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joelscoffeemachine · 5 months ago

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Festival Of Hidden Longings

Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

Summary: After not seeing Joel at the yearly festival, you find him at the stables only to just get caught up in the moment.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, slight smut, softdom!Joel vibes, grinding, slight language, angst (in the end), Jackson era!Joel, lots of kissing. So, so, so sorry if I missed anything.

A/N: pls, don’t hate me after this. hahahah. enjoy please!

part two part three

You didn’t expect him to be at the stables. You figured he’d be at the festival like everyone else was, but of course, he had to be the odd one out.

He was stuffed in the corner of a box stall, hoof jack planted in front of him as he slouched over, engrossed in his work.

He glanced at you, only for a second, his tongue poking out his mouth as he worked meticulously on the furry foot that sat in between his legs. The rhythmic sound of the rasp against the hoof filled the otherwise quiet barn, a stark contrast to the distant laughter and music from the festival.

He finally finished the particular hoof, leaning up with a sigh of relief, using the skin poking out his black t-shirt to wipe the sweat away from his forehead.

His face was flushed from the effort, and a few strands of hair stuck to his damp skin.

“Howdy.” He huffed, sliding his gloves off and placing them on the open stall door, the rough fabric catching slightly on the splintered wood.

His fingers flexed, revealing calloused knuckles that spoke of hard work and hidden strength, the air thick with unspoken words.

The smell of slight shit and horse lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of his labor.

“You are the last person I expected to skip the best festival in town,” you tease, giggling at your own comment.

He steps out of the box stall, slowly sliding the door shut behind him. The metal latch clicks into place with a satisfying sound. He leans on it, arms crossed with his gaze fixed on you, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You looked down at his light brown chaps, dusty and worn, also noticing the jeans hiding underneath, then glancing back at his face, tilting your head.

“Long day?” you murmur, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the way his shoulders sag with exhaustion.

He sighs deeply, hanging his head down low, the weight of the day evident in his posture.

You’d assume his old bones are just giving out on him, a reason for his shitty mood. Or maybe he actually doesn’t think that the festival you and Tommy spent days planning is the best one in town. The thought stings a little, but you push it aside, focusing on the way his fingers absentmindedly trace the grain of the wooden stall door.

A scoff escapes him, shaking his head.

The day went by slow, only now nearing the night, but if he said he didn’t have a bad day he’d be lying.

His shoulders slump slightly, the weight of the day's frustrations evident in his posture.

Hell, being here in the stables around these gentle giants was enough to make him feel at peace with the world. The scent of dust and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the horses provided a comforting backdrop. Besides, it allowed him time to himself, to think about a few things that had been weighing on his mind.

“Just needed some time alone,” he responds, his gaze finally locking onto your own.

The intensity in his eyes speaks volumes. “I do plan on going. Just didn’t wanna deal with them damn people.” His voice carries a mix of weariness and resolve, hinting at the internal struggle he’s been facing.

You raise your eyebrows, a small comforting grin creeping onto your face. It went quiet after a few seconds, being left alone with the blowing noises coming from the horses. The gentle rustling of their movements and the occasional snort filled the space, creating a serene atmosphere.

You sigh sharply, pressing your back up against the stall across from the one he leaned on. The earthy aroma of the stables surrounds you, grounding you in the moment.

“You want me to bring you a drink or something? I can stop by your house, get your guitar.” You say, furrowing your eyebrows with concern.

Your voice is soft, hoping to offer some comfort. The thought of him playing his guitar, the familiar chords filling the air, seemed like it might bring him some solace.

He shakes his head, letting out a quick ‘no’.

His refusal is firm but gentle, a clear indication that he just needs this time to himself. His eyes, however, soften slightly, showing his appreciation for the offer even if he can't accept it right now.

Joel was never one for parties or large crowds. The noise, the chatter, the constant need to engage in small talk—it all wore on him. He usually was able to deal with it for the sake of being friendly, putting on a brave face and enduring the social rituals. But tonight, the heaviness of the world seemed to press down on him a little harder, and he wanted to be alone, needed to be alone. The solitude of the stables called to him, offering a quiet refuge from the chaos.

“No, darlin’. I’m fine.” He responds, his voice steady but low.

He watches you lean your back against the stall he stood across from, the dim light casting soft shadows on your face.

