s yours. If he feared you might mirror what he just did to you, he makes no comment about it when you don’t, only whines when his cock is snared by a frail but eager hand.
“Princess,” he warns, slightly out of breath. “I will stain your dress…”
“Shh. Show me how to please you.”
The worry in his eyes is wild and bright, but the way your fingers mold around him leaves no space for arguments. A broken, stiff sigh is punched out of him when you begin to move: if he won’t show you how, it’s no trouble at all to try and find out yourself.
But when your thumb sweeps over the weeping tip of him, he finally brings a trembling hand upon yours. He starts to guide you, adjusts your grip, huffs when you both apply pressure on it. The curious creature that you are, you look down to witness the ugly beauty of it all.
It’s intimidating and rough, the cock in your hand... It looks like a weapon, honestly, a battering ram that leaks heady liquid from the head. Smooth and heavy and ripped with veins, it’s like a too hard muscle about to bludgeon something, and your hand is making it drool profusely. Would that it were inside you, you would be in grave danger, and why is it that you find the prospect so seductive?
His hand is far bigger than yours, and it makes your heart run wild, the way he tries to be gentle while using your grip to get himself off. He can’t even keep his eyes open from the shame, just takes a quick glance at your enthralled face before squeezing his eyes shut once more.
“Look at me,” you command softly, and he obeys – what else can a sworn knight do? – but you can see that the poor man is on the verge of tears. Shaking and panting, he stares at you while fucking himself with your hand, and when you close the small breath of air between you and kiss him, he melts.
The first thick spurt surprises you completely, you even mewl into his mouth when it shoots to stain your dress. You didn’t expect that to happen, at least not so fast… And because this is the first time you’ve seen a man come undone, you quickly leave the panting, moaning mouth and look down.
There’s so much of it, and the release is so violent; it looks and sounds like it hurts because the man is shuddering and groaning as if stabbed. Thick, white pulses of seed coat the brown wool of your dress, but it soaks the semen gladly: there’s nothing left of his cum other than dark, damp stains after he’s done.
And there’s no end to his shame. He pries your hand away from his cock as soon as he’s somewhat composed. Does it with a shaky hand, wipes what little stains of hot, wet seed you have on your palm to his pants, and all you’re thinking about is what it would feel like to have this giant trembling and groaning like that above you, inside you… If you could even take all of that thick, brutal length. If he would be able to move away when inside your heat, if he’d let you hug him again, just hold him close so that he’d never ever leave anymore…
“I have soiled you,” he mutters while looking at your skirt.
“Nonsense. You have only claimed me... I’m yours now.”
“Princess… No amount of silver–”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare.”
You actually manage to kiss him silent. Tears begin to run down his face when you show him where he belongs. It’s the final surrender as he pulls you into his arms and finally drowns you in love – at last, you find yourself under him as he takes what's his. What seems like hours later, he breaks the kiss, only to look into your eyes with full-blown adoration.
“How am I to live without you after this?”
“You don’t have to. Not ever,” you say.
“Princess. If there was any hope for me to have your hand, if there was any hope that your father would give it, I would have carried you away from this place years ago.”
For a while, you fear it’s the fear of sin that burns him. But then you realize it was always only just you.
He looks so anguished now, even more in pain, when all you wanted to do was relieve his agonies. This was only a taste of what he can’t have. You both took a bite of the forbidden fruit but can’t eat the entire thing – no wonder he looks like he’s cast out of heaven he didn’t know even existed.
“Sir, I cannot do this,” you grab his face with both hands now. “Please don’t make me do this...”
He sighs and looks at the mess you just made. He’s broken every oath he’s ever taken, and the evidence is scattered right there between you. The only thing deadlier than this would’ve been if he pumped all of that hot, fluid sin inside you.
“Sweetling,” he laments. “Look at us. You’ve already ruined me. Ruined us both…”
“It’s called love, silly.”
He breathes a short, shy smile, the first you’ve ever seen on him. It’s cute and makes him look young, the quick flash of teeth between unruly lips, the almost bashful, downcast eyes that are not quite ready to meet the full brunt of your devotion.
“Ja,” he breathes. “Ich weiss.”
Then he brings his eyes back to yours, his smile slowly making way for a more serious expression. He lifts a hand to touch your cheek, and you find yourself soaring in the sky like a bird, a phoenix that has risen from the dead. It’s heavenly, the way you both caress each other, here on the lowly tavern’s bed, covered in salt, sweetness and sin.
“Your father will have both our heads if he finds out,” he tells you as if you needed the reminder.
“I pray our heads will never be separated then.”
He snorts a quick smile again. It makes you heady, that you’re apparently the only one who can make this gruesome giant laugh.
“You’re dangerous, princess,” he gruffs. “I knew you were trouble… And yet I curse all the years I left you in peace.”
“I know,” you smile. “Never the brightest one, my love...”
When you lie in his arms that night and tell him about your silly little fantasies, he grows hard again. When you tell him you now have new ones—ones where you’d want to feel him inside you—he looks like a man condemned to death.
The stares he shoots your way make it clear that he’s lost – no matter what he says, he can’t be kept away from you, not anymore. You suppose he’ll forsake even more secret promises and vows before forsaking the pledge he swore to you. Even at the cost of your lives, he’ll come scratching at your door, howling for some quick, hot love in the night, begging for you to give him everything he has denied himself.
And eventually, you grow more serious too. While lying in his arms, safe and tucked away from all the horrors of this world, you play with the leather strings of his gambeson, tugging them and twisting them around your finger like a child.
“There will come a day when they promise me to another,” you whisper, wondering if he’s already asleep.
He promised to never leave your side again, he promised. And still… What will happen when the carriage and horses take you to some distant, hostile kingdom, far away from him? What if you only get this summer together, and then nothing no more?
“They’ll take me away,” you tell him, almost without a voice.
A soft, hearty grumble answers, a man who finally knows what he’s fighting for.
“No one will take you away, sweetling. Not as long as I live.”
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UNMATCHED
A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it
WORD COUNT: 2.6k
WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship
SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him.
He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot.
He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues.
Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always.
Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure.
Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him.
“Profesor! So good to see you here!”
And here we go.
It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests.
That’s when he sees her.
Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time.
Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them.
She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.
From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway.
He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace.
And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.
“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle.
He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her.
The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced.
“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose.
“S-Sorry, I don’t–”
“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”
She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes.
“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”
“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly.
He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks.
“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling.
“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”
“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh.
“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”
“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”
“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”
“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”
The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman.
“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”
“I’d be happy to.”
The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads, recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception.
They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet.
When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.
“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”
“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”
“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”
“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”
She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?
“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”
“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”
There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance.
“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”
For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then…
Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him.
It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.
“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”
Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further.
They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him.
He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him.
But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen.
“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins.
“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.
“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”
“Okay.”
Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.
He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts.
Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins.
“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.
“I wanted it–”
“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”
“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”
“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”
And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.
“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.
“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.
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a/n: something possessed me and i just started writing ... / 1.2k
warnings: age gap (reader in 20s and in uni, nanami in his late 30s), oral / cunnilingus, doggy, daddy kink, implied overstim, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, like brief fingering?, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut
thinking about dad’s best friend!nanami who helps you to move into your university dormitory, arms flexing against his tight dark blue shirt as you try not to stare. it’s unbecoming, eyes trailing over the sweat dripping down his forehead, the sharp lines of his jawline and furrowed brows, espeically since he met your dad long ago when he first joined the company, seeing you from time to time in your father’s office in high school. but nanami never thought he’d see you to grow up to be the woman you are today, moving into your very own room with a bright smile — ready to take on your major and the world.
“everything in?” your dad asks with tears in his eyes and you simply push his shoulder, telling him how i’ll be fine, dad! before hugging him in between boxes and plastic bags. just behind him, nanami shoots you a gentle smile too, recalling on the times when he’s seen you help out at the office in your gap year, where you slip in little sandwiches on your lunch breaks. he thinks it’s you wanting to revisit old times where your father would buy danish pastry just for you to give it to the blonde man, but you’re hoping to melt his stoicism even further to the point of wanting things to happen — things you didn’t even want to admit out loud — with how fine nanami has aged over the years.
but one visit turned into two. the second one with your dad where rather, they talked while you worked on an assignment, but you enjoyed both of their presence. two turned into three — the third where nanami has already memorised how many steps it would take to reach your room. three turned into five, and five turned into nine where his hand would wander past your bedsheets and onto your figure, where casual talk about his work turned into conversations about you and what you liked. but nanami was always afraid of crossing over.
it was the tenth visit where dad’s best friend!nanami shows up sweaty and panting like he needs to tell you something, but when your eyes drift down to the hand he tries to hide the gears click in your head. it was only fifteen minutes ago that nanami has himself cooped up in the admin toilet downstairs, fist pumping his cock impatiently while he imagines your tits in front of his face, bouncing. where your hips do the same, whining out into his neck as your pussy clenches and gushes around him. it’s because he was interrupted by a knock that the first thing he did was to come here, but he wasn’t thinking straight. that all fades away when your hand cups his bulge, squeezing slightly that nanami wants to unbuckle his pants, but you drag him into your room before he can do it.