He watched the way your eyebrows furrowed, knowing that look, that look of worry and concern that you always had when you saw him like this. He hated to admit it, but he enjoyed that look on you.

There was something comforting about knowing you cared, even if he couldn't bring himself to fully accept your help.

“Well, the least I could do is keep you company.” You suggest, a shrug of your shoulders as you try to lighten the mood. He lets out a quick chuckle, the sound echoing softly in the quiet stables, but you’re not sure if he caught the meaning of the joke, the playful glint in your eyes going unnoticed.

You and Joel were never exactly close. Sure, you had to accept the fact that his brother married your best-friend, and you’d crack a joke with him every now and then, sharing brief moments of levity during gatherings. But you two never had a full conversation.

Until now.

The silence between you was filled with unspoken words and untapped potential, a connection that had yet to be explored.

He doesn't say anything indicating that he had caught on, only taking a deep breath before moving. His eyes seemed distant, lost in thoughts you couldn't quite reach, but there was a subtle shift in his posture, a hint that he appreciated your presence, even if he couldn't fully express it.

A small smile appeared on his face as you mention keeping him some company. Surprisingly, he didn’t turn you away. It was strange, but not unwelcomed. The smile was brief, almost hesitant, but it warmed the space between you, breaking the barrier that had always seemed to exist.

Joel pushes off the stall, stepping a little closer, the scent of his musk and leather filling the air. It was a comforting mix, natural and familiar, grounding you in the moment. He stands a few inches from you, his presence solid and reassuring.

He runs his fingers through his greying hair, letting out a sigh, his gaze lingering on your form. His eyes traced over you, not in a scrutinizing way, but lust almost.

Maybe he had caught onto the joke. Was it even a joke? Were you joking?

The silence stretched, but it was a companionable one, filled with the quiet understanding that sometimes words weren't necessary.

You swallow hard, him being inches away somehow suffocating you. The heat between you is palpable, making it hard to breathe.

You look away anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.

His hand finds your jaw, tilting your head up just enough so he could see those pretty eyelashes flutter. His touch is firm, sending shivers down your spine.

“Joel..” you whine, and he gives in.

The feeling of his lips against yours makes you want to melt into his touch, the world around you fading away.

You instantly place your hands on his neck, one in his hair, feeling every strand. His hair is soft and slightly damp from the day's sweat, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

His long arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your warm body into his. The pressure is both comforting and electrifying, making your skin tingle with anticipation.

When he pulls back, you gasp for air, your chest heaving. One hand moves to his arm, holding on for dear life as he presses messy kisses on your neck.

His beard grazes your skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Each kiss is desperate, filled with a hunger that matches your own, and you can't help but arch into him, wanting more.

The moan that escaped you only encouraged him further, a small smirk finding his face as his lips left yours, trailing kisses down your neck, all the way to your collarbone. Each kiss felt like a spark, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't control.

Every time he felt like you weren't close enough, he'd hold you tighter, pulling you flush against him.

The feeling of your body against his nearly sending him into a frenzy, his hands clutching your hips with a possessive grip as he bucked his hips into yours, making you feel how hard you made him. You could feel his heartbeat racing, matching your own.

He let out a deep hum, his facial hair rubbing against your skin just right, eliciting another gasp from you. The sensation was intoxicating, the roughness of his beard contrasting with the softness of his lips.

You could feel the tension building, every touch and kiss pushing you both closer to the edge of doing something you'd both regret.

He sucked on your sensitive skin, earning sharp groans from you that echoed in the quiet room, each sound intensifying the heat between you. Your hands found the plush skin under his shirt, running them up and down, feeling the taut muscles beneath, placing scratches on his lower back that made him shiver and hiss with pleasure.

“Joel, I need you..” You whisper, your voice trembling with desire, he moves his head to look at you, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes dark with longing.

He wanted to give in. The way you looked at him with such pleading eyes, the way your hands felt on his chest, the way your touch set his skin on fire—

“Joel, the hell you doin’ in here?” The familiar voice of Tommy rang through the night as you ran and hid in one of the stalls, trying to control your breathing, your heart pounding in your chest.

A low curse under his breath left Joel as his head perked up. He tensed, knowing that his moment with you was interrupted, his muscles coiling with frustration, his jaw clenching tightly.

“Just takin’ a break from the noise.” He calls back, his voice deep, an underlying growl hiding beneath, betraying his irritation and the raw desire still simmering just below the surface.

His eyes flickered with a mixture of annoyance and longing, the tension in the air was barely visible as he tried to maintain his composure.

“So, you came here?” Tommy questions, eyebrows furrowed.

Joel looks around at the horses, then at his gloves that hung from one of the stall doors. Tommy breaks out into a smile, taking a step closer, close enough to playfully smack Joel on his back.

“Aww, I’m just fuckin’ with you.” Tommy wraps an arm around Joel’s shoulders, forcing him to walk out of the stables with Tommy.

You stay put, finally being able to catch your breath, your heart rate slowly returning to normal.

“Listen, there’s this girl I want you to meet,” Your heart sank, a feeling in your chest you never felt before.

Joel with another girl just five seconds after whatever the fuck that was? A mix of confusion and jealousy churned inside you, your mind racing with thoughts, each one more unsettling than the last. You stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as their voices continued to fade into the distance.

Tommy was the same as always, always the one to lighten the mood with humor and jokes. Joel didn’t mind it, but right now, he wished he didn’t have to deal with the jokes. He had more important things, or rather, someone else to deal with.

You could tell Joel shoved Tommy away from him, turning back to the stable as his voice got louder.

“Tommy,” Joel groans, his voice still gruff, “if you’re gonna set me up with another one of these women, it ain’t gon’ work.”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head, not taking Joel’s words as anything serious. The appreciable heat between the two intensified, as Joel's frustration was evident in every tense muscle and furrowed brow.

“C’mon, Joel. She’s been practically droppin’ her panties for you ever since you came to Jackson. Just—” Tommy stops to take a deep breath, the arm that he used to pull Joel back, falling to his side. “Do it f'me, Please?”

Joel slightly squinted at Tommy, the sound of cicadas and the loud music in the distance filling the air.

The night was warm, the humidity making the air thick and heavy. Joel could feel the sweat trickling down the back of his neck, mixing with the craving of your hands on his skin again.

The corners of Joel’s mouth turn downwards in annoyance, a sigh leaving him. His broad shoulders sagged slightly, the realization that he has no choice here hitting him. Although he knew that he’d eventually give in to his little brother's wishes, the reluctance was clear in the furrow of his brow and the tightness of his jaw.

“God damn it,” he mutters, clenching his fists at his sides since his chaps didn’t have pockets.

The rough leather of the chaps brushed against his legs, grounding him in the moment. He’d humor his brother this once, just to get him off his ass. The flickering lights of the distant bonfire and bright fairy lights stretch long shadows, making the night feel even more oppressive.

“Fine, Tommy. I’ll talk to the damn girl,” Joel grumbles.

His voice was low, almost a growl, as he turned on his heel and began to trudge towards the gathering. He could feel Tommy's eyes on his back, a mix of gratitude and amusement that only fueled Joel's irritation.

It went silent after Tommy’s loud laugh.

You moved slowly and quietly towards the door of the stables, peeking around the corner to find the pair gone. The soft glow of the moonlight filtered through the wooden slats, shadows falling on the hay-strewn floor.

A part of you wanted to sigh in relief, but another part of you ached for Joel. For Joel to finish what was started.

The memory of his touch, the way his beard had brushed against your skin, how his sounds sounded when he humped your clothed entrance, lingered in your mind, making your heart race.

You thought about going back to the festival, but the thought of being in the same room as Joel while he hit on someone else after his tongue was so deep in your throat made you feel stupid.

The festival lights twinkled in the distance, and the sound of laughter and music floated through the air, mocking your inner turmoil.

So, you went home. The walk back was filled with the sounds of hoots from owls and the distant hum of the festival, a reminder of what you were leaving behind.

The night felt brutal, each step heavier than the last, as if the weight of your emotions was dragging you down. You reached your doorstep, the familiar creak of the wooden boards underfoot a small comfort. As you entered, the cool air of the house welcomed you, but it did little to soothe the ache in your heart.

#joel miller x reader #jackson joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #hbo the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller story #joel miller fanfiction

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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months ago

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Whew you came in time. I’d like to request Wolverine (from the Deadpool movie in particular) with a very caring and affectionate s/o. Once again, my weakness for grumpy/traumatized individual x sunshine shows

Logan oftentimes wondered why you, someone so kindhearted and willing to do anything just to see someone smile, stayed by his side especially after everything he’s done.