dad’s best friend!nanami who has your panties stuffed into your mouth as he eats you out on the dormitory bed, slurping every last bit of your juices up while his mouth works wonders on your dripping cunt. “nanami-san! p-please—” it’s a struggle to talk through fabric but you manage to get the words out, hips starting to hump into his mouth, feeling nothing like this before in your life as he nibs and sucks on your clit. nanami hums into your pussy and his arms tighten around your thighs, “please what? words, baby, use your words.” you shiver at the timbre of his voice, alongside the smoothness in which he removes your underwear. “but not too loud, or else everyone in school will know what a dirty slut you are for your father’s best friend.”
dad’s best friend!nanami who has your face shoved into your my melody bedsheets as he pounds into you from behind, shirt held up by his teeth so he can the way you take just all of his fat cock. by now, he’s drawn out multiple orgasms after holding back on you for so long — it was a sight, a babbling, pathetic mess on the bed while your cum drips from your core right down to the sheets. it’s beyond easy to slip into your hole, and nanami has to squeeze your waist so hard to try not to cum that you’re telling him to loosen his grip and he apologises with kisses down your back. he’s only kissed you once so far so you moan into the second kiss that night, hips moving back onto his pelvis before he slams his length right into you.
dad’s best friend!nanami’s demeanour changes altogether after that sweet, sensual kiss, pushing down on your arch before setting a pace, dick twitching from how tight and warm you felt around him. “can’t believe you kept this pussy from me for s’long…” nanami is entranced by his best friend’s daughter’s cunt, sucking him in so well he starts to realise that maybe buying sandwiches everyday wasn’t simply for reminsincing. you fight against his strong grip, smiling up at him, deliriously. “yeah? it’s all for you, daddy.” and nanami forgets his own rule, groaning out loud at the drop of the name as he continues to slam into you. it’s so wet and sticky, pre-cum mixed with your cum together with the slap of his balls on your ass, it was so fucking disgusting in that room and you loved it.
whines of “daddy’s” were all that was coherent from your mouth, headboard of the bed rocking with naanmi’s rough thrusts as you become more and more intoxicated on his cock. nanami easily removes his shirt, then, reaching an arm around and starts to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him before you’re jolting in surprise at the sudden orgasm, mouth going slack and your eyes seeing white from its intensity. nanami slows down just a little for you to adjust, but soon he rails into you again, low grunts leaving his lips before he’s asking where you want him to cum and he wants to burn your fucked out expression into his brain and seal your whimpers from ever escaping his thoughts.
“wan’ your cum in me, daddy— p-please!” you moan out, spreading your cheeks and pussy lips to tell him you were serious. “b-but—” nanami was getting lightheaded, your walls feel too good around him and he just wants to cum. “wonder what my dad would think having his best friend fill me with so much cum that he knocks me up? that would be exciting, right?” and nanami scoffs at what a filthy girl you are. sure, if you wanted his cum dripping out of your cunt while you attended lectures, while your joked with your dad, he’ll give it to you. he’ll give anything to you. there’s a choked moan that leaves nanami as he stills, pumping you full of his semen while your fingers close around the sheets and your pleas are muffled by them. you can fill each spurt of cum from his tip, flowing into you so well that it dribbles out from your pussy, pushing it out before there’s a swipe of nanami’s finger plunging into you.
“if my sweet girl wants my cum, she’s going to keep it in. well — after i give her a few more loads, of course.”
so many dorm escapades.. maybe im projecting a little cause is this so difficult to ask for???
#LIKE WOWWW this came out of nowhere?????#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x you#jjk x reader#nanami x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk thirsts#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento jjk#kento nanami smut#kento nanami#jjk nanami smut
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dilf!toji who finds you sitting in the curb at one am when he’s doing a quick run to 7/11 to grab a few snacks and a six pack. wondering why on earth, a pretty girl like you is alone.
after paying, he exits through the door before walking cautiously towards you. eyes glancing left and right to find no one is around, not even a car. meaning that you may have walked here.
“hi there sweetheart, you okay?” he calls out of worries. it’s very dark outside and far too dangerous for a young thing like you to be all here alone.
the moment you turn your head around, toji swears he had never seen someone so beautiful. glossy irises looking up at him with your messy long curls framing your features. glittery makeup decorating your eyes, nose and lips.
you must be no older than twenty-five.
“huh?” so clueless, yet so pretty. “o-oh. i’m—good, sir.. thank you” shooting him a small toothy grin with a gummy worm tuck in between your teeth,
he chuckles at that, hand shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. how adorable.
he nods his chin towards your disregarded kitten heels beside you. “rough night?”
shrugging, you tug off the stretchy sweet off your mouth before chewing. “something like that.”
he tsks at that, head shaking. “it’s not safe for a girl like you to be out here. considering it’s very late. did you walk here?”
nodding, you put a strand of hair behind your ear. “i did, yes. i needed.. food. i was hungry.”
your answer makes him breathe out a laugh. “candies aren’t food, sweetheart—i assumed you were at a party dressing like that” he points out at your skin tight pink dress that barely covers your thighs, and he has to restrain himself from thinking unholy thoughts.
“it was getting quite crowded… i didn’t like it.. suffocating” your voice coming off quiet, if not—sad—“the food there is awful too”
toji hums, taking another step closer as your eyes follow his movements. head tilting back a bit when you notice he’s only standing inches away from your small figure,
“boyfriend not around?” his head move to the side, eyes roaming down your figure. shaking your head, he asks again. “what happened?”
you reply shakily. “he dumped me.. called me nasty things” a tear escapes your eye as you begin to remember what your ex had done to you two hours prior. “t-that’s why i’m here.”
when he sees you beginning to cry, he can’t help but feel bad. what a fucking asshole he thinks. making a cute girl cry and dumped her in the middle of the night? who fucking does that?!
he crouches down to your eye level. and that’s when you finally take a good look of his appearance. breath almost hitching at just how even more handsome he looks up close. even the faint scar across his lips just makes this man even more hotter.
“i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. sounds to me like he’s a straight jerk, yeah?” he says with a small smile. seeing you nod as a reply. gaze isn’t moving from his. “don’t cry over him, i bet he doesn’t deserve a beautiful girl like you”
your cheeks warm at that, eyes dropping to your lap just so he won’t notice how nervous he makes you feel by that comment. however, his finger moves underneath your chin to get you to look back at him again. his thumb grazing against your soft skin,
“want me to beat his ass for you? because i will, just lead the way”
you can’t help but giggle at his offer, and it makes toji’s heart skip a beat at the beautiful sound. his lips stretch into a bigger smile when he sees you like that.
“atta girl. there she is” he chuckles, “how old are you, baby?”
“i’m twenty one”
toji mutters out a soft ‘fuck’ which earns a confused frown from you. he’s almost twice your age. “you need a ride back to the party? i promise i’m not a creep or anything. just can’t stand at the thought of you walking back alone. something bad could happen, you know?”
“i would like that very much sir, thank you” a smile pulls upon your pink glossy lips, fingers fiddling with each other,
toji finds you to be endearing, adorable and pretty when you look at him like that. it has been too long since someone makes his heart ponder like this, and all you had to do was just smile at him with a gummy packet in your hand.
“call me toji, sweetheart—c’mere. up you get” he moves the sixpack towards his left hand as the other grabs yours, helping you up on your feet. “but before that, i think you need to get better food in your system. we’ll stop by at something, yeah?”
you nod quickly, slipping your feet back into the heels with a wide smile not leaving your face. “okay!”
with that, toji smiles back at you before putting his hand on your back, guiding you towards his car.
-
will expand because in this au toji is a rich ass man and ready to give him everything for his soon to be baby <3
(look what you made me do @tojisun )
#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro fluff#dilf!toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro blurbs
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Do you have a full master post of like your cowgirls lore, how they met, their backgrounds and situations they got in ect. I absolutely am obsessed with them.
Why thank you so so much
I’ve talked so much about them on here, but it’s scattered, and quite a lot of it has evolved lore wise
So let’s make this that master post:
Basic lore for this universe:
Set in a non specific time of the Wild West (implied to be the tail end of the era)
But with a magical twist. The folklore of things that are not quite human living alongside humanity is real, and they are hunted for their skin. It is a known fact that shapeshifters exist, and they are illegal. Though some peoples “magic blood” don’t always show itself as Shapeshifting, it can also appear as accelerated healing or acute senses. These people are generally referred to as beasts or animals
These transformations are hard on “beasts,” they take up a lot of strength to preform them, and if you’re injured in one form, it can take time before you’re able to switch. If you’re injured enough it can be permanent.