He didn’t believe himself to be that great of a partner either when it counted but you’d always shone him that beautiful smile of yours and told him that he was anything but a bad partner. Oh how he too wishes he could accept that as the definitive truth but given how he had lead his life up until meeting you, Logan couldn’t help but think otherwise.

He had lost the ability to trust a long time ago and would instead double down on an inherited belief that he didn’t need nobody but himself, assuming that he was meant to walk this life a lone wolf he believed himself to be. Unfortunately for Logan he was a human as everybody else and humans more often then not craved connection, relationships and so on with other human beings.

Logan was no exception to this rule, no matter how often he thinks he’s not, but has forced himself to the point where he physically couldn’t stay within the presence of someone the moment he starts to deeply care for them. He couldn’t bear to be the reason someone else dies, regardless whether his part was intentional or unintentional.

So when you came into his life like a shining beacon, a second chance, everything within him told him to run away and maintain distance so that his bad luck doesn’t rub off on you and causes to to be sent to an easy grave. However you were rather stubborn for someone so soft and sweet that no matter what Logan did to put distance between the two of you, you were quick to close the distance with a knowing look within your eyes as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s okay.’ You tell him. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Don’t promise something you don’t intend to uphold.’ He replies as he then shrugs off your hand and walks elsewhere. He wasn’t going to make it easy for you, that you were aware and were willing to anything to make him see that you weren’t lying, but what you weren’t aware was how easily you had slipped past Logan’s guard much to his dismay and that made him scared.

He had already lost Scott, jean, ororo, beast and many more due to his actions, the wounds were too fresh to be ignored as their screams of his name haunted his dreams as they did his waking life. He didn’t want to add your name amongst the seemingly never ending graveyard that was his loved ones, past, present and future. And yet he couldn’t help but find himself wanting to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe and protected.

His body was torn in two directions on how to go about you, leave you alone until you see that he wasn’t any good for you, or stay by your side and make sure that no harm ever does come to touch you. ever.

You were there during every turbulent moment of his life, watched him tear things apart and show the ugliest side of himself in hopes it would scare you away, but all you did was step over the dead bodies and hold his face in your hands as your thumbs wiped the blood from his cheeks.

‘Are you okay? You’re not hurt?’ You’d ask and Logan would always be left a little speechless because how can you still see the good in him after seeing firsthand what he could do when tested. He was confused at how you could still smile at him so sweetly while clearing him of blood that wasn’t his, he didn’t understand what he did to deserve you.

For all Logan knew was that he was cursed and shouldn’t be allowed a happy existence but yet life sent him the sweetest, most kind and honest person in the form of you as what? Repentance for all the shit he’s been through? Like he’d ever believe life would ever give him a fucking break when all it’s ever done but take everything away from him, even when he was doing okay for himself.

He saved lives but the ones closest to him were taken away, and even when he does take lives the people closest to him still suffer regardless. So what was Logan meant to take away from that other than the fact that he was doomed for the very moment he could heal a gun wound as though it were a scratch.

However overtime and a fuckton of patience on your behalf and soon enough Logan was more reciprocal of your affection and care, even going so far as to give you his own affection in his own unique way that wasn’t grunts and unconvincing reassurance of his own well being. He had grown a soft spot for you but he didn’t care, he loved your soft heart and the sweet sounds you made whenever he felt a little flirtatious then normal.

You were slowly healing the wounds that his regenerative powers could not and Logan couldn’t help but be thankful that you didn’t give up on him, nor leave him alone when you probably should’ve but wouldn’t because you didn’t want him to be alone anymore.

He isn’t one for pda, the most Logan would do was sling an arm over your shoulder, keep you close by his side with his arm on your waist as he glared at anyone who was tempted to take his little sunshine from him.

You described him as moody, temperamental, stubborn, a pain in the ass and then called him a grey storm cloud on a sunny day. Many would say that they were all negative things but you’d then reply with ‘yet they all look good on him.’ Because it was true. They did look good on him and you weren’t about to express pride in the good you see in him without acknowledging that he was a man of many flaws and scars. You wanted to show that your love for Logan was genuine and real, show him that you weren’t excepting him to be the perfect man with the life he’s lived, and you hoped that he could see that he meant everything to you.