Brunette: Flora Guerra
She was born to an Italian immigrant family with strict parents, as well as the youngest daughter to five other children. When she was 16, her parents arranged a courtship with a much older man. Flora was furious, this rage culminated in her first transformation, unfortunately this happened in front of the man as well as the rest of her family. They immediately turned their backs on her, disgusted with what she was. Terrified, she fled. She hopped on trains and resorted to petty theft to make her way west, to a land she hoped would be freer than the life she left behind!
Her first big brush with the law was when she stole her horse Bandit from a man who was treating him poorly. She fled the scene but only after shooting one officer. (Thus her first ever bounty was for murder)
Her main way of making money was seducing men and robbing them blind while they were distracted by her beauty, unfortunately she picked up the wrong trick one day, a notorious gang leader, who instead of shooting her outright, brought a then 17 year old Flora back to his gang. She became “his girl” and used her looks to help him get what he wanted.
In the gang however there was one man who was like her! He could turn into a wolf, like how she could turn into a jackalope, they formed a bond, and when the gang fell apart, he was the one to get her out safely.
Ginger: Mattie (Matilda) Hayes
Mattie is the eldest daughter of her odd family. Her father and mother immigrated from Ireland, her mother dying during childbirth of her youngest child, Ben. Because of this, Mattie became the sole caretaker of him, very much raising him herself. The entire family were beasts of some sort.
Mattie could turn into a fox from a young age, her brother as well started to transform around the same time. (Though he was a cougar)
Their father, was also odd, in more ways than just beastly. He was a sour old man with a mean streak, drink had a mighty hold on him. After an incident that broke the camels back, involving hateful words and a smashed beer bottle, Mattie had enough. In a fit of rage she set fire to her father’s barn, in the aftermath She packed her bags and set to leave. She tried to get Ben to come, but he refused and told her to never come back. So she listened.
At 18, her and her horse June travelled the desert, finding odd jobs, pulling off some robberies, and failing at pickpocketing, this left her with quite a price on her head.
After a couple years of travelling by herself, the way she preferred, she ran into Flora for the first time.
First meeting:
They met as their animals first, Mattie was trying to hunt Flora but got startled by her horns.
Later on, she was trying to rob a man on the side of the road. Only for Flora to swoop in at the last moment and get the trick instead. (By “saving” the man, but picking his wallet a moment later)
That night, Mattie was nursing her hurt ego by drinking her weight at a saloon, but alas she couldn’t even enjoy her whiskey in peace, when the woman who stole her prize sat down at the bar with her.
Pissed off Mattie tried to storm away but bumped into an angry drunk, this turned into a full on bar fight. Which Flora dragged her away from and offered to patch up her wounds
They stuck together after that. But didn’t become lovers till much later
Flora fell first, but Mattie fell harder.
JESUS this is long I’m sorry
Anyways main plot:
Word gets to Mattie that her father is dead, and her younger brother has resorted to a life crime. He is being set to hang once he’s caught. She sets out to find him.
Flora’s old gang has picked up on her location, and they are hunting her down. Scared for Mattie’s safety she works with her old friend to figure out how to keep them off their trail.
The two of them have also been found out to be beasts by the law, so on top of being wanted because of their crimes, they are also being stalked by beast hunters.
Everything seems to be going okay, Mattie finds Ben, and together her and Flora help him get away from the noose, they look after him and bring them to their camp. They thought they were evading the hunters as well as the gang.
What they didn’t know was that Ben still held a grudge for Mattie leaving. He blames her for their father’s ultimate death.
He rats them out, not only to the hunters, but to Flora’s old gang. He figured that if he gave them their location, the law would let him go. They took the bargain.
The hunters and the gang ambush them, Ben leading the way.
Flora gets injured during the fight in her human form. Ben nearly kills her.
The siblings go head to head in their beastly forms, and against all odds, the fox beats the lion, killing the last remaining member of her family.
Flora, incredibly injured, cannot transform, and for reasons unknown to Mattie, she cannot switch back.
Years pass, Flora has a limp that doesn’t go away. She is never able to be her animal again. And Mattie, well, she didn’t get too injured that day, though it seems like something broke inside because she lost her human form.
They move north together, and live a peaceful life, even though it’s not quite normal. What with Mattie being a fox and all that.
A decade or so after everything, they’ve been out of the life for a long time, is when Mattie finally finds herself again. Though she’s very different to what she used to be, her human form had changed, more fox like and more wild, though still her. She can only take that form for bits at a time, but it’s something. They’re happy
If you read all of this… damn thank you!!
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hi! you're great I love your work! I've got a weirdly specific archery question and thought I'd send it to you in case you'd find it fun to have a crack at
say you're an expert archer originally from Vietnam sometime in the late bronze age. say you're a super duper expert archer because it turns out you're immortal, and so you do your archery across Eurasia through the first millennium BCE and the first millennium CE and into the age where gunpowder weapons are evolving into cannons. that's a long time to be alive and you do lots of hunting and fighting with all kinds of bows and shooting styles, especially war archery on horseback. then you're out of the picture for a while, let's say you're peacefully sleeping for a handful of centuries. (this is about Quynh from The Old Guard who alas was not peacefully sleeping)
all of a sudden you blink and you've gone from the era where firearms were just starting to develop and maybe with this new flintlock thing guns could eventually get good enough to rival a bow and arrows— bam, now you're in the 21st century. what kinds of modern archery tech would you be most excited to try out? what would you think of a compound bow? Olympic style archery? plastic fletching?? how about the modern reproductions of what are now considered historical bows and shooting styles? is there anything about 21st century archery that you'd want to rant about at length? other opinions about these newfangled takes on your trusty old bow and arrows you care to share?
This is a phenomenal question, and thank you for asking it! Here’s my 2 cents:
The thing about modern archery is that for the most part, modern bows are designed to make it easier to be accurate, to the stage that modern target accuracy is probably better than it’s ever been historically.
BUT, if we assume Quynh is capable of feats of archery that match the level of melee combat skill that e.g. Andy has, then she doesn’t NEED it to be easier to be accurate.
My guess is that someone like her would actually find most modern archery developments needlessly slow and awkward. Compound bows and Olympic recurves are NOT designed for instinctive, fast shooting, and would probably feel quite restrictive once she got over how easy they made accuracy.
BUT, I imagine she would be blown away by the range and arrow speed that modern bows can generate, and there are some recurves (and at least one compound bow), that have been designed to make use of the efficiency of modern materials and bow design, while still allowing traditional shooting styles, and those, THOSE are something an ancient immortal archer might fall in love with! (FWIW, my own go-to is a horsebow made with carbon-fibre limbs and a modern limb profile, and for impact energy it can match some traditional bows with a draw weight that’s 50% greater. The Oneida eagle compound could trump that).
So yeah, it might take her a bit, but once she gets her hands on the right equipment, she’d be (even more) TERRIFYING!
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Could you write Remus being in a bad mood before the full moon and snapping at everyone, but gets all soft when gf reader is near
thanks for requesting! hope you like it!
pairing: Remus x reader
description: Remus is irritable before the full moon, his senses heightened and his temper short… but one person soothes him even when the rest of the world is anything but soothing.
tags: fluffy fluff, established relationship, gn, wolfstar if you squint, (can you tell how much i love sirius even when i’m not writing a sirius fic? oops)
word count: 1.4k
In the quiet, calm common room, where various groups of students sat lounging or studying, where the crackling fire filled the room with a glowing warmth, Remus Lupin sat with his mind in a frenzy, his emotions on a rollercoaster, his body simultaneously restless and aching. It was the night before the full moon, and in a lifelong string of bad ones, this one was particularly bad. His skin felt electric, his mood even more so.
He was planning to retire to his dorm room as soon as — and he meant as fucking soon as — the assignment sprawled on the table in front of him was finished. It was a partnered project. And it was due tomorrow. James — unlucky enough to be his partner — sat on the floor on the other side of the table, sick of the homework and even more sick of his best mate. His best mate whom he loved… his best mate who’d always be there for him… he kept reminding himself when all he could notice was his best mate who snapped at him every three seconds… his best mate who kept losing his place in the project, prolonging the miserable experience each time.
“I think if we just add the bit here about defensive spells at the end, it should be good enough,” he suggests in desperation. “Didn’t we already go over that part?” Remus shoots. “I know ‘good enough’ is perfectly acceptable when you partner with Padfoot, but I’d rather not let one stupid assignment tank the marks I’ve been working for all bloody term.”
“I’m sitting right here, Moony,” Sirius says from beside him without even looking over, used to Remus’s meanness the days before the transformation.
“Yes, the constant distractions to James’s already fickle attention span are reminder enough of that, thanks.”
“Bloody hell you’re bitchy, Moony,” James defends himself, starting to seriously lose his patience. “You’re the one who keeps getting all jittery and losing his place, mate! We’d’ve finished an hour ago otherwise!”
“I —” Remus starts but doesn’t continue, running his hands through his hair in frustration. After a second, a group of first year girls in a nearby corner starts giddily screaming and laughing, and Remus visibly flinches then looks at them murderously. “Fucking hell, have they never heard of ‘inside voices’? Nothing they could’ve just said could possibly that exciting.”
“Alright, moody,” Sirius, more adept at dealing with Remus’s moods than James, finally turns to him. “How about you stop staring daggers at the happy children and focus on your shit so you two can finally finish?” “But they’re so bloody loud,” Remus complains, his senses on overdrive driving him mad. He rolls his eyes at them, and when they let out another fit of loud giggling, his expression suggests he’s considering going over to ask them —politely, he surely thinks — to keep it down. Sirius chuckles but smacks Remus with a cushion to distract him before he inadvertently makes a group of little girls cry. Better Remus takes it out on him and James than strangers, he thinks. Remus not so gently shoves Sirius in response. “What the hell, Pads?! I feel like my skin is on fucking fire, and you, you what? want a pillow fight? Why is everyone behaving like eleven year old girls?” “Well,” Sirius responds with utter calm, “They’re acting like eleven year old girls because they are, Moons. I’m acting like an eleven year old girl because being giddy with your mates transcends age and gender, and you… well, you’re acting like an eleven year old girl because it’s your time of the month, darling.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“No, you are. But we’ll suffer you anyway, right Prongs?”
James grunts and gives a half-hearted, “yeah, yeah.” Remus rolls his eyes but cools off a bit. He goes back to the assignment for a few minutes.
“Pads, no offense, mate, but can you go sit over there?” he asks, nodding at the armchair next to the sofa.
“Rude.” “It’s just… you’re… you’re really hot,” Remus says, his voice tinged with something like embarrassment. Sirius gasps and brings his hand to his chest in mock-scandal.
“Moony! I didn’t know you felt this way about me.” He laughs. In a whisper, he jokes, “Does Y/N know?” Remus just glares at him. “Because you’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” He wriggles his eyebrows at Remus. Remus just shoves him again, this time more playfully, and Sirius gives him space. “Thanks. It’s like my senses are all ten times keener.”
After another painful while of working, Remus registers the common room door opening and closing, and a moment later loud laughter reaches his ears. James and Sirius turn to him in concern, thinking he’s going to snap again. But he doesn’t.
You and Lily, still laughing loudly together, come over to the boys. You plop down next to Remus and all but lay on top of him with an exaggerated exhale. Okay, now they’re certain he’ll snap at the contact. But he doesn’t.
“I’m soo tired,” you say. And when you notice Sirius and James’ wide eyes staring at you in horror, you add, “What?,” looking around confusedly.
Remus’s arms wrap themselves around you, he nuzzles into your jumper, breathing you in, and he says, “Godric, I’m happy to see you, love.” James and Sirius’ expressions relax, James rolling his eyes and Sirius just chuckling. You don’t even notice, your attention fully on Remus now. You wrap your arms around him in turn and start running your hand up and down his back. “You okay, Rem?” you whisper. “No,” James answers before Remus can say anything. “He’s being a complete twat.” You laugh and look down at him in your arms. “That true?” In response, he just buries his head in the crook of your neck, hiding. You feel him give an affirmative “hmm.” You turn back to your other friends, saying, “Well, lads, I’m sure he’s very sorry.” “Yeah, yeah,” says James with a scowl that looks suspiciously like suppressed laughter. Sirius gathers their stuff and, pulling James off the floor, says, “Let’s give the lovebirds some space. You can finish this in the morning.”
It’s just you and Remus on the sofa now, cuddling in the quiet, one of your hands soothingly scratching his scalp, the other rubbing his back.
“I have something for you,” you tell him. His eyes droopy from your ministrations, he looks up at you and quirks an eyebrow. When you scoot a bit away from him to grab your bag, he whines dramatically and pulls you back to him. “Relax, I’m right here,” you laugh, settling in again. “Here,” you say as you hand him a chocolate bar. He giggles in response. “Thanks, sweetheart. I went through the rest of my stash this weekend.” “I know,” you smirk at him. He nuzzles into your shoulder again. “You always take such good care of me,” he whispers, giving your shoulder a kiss. “You take care of me too, Rem. Just in different ways.” Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, and you kiss his forehead before settling yours against it.
“I love you.” A squeeze. “I love you too.” A chaste peck.
After a minute, you stop running your hands through his hair.
“Please don’t stop,” he pleads. “You have no idea what you do to me.” You cheekily quirk an eyebrow at him.
He chuckles lowly but says, “Not like that.” A beat; he smirks. “Well, like that too,” he chuckles again. “But right now I just mean you… I don’t know… you soothe me, I guess. All of me.” He looks a bit more serious now. “James wasn’t wrong. I’ll apologize later. But it’s been driving me absolutely mad all day.” He sighs, and you know he means the upcoming transformation. “But when I’m with you, it’s like the world slows down to normal again. Better than normal, actually, since you’re with me.” He gives you an adoring smile, holding your hand and drawing circles on the back of it. “You soothe all my senses, Y/N.” He kisses the back of your hand. “And my soul,” he adds.
“Remus,” you whine lovingly. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry. And I can never say such beautiful things to you.” “You don’t have to say anything,” he says genuinely. “Just be with me.” He pulls you closer again, and you continue your comforting gestures.
“That I can do,” you say, and he smiles with all the warmth you feel, gives you a lingering kiss, and settles back into your arms.
#remus lupin#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#remus x you#remus fluff#sirius black#james potter#remus x sirius#wolfstar#marauders#marauder x reader#marauders fluff#marauders fanfic#fluff#established relationship
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dbf!rafe thought he was doing a pretty good job at pretending he didn’t care too much about you. but it was coming to the late afternoon, and he’d driven past you wandering around town on your own wearing one of those stupid little mini skirts you’re crazy about and he had to do his duty and command you come with him. for your safety of course. he’d hate if some sick older guy got his hands on you.
“get in. c’mon.” he’s already acting irritable with you and it only spurs you on to act mischievous.
“why so glum, hm?” you pout, letting a small giggle slip through as you fasten your belt — the friend of your fathers glancing around the area briefly to see if anyone had seen his bosses daughter climb into his car before zipping off.
“what’d i tell you last time i saw you just— just walking around asking for trouble?” he berates and he’s not even sure why he’s so wound up. you just got him so pent up and touchy that he always found himself being this way with you.
“asking for trouble? mr cameron i was just hanging out.” you laugh, stretching your legs and going to rest your feet on his dashboard. he shoves your legs off, sending you a scalding glare.
“in that little skirt? yeah i wasn’t born yesterday, alright— you were probably off meeting guys.” he grumbles and you turn your head to him, heart fluttering at the jealous tone he had failed to conceal.
“oh no, not hanging out with guys my own age… that would be the most awful thing in the world, right?” you sark, and he resents the way he can hear the pretty smile in your voice without even turning his attention away from the road. he huffs out a scoff, shaking his head as he pulls up to the traffic light.
“told your old man i’d look out for you, right so — so i am just telling you that you shouldn’t be wandering around meeting guys dressed like a hooker. i know how guys brains work, okay — i am a guy. s’why i’m taking your ass home where you can’t get into any of that shit.” he rants, and before you can complain about him calling you a hooker your attention is caught by his promise to bring you home and you shoot up in your seat.
“no, please. just— anywhere else. not home.” you suddenly sound serious, and he nearly misses the stoplight turning green to glance at you in confusion.
“and why the hell not?” he drawls and suddenly you’re a lot more quiet. he raises his eyebrows waiting for a response.
“i’m fighting with my parents. i just… i don’t want to see them yet.” you sigh, staring at your manicure in your lap. as much as he wanted to teach you a lesson and drag you back into the house to your father, he knew what it was like to have a rocky relationship with his parents. because of this he sighs after his slight hesitation and turns in the direction away from your house.
“ah… shit, alright fine. the fuck do you wanna go then? gotta drop you somewhere, alright?” he relents and you beam.
“really? thanks mr cameron.” your elated expression calms itself into a pur as you lean across the gear stick and press a kiss to his cheek. he clenches his jaw.
“watch it.”
to this you respond with a giggle and he relaxes a little, knowing he had a little more time with you.
“where do you wanna go then? haven’t got all day, kid m’not a fuckin’ taxi.”
“hmm, your place?” you’re quick with your answer, almost like you had it planned. he’d given in a few times, let you have your way with him even though he knew it put his career on the line — and he told himself and you that this could go on no longer.
he huffs out a laugh, scratching at his cheek and shaking his head, choosing to ignore the suggestion. your bottom lip curls over at this, frowning a little.
“raaafe.” you whine and he resists an eye roll.
“what you’re — you’re serious about that shit?”
“mhm… i missed you…” you coo, and he feels your warm body lean across the centre console again, a clawed hand finding his thigh as you speak into his ear. “c’mon dad.” you groan and he feels a hot rush of blood fly through him at the nickname. god you were sick.
“don’t fuckin’ call me that.” he turns into his driveway at tannyhill, parking up infront of the house haphazardly before turning off the car and not making any move to get out.