And he did see because you meant everything to him in return, he’d tear everything apart with his bare hands if anything were to ever happen to you and he wasn’t nearby to stop it. He was like an unstoppable force to be reckoned with that he wouldn’t even acknowledge the bullet wounds nor the blood, not until you cup his face once more in your hands and wipe away the blood on his cheeks like you have plenty of times before.

‘You sure are a mucky pup Logan.’ You’d say lightheartedly as though he didn’t just tear apart an entire facility for you.

‘How you aren’t fazed by this I’ll never know.’ He replied but was relived to see that you were unharmed before pulling you into his arms, where he held you tightly to his chest just to breath you in while you cling to him in return, happy to see him as you felt safe and sound in his arms again.

‘Well when your lumberjack of a partner is the temperamental type, it kinda comes with the territory to expect him to come home a little bloody.’ You told him as you burrowed your head into his neck and closed your eyes, only to squeal in surprise when Logan pinched your side. ‘For someone who’s sweet and gentle, you sure are a sneaky shit aren’t you?’ Logan said as he felt you silently giggle but couldn’t help but smile himself as he presses a kiss to your head. Happy to have been given a second shot a life, a happier shot and with you no less.

#mcu x y/n #mcu x you #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #wolverine imagine #wolverine imagines #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #Logan howlett imagines

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endlessthxxghts · 1 year ago

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Use Me

No outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈1.2k

Summary: You tell Joel he can use you in an unconventional way. Will he take you up on your offer?

Content/Warnings: No physical description of reader besides clothing. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Somnophilia. P in V sex (unprotected). Creampie. Finger fucking. Sweet aftercare. A moment of insecure Joel, but you comfort him.

A/N: Literally no motive behind this drabble besides the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about Joel (more than normal LOLL) in the past 24 hours. So, enjoy my delulus. Also… this Joel is one with no outbreak…but for this particular scenario, I’m picturing him physically as post-outbreak…do with that what you will.🥴🥴🥴

MASTERLIST

Joel’s coffee nearly spilled through his nose with how off guard your question caught him. “You want me to what?”

“Well, I’m not saying like every night or something, I’m just saying. If you ever wake up in the middle of the night, hard and wanting, you can…” your gaze breaks from his. “You can use me.”

Joel usually doesn’t have middle-of-the-night erections that wake him up and force him to take care of the issue immediately. However, with your suggestion being a lingering thought in the back of his mind all damn day, he finds himself, in the middle of the night, hard and wanting.

Your usual sleep attire is a tiny shirt with no bottoms below, and tonight, lying on your stomach with your ass to the air, you’re looking particularly tempting with the way his cock pulses when his eyes meet your glistening cunt.

“Always so fuckin’ ready for me, ain’t ya?” He groans to himself, debating whether or not he’s actually going to take you up on your offer.

But just like the unintentional ironic little fox you are, you roll your hips and let out a little whimper as you go, your pussy on full display to him, even wetter than mere moments ago.

He sits up on his haunches, walking on his knees to settle himself behind you. He brings his fingers to your slick entrance, running along the entire seam and to your clit. He circles it a few times. Your hips twitch in response, a breathy sigh leaving your throat.

“Fuck,” he rasps. He removes his now wet fingers from your entrance to rub it all over his cock, pumping himself a few times before he scoots slightly closer to you and lines himself up.

He runs the head of his cock through your slick this time. His tip catches on your clit and pulls another moan out of you. You’re stirring now, but you’re not completely awake yet.

Unable to tease himself much longer, he grabs onto your hips and sinks into you in one sweet thrust, your warm, tight pussy pulling him faster to the finish line than he was anticipating.

You let out a moaning gasp — you’re definitely awake now — followed by an already blissed out call of his name. “Oh, fuck,” you cry, your hands curling its grip into the bedsheets below.

“Shit,” Joel moans, his hips fucking into you harder now but maintaining a steady pace. “This what you wanted, girl?” He grunts. “Wanted me to fuck this sweet pussy whenever I fuckin’ wanted?”

“Ohmygod,” you rush out in a near yell, “yes, Joel, yes! Just like that, baby, fuck-”

“So fuckin’ good to me, sweet girl, ohhh fuck-” he moans, his hips faltering in its rhythm. His hand moves around your waist and to the front of you, the pads of his fingers finding your clit and circling it — just the right amount of pressure to get you to your finish line before him.

You’re a babbling mess at this point — his name mixed with expletives the only vocabulary he’s reduced you down to. “‘M close,” you’re able to utter out.

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He bends his body over you, his lips near your ear as he damn near snarls, “Soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, let me feel you.”

His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, but the desperations of his thrusts increase, harder with every pump. He bites down on your shoulder, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t finish before you, and the radiating pain and pleasure from the pressure sends you roaring to your climax — the room filled with nothing but the wet squelches of your slick and your high-pitched moans, loud enough to wake the neighbors.

Your sweet sounds sends him into a frenzy, his eyes rolling back at the way he’s literally slipping in and out of you now. “Gonna cum, baby?” you whine at him, nearing overstimulation but truly not wanting him to stop.

“So fuckin’ close, baby,” he tells you, he’s back up on his haunches, both his hands back at your waist, chasing his own impending orgasm.

You muster up some strength and lift your ass up to meet his hips, your back arching like a cat in the sun. You give him some pushback, meeting his every thrust as you make it a point to squeeze him each time.

“Atta girl, fuck-” he takes a shuddered breath, “‘M gonna fuckin’ cum, where do ya want it?” he grits out.

“Inside!” you blurt out, all your inhibitions and logical thinking gone from your brain as he fucks you into oblivion. “Inside me, please, baby, please, love feeling you inside of me- love having you drip out of me just for you to stuff it back inside-” you’re cut off mid ramble with a gasp, you feel his cock pulse as his warm release paints your walls, a rugged groan from Joel filling the air.

“Goddamn, baby,” Joel utters as he catches his breath, slipping out of you, but not going anywhere just yet. He watches your filled cunt, and in moments, his hot cum is leaking from your hole — his cock tries to jump at the sight of it. He takes his fingers, scoops up the residue, and pushes it back into your hole, fucking you slow with his fingers for a moment as your breathing picks back up, moans threatening to escape as your hips squirm against him.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he tells you. He helps flip you on your back, leaning down to kiss your tummy as he slips away for a few moments and returns with a warm cloth to clean you up.

He’s gentle with it, thoroughly wiping the outer areas while patting the more sensitive areas clean. You still whimper at the feeling, more so because having him touch you down there sends butterflies fluttering all throughout your body. “I got ya, darlin’,” he soothes.

“I know you do, baby,” you say as you reach your hand out for his face. He tosses the cloth into the hamper in the corner of the room as he leans into your hold. You pull him in for a sweet, lengthy kiss, your tongues tangling as Joel finds himself wrapped around you once more tonight.

You’re dozing off again when you feel Joel’s voice vibrate your chest. “Say that again, baby?” you mumble sleepily.

“Was this…was this okay?” he asks softly, sleep filling his voice but too much concern lacing it to allow himself to submit to his fatigue.

You grab his face again, lifting your head to meet his lips.

“It was perfect,” you smile at him. “Now go to bed, so I can wake you up in the morning.”

He gives you a smirk that heats your cheeks. “Goodnight, darlin’,” he mutters as his head rests on your chest again, dozing immediately.

My current brain capacity is telling me that I want to write, but I can't deal with really big storylines right now.. so. A bunch of stories on the shorter side it is - at least, for the time being🥰 I love you all, and thank you for the endless support. Also !!! Gif above is courtesy of @/nicolethered

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether! Xo

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

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“I’m a big fan” || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

GIFs by me :)

Summary: in which after Tom reveals that he is a big fan of you, especially after you’re a part of soundtrack of tbosas, you and Tom are caught being awfully close to each other a few weeks after.

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 643

A/n: Sorry I haven't uploaded a tom blyth x singer!reader fic in abit! I've got another one sitting in my drafts that I need to finish :)

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

divider by @pommecita

“Tom and Hunter on…. Y/n Abrams’ Hunger Games single” “So good. It's so good,” Tom says immediately. Hunter squeals, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I love Y/n Abrams," Hunter fangirls, a huge smile plastered on her face. "Yeah, I'm a big fan of her honestly. I hope I get to meet her someday," Tom has never mentioned you on the internet before.