“just wanna play a little bit.” you complain, kissing down his white shirt leaving lipgloss prints that he’d soon complain about down the expensive material as he watches you with parted lips, feeling your hot breath fan over his hardening crotch.
“well if you’re gonna suck me off just fuckin’ do it alright. don’t wanna hear that shrill ass little voice unless you’re tellin’ me how good that shit tastes. c’mon.”
you couldn’t help but obey.
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˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧always a brat ˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧
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summary: no matter how hard he tries,megumi is always gonna be a spoiled brat that hates to share, especially when it's you he's sharing.
tags: megumi x fem/afab! reader, childhood friends to lovers, slight slight angst mostly cute fluff, flustered pining megumi, jealousy (cute), dad gojo, nanami is so cool (derogatory) this is me wanting cute megumi content bc i miss him too much. Honestly I gave a huge backstory about you and megumi's childhood LMAO enjoy
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It wasn't so long ago that a neurotic white haired lanky man showed up at your doorstep, alongside a bored, odd-haired child to explain curses, and the art of jujutsu sorcery.Yadayada some bad people were looking for you because you have a powerful gift yadayada Gojo can help nurture your talents and keep you from being caught by those bad people because he's a big strong guy who supposedly ruined the world (idk the freak kept yapping for so long) yadayada you may or may not die but you'll be helping people, and not have to be around mean family members who think you're weird for seeing scary monsters they don't believe are real. (showed them)
The whole time this child-highjacker was talking you couldn't help but stare at the young boy about your age hiding behind him, not really out of fear but of disinterest, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Gojo catching on concluded his speech and gestured towards Megumi,"Ah! This little handsome punk right here is Megumi Fushiguro another cute stray i've taken under my wing! You're probably about the same age, first grader? Sooo! I'm sure you're gonna be best friends in no time!" he yelled animatedly, smile wide and mischievous.
Megumi scoffed in response, turning and walking away to a nearby car. You gasped at how so blatantly rude he was to your face, your face painted with obvious irritation. At your reaction Gojo chuckled and reached down to ruffle your (h/c) hair presenting you with a thumbs up.
"Don't mind him, I've come learn he's naturally moody, like is that kid really six years old,..but i'm sure he'll come around...I mean he really has no choice as you two will be a team from now on. Anyways! Let's get you two something to eat..y'like kikufuku?!" Shiny blue eyes peaked from round black sunglasses, you simply shrugged and walked with him to the car with your silly little backpack and your new future.
Growing up with Megumi was a slightly mixed bag, but instead of growing irritated of him, he fascinated you. Despite his more shadowy personality, you were rather fond of him right away,finding his hot temperament and need to be serious rather endearing and cute much to his open and endless dismay.
You wondered how this could be someone your age, as Megumi was much more composed than the supposed adult now taking care of you. He was indifferent to both you and Gojo, only ever interacting with his elder step-sister Tsumiki, who urged him to be kinder and more approachable especially since you two were in the same predicament. Megumi would scoff and tell her to leave him alone and that he didn't wanna make friends just because they're stuck together. You never took offense but it would annoy you that you had the decency to be kind but he wasn't discreet with his attitude.
"Right..like I know i'm the adult but it's kind shooting down my pride that this kid doesn't like me yet, i'm not above bribes..." Gojo had whispered to you after you secretly inquired about the other child, having a difficult time adjusting to your new living situation, the young boy's attitude towards you was not welcoming and though you did your best to leave him alone, you would still extend an arm out as gently as possible. Although, you were also not above checking Megumi's attitude which would result in some major clashes that would make Gojo fret over household repairs.
After walking you guys home from school Gojo would figure out what to feed you before training and homework, allowing you to snack as he stressfully lamented over what to feed the three of you. You're all seated at the table with your homework laid out, peckish from a long day of being an elementary aged child. Tsumiki sat primly in her chair sipping on a pink carton of strawberry milk, a staple in the gojo-fushiguro-(l/n) household. Excitedly you ask her if there were anymore boxes of the heavily worshipped beverages left.
She nodded sweetly, soft brown locks swaying,"Yeah (y/n) there's one more left with your name on it!"
You beam happily out of your seat, ready to grab your treat and announce to your guardian that more strawberry milk was to be added to the grocery list. Until...
.
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You fall face first onto the firmness of the tatami mat and hear the rapid stomping of feet fleeing to the cabinet where your sacred treasure lay. Furious you look up at Megumi who was now indifferently drinking the last carton, that you had so openly claimed, a claim that was co-signed and notarized by Tsumiki. The absolute audacity of this bratty spoiled motherfu-
"Meg-" Tsumiki began to scold right before you exploded.
"You bitch!" you shrieked, you hear Tsumiki gasp at your profanity, but your anger was at boiling point with this broom haired kid. Megumi retained his look of indifference which furthered enraged you. Megumi expected you to get mad and yell at him but what he didn't expect was-
"OOF!" Megumi fell backwards roughly on the floor, as you tackled him, strawberry milk carton flying out of his hand, destination unknown. You're on him pulling as harshly as your tiny fists allow on his hair, he yells pushing you back but you're relentless!
"Calm down what's your deal you freak it's just strawberry milk!"
"You tripped me to get it you selfish brat! Even though you knew i wanted it!"
"You obviously didn't want it that bad! Should've been more alert!" he successfully gets you off of him, shoving you to the living room.
"Guys please!" You both ignore Tsumiki
"Ugh! You're such a whiny little bitch!" You lunge at him again with your fist ready,unbeknownst to you there's glowing flames of energy coursing through it,he narrowly evades it by moving his head. Making impact with the sofa, it splits in half, wooden floor below absolutely destroyed.
Megumi grunts in anger, his fist glowing as well ready to make impact with you, quickly you push him off and he blows a hole through the television and the wall behind it. Stubbornly you both make way to each other with powered filled fist ready to collide.
"ENOUGH! What's the matter you two!" Gojo catches both of your fists,pulling you two off the floor, holding the both of you in each hand, he angrily looks back and forth between you and the destroyed living room. "How did this happen! Why are you two trying rip each others' heads off and why is the living room a-oh?"
A lightbulb flickers over him," Well I'll be damned! You two finally managed to produce cursed energy,how exciting!" The older man hugs you both tightly, crushing your lungs.
"Too bad it took you guys trying to kill each other...which reminds me we need to have a little lesson on teamwork, and household construction you absolute demon children!" He gives a preview of your 3 hour long lecture by throwing you two into the hole you just punched in the floor.
.
.
.
After that incident you understood how someone so deceptively calm like Megumi was to be a sorcerer, he was crazy, a an absolute psycho you'd say. Gojo's words from a previous time replay in your mind:
"You have to be a little crazy to handle being jujutsu sorcerer."
Through a lot of exposure therapy, Megumi eventually got used to your presence, and actually began to enjoy it, seeking it even. Once you were both a little older and still around each other, he figured he may as well get along with you. It's not that he didn't like you (anymore) or found you annoying (anymore) he realized he was just used to Tsumiki, and didn't care for any more than that and was surprising to himself very combative to any sort of change. But he was making the effort to fix that immature side of him and be more receptive and open to you and gojo.
Despite that, the more missions you two shadowed, the longer you lived together and went to school, the closer you became and the tighter your bond felt. You became an inseparable pair, hanging out outside of sorcery and schooling, in your rooms, sharing hobbies and tastes in music, constant laughter and smiles were consistently heard and shared between you two. Witnessed fondly by Tsumiki and Gojo who had their own little gossip circle over mochi and tea. Strawberry milk was no longer allowed in the household.
This unshakable bond was like concrete, no matter the circumstances, no matter how terrifying going out on missions became and the atrocities you experienced, you guys relied on each other, minds and hearts in perfect synergy the older you became. Getting to your first year of jujutsu tech was something you both couldn't believe finally came around, now almost 10 years later, and your relationship was still thriving! Yuji and Nobara blending in perfectly to your small shared circle!
But now one person has began to shake that bond and making Megumi's possessive bratty habits rear their ugly head.
It's making Megumi regret coming to this stupid sorcerer school with the stupid handsome suit wearing ex-salarymen sorcerers who have stupid sorcery knowledge and wisdom. Who are stupidly caring and kind with cute quirks like loving bread, fuckin loser (yet megumi hates red bell pepper)
This thought process was pissing him off, and so was the existence of a specific grade 1 sorcerer.
"Nanami is so strong! His ratio technique is so cool!"
"Nanami is helping me with my precision and aim! He's so kind!"
"Nanami is such a gentleman, he tucked me to sleep in the car on the way home from a mission! A sweet handsome guy like him must have no problem getting da-"
"Alright! I get it Nanami is so great and awesome! You know it's a little inappropriate to have a crush on your superiors!" Megumi grumbles as he slams his hand on the table,eyebrows raised at you. What's so great about a guy who wears a suit to exorcise curses? fuckin weirdo
Your eyes widen as a flush takes over your cheeks, "Gumi don't be mean! I don't have a crush on Nanami, I'm just saying how kind he is and how much i've learned from him!" your lips form a pout.
"Really? Then why is your face red? Why are your eyes sparkling when you talk about him?What's the point in calling him handsome if you're not crushing on him! You sound like a love sick school girl!" He bites back.
You raise your brows and cross your arms,"You know your bratty attitude wasn't cute when we were kids and it's definitely not cute now! So what if I admire my mentor or compliment his looks! Yuji's complimented my looks and I don't see you calling him a love sick school girl!"
Internally he's kicking himself, he doesn't understand why hearing about Nanami from you is making him react this way. It feels like someone else is piloting his brain right now (or maybe his six year old self) especially when he utters his next words,"Maybe you should start hanging out with Nanami since he's so cool and special!"
"'You like me or something huh? Can't stand me looking at someone else!"You stand up, fists on the table, you lean your body over to Megumi's side of the table, face to face your (e/c) eyes give him a heated glare.
Now it's Megumi's turn to flush red, breaking his neck to look away from your intimidatingly beautiful eyes, his heart snaps.
"Are you jealous Gumi? Is that it? You want me to look at you only?" You inch closer, calling him out on his bluff.
'WHAT! Oh god.. no no no, awe shit...god damn it what am I thinking, beautiful eyes? I mean she does have beautiful eyes, and she's beauti- oh my god? She asked if I like her? I think that's what this is...heart pumping? Am I jealous of Nanami? Idiot. Why did I have to run my mouth like that? Since when do I lose my cool this bad nowadays?!" Megumi's thoughts race 100 miles per hour, body running hot from the interrogation.
"J-Jel-Jealous? What the hell would I have to be jealous of Nanami for!" His delicately pretty face twisted in confusion and irritation.
"I don't know gumi, how about you enlighten me" You smirk, cornering him like he's a feral possum, he's not getting out of this one unscathed.
He never really got into the specifics of his feelings for you, of course he liked you, or else he wouldn't stick around. You guys were so close it was honestly concerning to others and himself, you were his most treasured person (sacred one would say) He has been through major life experiences, and struggles with you, you grew up together. You had a domestic routine, a result of living together for years, even in the same house you guys slept in each other's rooms (and still do even though the dorms prohibit it) watched tv together, read together, cooked for each other, studied...went on outings... had matching rings ... matching sweaters.. and oh god is he already dating you?
That's not all, his shikigami adored you, you were there when he summoned his first ones, the divine dogs that he appropriately named shiro and kuro, and boy you were so excited to see them, the dogs took an instant liking to your adoration, and eventually you bonded with them they look out for you on missions. As a child that cemented for Megumi that you were someone he held dear and was 100% certain you had truly kind and pure heart if his shikigami were so trusting of you.
Same thing happened with his other shikigami; Nue would nuzzle into you despite his ever growing body whether it was after a successful mission or as soon as it was summoned for training, excited rust colored wings and a happy screech flocked your way. Gama and rabbit escape jumping on your shoulders in greeting or to rest.
When he lost Shiro and Orochi, you made him a pretty silver charm necklace with a snake and pretty white wolf, letting him mourn his fallen companions in the comfort of his bed as he sobbed heart wrenchingly in your arms and expressed his deep appreciation that you allowed him have something of them to carry with him
That memory is specifically one he holds so dearly, he remembers how much you reassured him that it was okay to mourn his shikigami and Yuji and that it wasn't his fault they died, and that this situation shouldn't make him jaded in making bonds with others; reality was that you guys were all still so young so to see one of you die was heartbreaking no matter how normal it was in your world.
looking back he feels that's when he began realizing his feelings ran deeper than initially imagined. It was instinct for him to protect you, comfort you and even just care for you in any way possible. Always making sure you were fed and hydrated, well rested, not overstrained, comforting you when missions you went on without him went awry, carrying you to bed when you fell asleep in the common room at the dormitory, or in the car on the way home.
If it was cold he made sure you had a sweater on before just in case or disregard his coldness by taking off his sweater and tenderly putting it on you (whilst grumbling and nagging for you to bring one, though Megumi would never admit so brazenly he loved seeing you in his clothes, that's his secret to keep.)
From across the way, Yuji and Nobara watch the spectacle going on at your table, it was very rare for you and Megumi to fight, you guys bickered for sure, you all did, but Megumi never lost his cool with you in those instances like he did with them. Usually if you fought it was over very serious things, like injuries on missions, mahoraga... the drawbacks of your technique on your body.. but never a serious argument on something so...stupid? Plus it wasn't in either of your introverted natures to display such a spectacle.
"What are those two screaming at each other about? I could've sworn I heard Fushiguro saying Nanamin's name a few times?" Yuji glances back at Nobara, his brown eyes curious as to what his favorite mentor had to do with your squabble, he takes a handful of fries while Nobara looks directly at her phone to take a photo, oblivious to her lack of fries.
"I'm thinking Fushiguro is jealous that his sweet little (y/n) has her eyes on someone else for once, but for him to throw a tantrum over a harmless crush on a mentor is a level of pathetic I never expected him to be on." Kugisaki stifles her laughter, brushing her auburn hair back, not so subtly eavesdropping on the argument.(not like she could help it, she's nosy plus you guys are hard to ignore right now)
"I could see why someone would for fall for Nanamin! He's a really a gentleman! Strong too! I'd feel threatened too if I was him. But doesn't he know (y/n) really likes him? They're super close like that" The pink haired boy states like it's a simple answer as any. Nobara rolls her eyes, annoyed at the men in her class.
"Fushiguro is emotionally constipated, he may not really understand that he has feelings for her because they've always been close, but because (y/n) is girl she's smarter and knows better! She's trying to get it out of him, twenty bucks says she gets him to confess by the end of today?" Nobara sticks her hand out to Yuji, he smiles a look for determination on his face as he shakes her hand.
"You're on! Twenty bucks says she gets him to confess here and now!" They both nod to seal their deal.
"What are you guys betting on?" A voice in their booth asks. The students squeak as Gojo makes his presence known, his face inquisitive and sly.
"That (y/n) is gonna get Fushiguro to confess his feelings! It's bound to happen!" Itadori explains.
Gojo sniffles at the response, sighing dramatically while putting a hand over his heart,collapsing wordlessly into the booth end face planting on the table, Yuji softly pats his teachers back for comfort,while Kugisaki rolls her eyes at the ridiculous scenes in front of her, she turns back to your table and gasps, phone falling out of her grip.
Gojo and Yuji immediately look up, jaws dropping in shock at the scene in front of them.
Megumi and you were standing away from your table,his hand on your waist, the other holding the side of your face as both your lips were gently pressed together, you on your tippy toes and arms around his neck. They witness the gentleness of the moment, both your eyes full of fondness,and affection as your lips separate. A pretty blush overtakes the atmosphere.
"Oh my babies! They're growing up too fast! One day they're destroying the house and trying to kill each other over strawberry milk then before you know it they're getting married!" Gojo babbles through escalating sobs, accepting the tissues Yuji's offered him and cries into said student's shoulders.
Nobara and Yuji share a questioning look on the qualifications of gojo being a parent and the nature of your childhood, Yuji comforts his sensei again,"Fushiguro and (y/n) are always gonna be your babies gojo! Honestly I'm j-just s-so I'm so proud of Fushiguro being so honest about his feeheeeliiiings" the pinked haired boy chokes through tears, wiping his runny nose on his uniform
Kugisaki looks at the two emotional men in disgust, opting to watch the romantic soap opera in front of her as a live studio audience member, smiling softly to herself, as though she wouldn't be as foolish as her sensei and friend to openly admit it, she was full of pride for you too! You'd been pining over Megumi for forever even though you weren't aware of it and you always described how you used to feel lonely until you met him and no matter what you guys go through you're always there-
"Those two are finally together I can't believe it!! I'm so happy!" the hazel eyed girl joins the huddle of Yuji and Gojo, tears flowing out her eyes. All of this goes ignored and unbeknownst to you and Megumi.
You smile brightly at the black haired boy, playing with the hairs behind his neck,"See Gumi, was that so hard to admit?" You tease him, he grunts, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassed annoyance.
He softly flicks your forehead, an old habit from middle school," Shut up... I didn't really know that's what that was...but now that you're mine, that means no more Nanami talk right? Or anyone that's not me for that matter.." pretty red flush stains his fair skin.
You giggle and kiss his cheek,"Hmmm I don't know Okkutsu is a reaaaaal cutie.." you pretend to ponder tilting your head in thought.
Megumi groans and kisses you again, more confident and stern,"You're an absolute pain."
"Don't worry Gumi you're my only and favorite one. I've always been yours silly." You wink, a pink blush dusting the both of you again. Megumi presses a chaste kiss, holding your hand and grabbing both your bags to get ready to leave for training after your longer than intended lunch, you're interrupted by a deep,polite voice.