Truthfully, he has always been a fan of your music since you first released your first album and has stayed a loyal fan. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a crush on you, I mean who wouldn't, you are Y/n Abrams.

So when he saw your post on instagram announcing that you were going to be a part of tbosas soundtrack with 'Can't catch me now' Tom was absolutely fangirling

Of course you were familiar with Tom but the two of you have yet to meet. You remember seeing him on screen for the first time when your sister had Billy the Kid playing on your tv at home, and you were hooked.

You understood why the girlies were head over heels for Tom, he was crazy attractive, a gentleman, and an absolute sweetheart. When you saw the interview that mentioned him, you were dying to meet him as well.

Little did he know that you would be attending the LA premiere for the tbosas and would see him for sure. “Y/n, any one in particular your excited to see today?” A woman asks as she directs her mic at you.

“Uh- yeah actually, I’m excited to finally meet Tom!” You couldn’t help but feel the corners of your mouth rise. “Really? Well I interviewed just a couple moments ago and he said the same with you!” Your eyes slightly widen as your eyes look around.

“I think he’s over there,” The woman points to the other side as you thank her before making your way that way. You were whisked into another interview before you could go any further.

As you were talking, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you jump. “Shit-“ “Sorry-“ You turn your head and was pleasantly surprised seeing those pair of blue eyes stare straight back at you. "Tom!" Your smile widens as you grip his biceps, his hands politely gripping your waist.

"Y/n! Finally we meet!" He chuckles as you could feel the rumble coming from his chest. "It's so lovely to meet you," You pull him in for a hug, all the while the camera still focused on the two of you. All though the two of you just met, you felt so comfortable around him, and he felt the exact same way.

"I'm such a big fan, Y/n," He says against the side of your head, his hand rubbing your back before you pull back. "Oh stop, I'm such a big fan of you too, Tom!" You exclaim before you remember you were still mid interview. "Oh! I'm so sorry," You sheepishly smile at the girl who laughed.

"Sorry, It's my fault for interrupting you. I'll see you soon?" Tom butts in, his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest. It didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable the way the two of you interacted with each other, it was more natural and familiar.

"Yeah of course, I'll see you then," You look up at him, you nearly stopped breathing at how close he was to you. "Bye, darling," He bids you goodbye as you watch his tall figure leaving. "No way the two of you met just then," The young woman asked, shock evident in her tone.

A breathy laugh escapes your lips, "Yep, it feel's like I've known him my entire life!" "It looked like it!" The woman exclaims as the two of you laugh.

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 3 months ago

Note

Some angst to fluff of himbo kiri finding out reader is pregnant?-🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Eijiro Kirishima x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Romance, Pregnancy, Smut

CW: MDNI!, A18+, PIV, pregnancy sex, oral, lemon, profanity

Link to My Master List

Well, shit.

You stand in your apartment bathroom nervously tapping your foot as you re-read the pregnancy test instructions. Plus sign means positive. Minus sign means negative. You grab the test with clumsy hands and it almost goes sailing into the toilet – almost. You manage to catch it before it hits the porcelain throne and you scramble to read it again. There, on the cheap drugstore pregnancy test, is the faintest of plus signs.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Okay – gotta think this through. Have you always wanted a baby? Yes. But are you ready for a baby now!?

Your mind whirs through all of the details of your life – steady partner? Check. Reliable source of income? Check. Decent living space? Check.

Sure, you’re a little younger than you would have liked, but to hell with it – you have everything you need to bring a baby into this world. So why the heck not!?

A baby! You’re going to have a baby. And not just any baby – Eijiro Kirishima’s baby.

You laugh giddily and race out of the bathroom to get your phone. It’s lying on the floral Ikea bedspread where you left it.

You click open your home and see your background is currently an image of Keanu Reeves from John Wick. Oh. That’s right – you had swapped our your usual background pic of Kirishima for this image last night. After you two had fought for an hour.

Your petty revenge on Eijiro has always been to change your phone background to a hot, skinny actor. It always drives him a little crazy – he hates to see you lust over other celebrities. Especially the slim, emo looking ones – it always makes him a little on edge that his big muscular himbo body might no longer be your taste. It’s petty of you, and maybe even a little mean playing into your boyfriend’s insecurities like this…but it’s really the only ammo you have against him when you’re annoyed or angry. Of all the things a person could do to get back at their partner for something, having Keanu as your phone background doesn’t seem so bad.