"(y/l/n),Fushiguro, my apologies for bothering you both, I just wanted to quickly speak to Miss (y/l/n), here this is research I found on techniques similar to your own and information about its users.. I hope the information is helpful to you in your journey as a sorcerer." Nanami hands you a few books with various note tabs sticking out of them. You stare at it wide eyed, stunned and excited to learn more about your technique... and how much time and effort it took a busy man like Nanami to do...Seriously, what a gentleman...
You bow in appreciation,blush reappearing, "Thank you Nanami, I'm sure this will be very insightful!" the man smiles back and nods,"Of course, be sure to let me know what else you may want to know.That being said I've taken enough of your guys' time, goodbye for now."
Megumi scoffs, irritation palpable at his senior,"Tch. Whatever womanizer."He tugs at your hand and drags you away quickly to the exit and as far away from the dashing gentleman of a sorcerer. Damn...he's good.
As you're walking you smack his shoulder in reprimand,"gumi that was rude! you're always gonna be brat who does whatever he wants!" you're scolding him but it's in between giggles and the most loving soft gaze he's used to seeing in your eyes, now that he knows what it is, it makes him shy. He kisses your face as a distraction to your lecture (fat chance.)
And what could Megumi say, you make him crazy, he's always gonna put his foot down for what's his. He silently kisses the back of your hand like a guilty puppy.
he'll apologize to nanami soon
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.
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Taken aback Nanami blinks in confusion,"Womanizer?" he repeats. Megumi's vengeful words replay in his mind, unable to figure out an explanation.
He looks back at Itadori's table when the sound of rambunctious laughter invades the dining hall, confused hazel eyes hidden behind his opaque lenses.
"Why are you laughing?"
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I hope you guys liked my first work on here!! This was written on a whim with no specific outline (explains the inconsequential lore dump as this is one shot or who knows!!) hope you guys love jealous and bratty Megumi. As calm and collected as he is I imagine when hes in love so many emotions come up he doesn't know how to define them or properly communicate them so he says the first thing his brain tells him even when he himself knows rationally its crazy to say or think.
#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi x you#nanami is so cool#dad gojo#jujutsu kaisen imagines#megumi fushiguro imagine#strawberry milk is a religious figure#it was not water into wine
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MDNI - Ghost x reader - Age gap
“I am way too old for you, princess.”
This damn sentence, uttered with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, you heard it a thousand times. Every time you sat next to him at the bar, your hand lingering on his arm while you looked at him batting your eyelashes, every night when you left the common room, looking at him insistently, asking him silently to join you to your room, to no avail. And now, while you are both alone in the shooting range and you asked for his help, pressing your ass against his cock as he stands behind you to correct your stance, he whispered the same fucking sentence in your ear, making you shiver.
Simon is turning forty in a few weeks, and for him you’re nothing more than a baby bird, needing to learn life before you can think you play in the same league. He told you to date guys your age, but for you it means dating boys, and you want to date a man. One who can handle himself, manhandle you, and he is perfectly what you’re looking for. But Simon Riley is stubborn and nothing would make him change his mind. No means no…
That was a few days ago. Now ? Now, you’re replaying the scene in your head, looking at him with a smirk while he fucks you senseless in one of the stall of the bar’s bathroom. Not the perfect settlement but that’ll do. Because it’s Simon Fucking Riley, you’d take him anywhere he wants to. And damn, he doesn’t disappoint. Making you moan and smirk a bit more every time he hits your G-spot, mumbling words like “so fucking tight” and “you take it so well”. Holding you against the wall, his arms hooked under your thighs as you hold on to him for dear life, legs shaking because you already came twice. The look in your eyes is cocky, saying “Do you still think I am too young ?” - when your eyes are not rolling in the back of your head.
Too old for you, my ass. Not a single guy under thirty on this fucking planet made you see stars the way you do right now. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Not when Simon is buried so deep inside you that you can feel his balls slap your ass. Not when his cock is wearing the pretty red necklace your lipstick left on it. Not when your pussy has been dripping with his cum for the last thirty minutes.
Because you know you’ll have him again. The way he is growling in your ear, the way you clench around him, keeping him deep every time you come, the way you fit together like two fucking pieces of the most obscene puzzle, it’s intoxicating. Addictive. And it’s fine by you. As far as you’re concerned he can fuck you in all the stalls of all the bathrooms of all the bars.
It’s Simon Fucking Riley.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley call of duty#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader
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Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 2
Word Count- 3k
Warnings- Swearing, blood, canon spoilers
Vampires exist. So don’t werewolves and witches, the supernatural. This is what Elena had told me on the way back to Mystic Falls after our adventure with the 3 cannibals. No, not cannibals, vampires.
Flashback
“It’s true, Y/N. Vampires, witches, and other supernatural creatures exist. Those people who took us were vampires,” She motions to the two men in the front seat, “Stefan and Damon are aswell, but you don’t have to worry about them they won’t hurt you.”
“We’ll see.” The dark-haired one says out loud as he glances back at me skeptically. The look made me want to throw up but since my stomach didn’t have any more food to throw up I just stared at him nauseously.
“Damon, stop it,” Elena glares at him from the seat next to me, “You will not hurt Y/N, ever.” Elena continues her glaring at the man as he turns over his shoulders and rolls his eyes.
“Don’t worry about Damon,” Elena whispers as she grabs my hand, “I’ll explain everything you need to know.”
“Yo, you good in there,” Theo’s voice calls from the other side of the bathroom door, “I need to do my hair before school and you know I need at least 25 minutes!”
I let out a deep sigh and tried to wipe away the tiredness from my eyes. After I got back last night Theo bitched me out for leaving him stranded at the party, without a license he had to walk himself home. When asked where I went off to I made up some lie about sleeping over at Elena’s. Theo was skeptical since he knows the closest person I have to a friend is the 67-year-old librarian at Mystic Fall’s library, but he’s more brawn than brain so he didn’t think much more of it. I hated lying to him, With Theo and I being so close and age we never kept things from each other, even though he’s a pain in my ass there’s no one in this world I love more than him. After our father and mother divorced that bond only strengthened.
“Ya I’m fine,” I open the bathroom door and Theo’s usual calm facade breaks for a moment as he looks at me, “What the fuck happened to you? you look like you got into a fight with a squirrel and didn’t stand a chance.”
I roll my eyes at his remark and push past him to my room. As I grip the door handle a hand grabs my upper arm.
“Hey, I’m joking,” I turn to see Theo staring down at me worriedly, “Seriously though Y/N, what happened you look like you haven’t slept in years?”
I can’t argue with his observation because I know what I look like since I just spent the last 15 minutes staring back at myself in the mirror. I was too tired last night to take a shower so I just used a washcloth for the blood on my face and chest, then passed out. Or at least tried to, my dreams were vacated by thoughts of what is truly hiding in the shadows, now that I know what is out there.
“I just didn’t sleep that well last night.”
I try to get Theo to understand that I don’t want to approach this subject any further and thankfully he takes the hint. Within a split second the worried look drops and is replaced with a judgy look.
“Fine, but you’re going to need to change whatever it is you’ve got going on here,” He motions with his hands to my Hello Kitty T-shirt and matching pajama pants, “If I’m seen with you like this my social status will take a massive hit.”
My eyes roll and I shove a fist to his shoulder, earning a mocking gasp from him.
“I’m taking the day off today, I only had two periods today anyway. I’ll still take you and drop you off, be in the car in 15 minutes, or else you’re taking the bus.”
Theo shoots me a horrified look and gasps, “And make me sit next to those peasants! You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
—-
Eight minutes later we’re in my car driving to school. One thing I can always count on with Theo is that he will never do anything to tank his reputation. When we moved here a few months ago I was worried he’d have a hard time making friends and fitting in but that was my mistake. Theo is the most extroverted extrovert I have ever met and has a way of making people fall over and do anything he wants with a flash of a smile. Where he got the charisma I got the brains. I would never admit it out loud but sometimes I’m jealous of just how many people truly liked being around him. My only friend is the librarian and the only reason she hasn’t run away from me is because it’s her 9-5, and she can’t leave.
I pull up to the front of the school and Theo finishes putting the finishing touches onto his hair. As he steps out a group of football guys all wave and acknowledge him.
“My practice gets out at 4:30 tonight. Don’t forget me this time,” Theo leans down and looks at me with a pointed look.
“I’ll be there, I give you my word.”
“Great,” Theo smiles at me and reaches his hand over for a fist bump, “Later nerd.”
I bump his fist with mine, “Bye loser.”
—-
As I pull into my driveway, I hear my phone chime go off. Glancing down at the screen I see an incoming call from Elena Gilbert. My brain tells me to ignore it and go back up to my bed and hide away from the world until I’m at least 43 years old, but my body has already made my thumb swipe to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey Y/N! How are you doing this morning,” Elena's voice comes from the other end, I hear the sound of a car in the background making me realize she must be driving, “I honestly didn’t think you’d pick up.”
“Honestly I debated not to,” I tell her honestly.
“Um, well,” She pauses for a moment, “I know you’re probably very confused, and I don’t know if you want the company or not but I’m going to go do something and was wondering if you wanted to join me?”
I frown slightly at the question, “Why?”
Elena lets out a sound of confusion, “I just thought you might want to know more, or at the very least you shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“That’s not what I’m doing I promise you, Y/N. If you don’t want to come that’s fine by me, but I just want you to know you have a friend out there to talk to about this if needed. If you change your mind I’ll text you the address.”
I hum in acknowledgement and after a moment the call goes dead. I sit in my car for the next 20 minutes going through my head all the things I could do. I could do what I wanted to do before and hide out and be alone, or I could help Elena…. Hiding out seems like a great idea. As soon as my hand reaches the car door handle I’m reminded of how Elena defended me yesterday and fought for me and a loud groan escapes my lips. Fuck. I sit back, pull up the address she texted me, and pull out of my driveway. If I’m kidnapped again I’m going to be so pissed.
—-
I pull my car into the spot next to Elena’s car in the middle of the woods. Yep, I'm getting kidnapped. What teenager hangs out in the woods next to a graveyard? I pull out my phone and dial Elena’s number. It rings for a moment before I get a response.
“Y/N? Is everything ok? Are you hurt?” Elena’s frantic voice comes from the other end.
“What? No, I’m here. Where are you?” I turn around in a circle trying to catch a glimpse of the brunette girl but see nothing but tall barren trees.
“Oh! I didn’t think you’d come, I’ll be up in a second.” She hangs up the call as I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, come up from where? My question is answered when brown hair makes an appearance as Elena walks up a stone staircase leading to who knows where. As she notices me a small smile spreads onto her face and for a moment I get the urge to smile back, but suppress it back down and just nod at her in acknowledgment. She walks over to me and before I have a chance to react she’s wrapping her petite arms around me in a hug. What’s with all the hugging?
“Thank you for coming,” She releases me, “before I take you down though I should warn you it might be a little weird.”
Her warning makes my heart start to beat faster and a sense of nausea surfaces, I really have to invest in some Tums.
“Weirder than being kidnapped by three vampires, which I guess now are actually real?”
Elena processes the question over for a moment before shaking her head slightly, “I guess not as weird as that, no.”
“Come on,” Elena motions me to follow as she guides me down the stone staircase. I tighten the small sweater over myself once I realize I’m still in my pajamas. With each step down I fear I’m walking into something that’ll make me regret getting out of bed this morning. But all I’m met with at the bottom of the stairs is a small stone room covered with dirt, in the center the stone opens up to darkness and I fight the urge to strain my neck to look in.
“Did you bring me a snack?”
A tough female voice calls from the black abyss. Fuck, I really am getting kidnapped, aren’t I? I’m just about to run right back up those stairs and floor my Toyota Corolla out of this bitch when Elena speaks back to the voice.
“You’re not going to lay a finger on Y/N,” Elena looks at me as she walks over to the hole in the wall and sits down patting the spot next to her, “It’s ok Y/N, as long as she’s in there and we’re out here she can’t touch us.”
I frown in confusion as I drag my feet to where she’s sitting but as I walk from behind her I stop and stare at the woman slumped over in front of Elena. Or not Elena? What the actual fuck is happening!
“Elena, why the hell does she have your face, wait do you have a twin” I motion to the spitting image of Elena in front of us. She looks identical to Elena, wearing a dark mini-dress that looks like it would be easier to burn it rather than clean it at this point.
“Don’t insult me like that.” The clone throws me a dirty look.
“This was the weird thing I was mentioning earlier,” Elena explains, “This is Kathrine, she’s my doppelganger.”
“Correction,” Elena’s dopple-whatever jumps in, “She’s my doppelganger, I’m the original she’s just a cheap copy.”
Ok…bitchy much.
Elena just rolls her eyes as if she’s used to this treatment, “It’s a supernatural phenomenon I guess where every few hundred years someone that looks just like us is born. Kathrine is the vampire that turned Stefan and Damon a hundred years ago.”
I try to nod along but with all the information I’ve learned in the past 24 hours my mind feels like it’s going to explode.
“Is she stupid or something?” I whip my head to Kathrine at the remark.
“Fuck you bitch.”
Kathrine raises an eyebrow at my retort and shifts her shoulders upwards, “Fine, not stupid,” She slints her eyes at me, “Just slow.”
My anger rises at her insult and I am about to open my mouth to go tell this bitch off but Elena raises her hand in a stopping motion.
“Don’t listen to her Y/N, she’s just trying to provoke you,” Elena sends Kathrine a dirty look, “It’s what she does.”
I nod my head along and realize that these two don’t seem to like each other even though they share the same face.
“So is this some bonding session,” I question Elena, “What are we doing here?’
“I came here to ask Kathrine questions about why I was taken yesterday, and why Elijah seemed to have known you from somewhere.” I watch Kathrine’s posture change slightly at the mention of the suited man. Appears she’s not a fan of the man either. I sigh as I sit down on the dusty ground next to Elena, and can only sit there disgusted as she pours something thick and red into a little cup. Once the stench hits my nose I realize she’s pouring blood.
I go to ask her what the hell she is doing but stop as she uses a stick to push it over to Kathrine. I disturbingly watch as the dopplebitch grabs the cup with her pale hand and brings it to her chapped lips. The red from the blood paints her lips as her mouth opens slightly and I catch a glimpse of two white sharp teeth protruding from her gums.
“Finish the story,” Elena urges Kathrine as she flings the cup back to Elena. Kathrine adjusts her posture as she taps her chin in thought.
“Right, now where was I?”
“You were mentioning how you betrayed Rose and Trevor by killing yourself for your freedom, and ever since you’ve been on the run,’” Elena stands up and says as if it’s not the wild-ass sentence I’ve ever heard, she pauses for a moment in thought and I watch as a realization washes over her, “That’s why you’re here isn’t, to bargain your freedom to Klaus?”
Kathrine follows suit and stands up facing Elena, “Mmm. Five hundred years on the run I figured maybe he’d be willing to strike a deal.”
I shake my head in confusion, “Wait, who’s Klaus? I thought Elijah was the scary cannibal guy everyone was afraid of.”
“Klaus is an ancient vampire who wants to sacrifice me,” Elena replies staring down at me, she must notice the look of utter confusion on my face because she tells me she explain that later.
As I have no idea what the hell is even going on I just listen and watch as the two “not-twins” discuss the Klaus guy and the ingredients for the curse. Ingredients that happen to be actual people might I add. Caroline who I found out is now a vampire and not just some loud blonde girl that sits behind me in my French class, some special stone, Elena as aforementioned, and Theo’s football captain Tyler Lockwood, who surprise surprise is a fucking werewolf. Self-reminder to keep Theo away from him.
“Better you die than I,” Kathrine tells Elena as she questions how she can just hand over all those innocent people. Elena shakes her head in frustration and then glances at me.
“Is Y/N a part of it,” Elena gestures to me and questions Kathrine who picks a piece of invisible lint off her shoulder. Kathrine takes her time moving her eyes from the wall in front of her to look me in my eyes. Where Elena and Kathrine may be almost identical it is the eyes that make them different. Where Elena’s eyes are kind and welcoming, Kathine’s are filled with nothing but malice and something much darker.
“Why would she be? She’s human, and I already have my vampire,” Kathrine sends me a cold glance, “If Caroline doesn’t work out though, you can always be a backup, I guess.”
I shiver at the cruel chuckle she lets out, and Elena walks in front of where I’m sitting.
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Yesterday I watched as Elijah’s whole demeanor changed when he saw Y/N. He looked at her like he had known her his entire life.”
A small shift in Kathrine’s face appears for a split second before it’s gone. The cruel look in her eyes is now gone and replaced with something much different. Realization is what I can only think of as she runs her eyes over me as if seeing me in a different light. The corner of her lips tightens as she glances at me with an unexplainable look.
“He’s going to destroy you.”
That’s all she says as she picks herself up and strolls back into the darkness. I watch her back retreat as Stefan’s voice comes from behind me. I don’t focus on anything as Kathrine’s words repeat in my head. I must’ve been standing there looking into the abyss for too long because a hand on my shoulder shocks me.
“Hey, don’t overthink what she said,” Elena shifts me to look at her, “Elijah is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Elena’s right,” Stefan chimes in from behind her, “Kathrine has never told the truth a day in her life, whatever she told you was just to rattle you.”
I nod my head as I take a step away from them and towards to staircase.
“I think I’m going to head home. I have some things I have to do,” I lie about the last part, I just want to get out of here before another panic attack decides to make an appearance.
Elena nods and tries to send me a comforting smile, “OK. Well, can I call you later?” she asks almost hopefully. I just nod my head slightly as I turn around and make my way up the stairs.
—-
The entire drive home my mind is filled with thoughts of everything that’s happened in the past day. Curses, kidnapping, and the supernatural. Jesus Christ, this sounds like a bad TV show. I try to focus on the road but Kathrine’s last words to me keep ringing in my head. My breathing starts to quicken as I realize what that look in Kathrine’s eyes was. Fear.
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