You swipe to unlock your phone and pull up your last conversation with Kiri. You know you need to tell him ASAP, but the two of you haven’t spoken since your blowout the night before. It’s not as if you’ve broken up or anything, but you both needed some space.

You think back to the argument. The two of you rarely fight, but this particular quarrel had been festering for months. Kirishima maintains in public that he’s single. He refuses to put you in the spotlight, worrying that in announcing he’s “involved” with you, he’ll be putting you in harm’s way. He’s put away so many villains over the past decade, and he fears that they would come after you as revenge on Red Riot.

For months you’ve been telling him you’re ready to take on the risk. The two of you have been a couple for 3 years now. When he refuses to acknowledge that he has a girlfriend in the press, it makes you feel insecure. Does he not take this relationship seriously? Does he not think that you two are capable of going the distance? In private, he worships the ground you walk on, but is that all just for show when you’re alone?

The night before, you had expressed these fears and doubts, practically begging Eijiro to call his publicist and break the news that Japan’s Sturdy Hero is taken and off the dating market.

Aside from your personal insecurities, you hate seeing the way that women endlessly flirt with Eijiro in public. They ask for selfies, wrapping their hands around his thick biceps and planting chaste kisses on his chiseled cheek. Eijiro, being the manly hero he is, always vehemently shuts down their advances. But you always wonder, if the right pretty woman were to come along and ask for a date – would he say yes?

Despite your anxieties, Red Riot is unwaveringly loyal, and would never entertain the thought of cheating. But that doesn’t stop the media from insinuating that he’s dating a new super model or Pro Hero every other week. You hate seeing him plastered on magazines in the grocery store, photoshopped next to a Top 20 hero with a nice rack and a thousand watt smile.

You think back to the argument last night, replaying it in your head like an old film reel.

You had stood in your tiny apartment kitchen, cleaning up after a delicious dinner the two of you had cooked together. Earlier that day, you had seen a tabloid at the mall showing off a particularly salacious photo of Red Riot after a particularly gruesome battle – half of his uniform had been torn off, revealing budging muscles and his dark happy trail that disappeared into his work pants. The image showed your boyfriend sitting on the edge of an ambulance as a pretty nurse smiled up at him and wrapped up a wound on his arm. The tabloid had a flashy title splashed across the cover “Red Riot Finds Love in the Field!?” You had begrudgingly purchased the magazine, bringing it home so you could show Kiri how ridiculous the media is getting, and how much it bothers you.

“Look at this, Eij. I have to see these all the time.” You toss the magazine in his direction and he catches it, smirking at the image on the cover.

“Wow, how did they even get that picture? I didn’t see any press at that fight.” He wonders, flipping through to the article. “’Chivalrous Hero Red Riot does it again – defeats the villain and seemingly gets the girl. Did we see sparks between the sturdy hero and the pretty EMT patching him up? Sources on the ground say he asked the emergency worker to dinner to thank her for her efforts.’ Wow, babe, you’re totally right. They’re absolutely making shit up about me. But hey – I do think I look pretty good in this pic, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow and holds the article up for you to see – you didn’t see this picture earlier. You had been too angry to look at the actual article. The image shows Eijiro standing strong in his hero gear – his arms are crossed and a confident smile sparkles across his handsome face. The picture turns you on a bit – you always love the way he has learned to own the spotlight, to look unbreakable in the face of danger. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so damn much – his confidence in tough situations. You know that it took a lot of work for him to get to this point – he used to second guess himself so much when he was younger. But Eijiro had put in the time and the work in building his self esteem and his hero career, and now he is able to save people with a grin on his face. You’re so damn proud of the strong, capable hero he’s become.

You push down your arousal and get back to the point. “Yeah, babe. You always look great. But look…the point is I don’t like the way that they are always trying to ship you with whatever woman is in your vicinity. It really hurts me.” You pause, looking away from the article and getting back to washing your dishes in the sink. You pass a wet dish to Eijiro which he dries wordlessly before placing it in your dish cabinet. “I want you to tell people about me – I want to be part of your life in every way possible. Babe…please.”

“No.” He says soundly, before rattling off all of the reasons why he doesn’t want your relationship public. The two of you continue washing and drying dishes together as you talk.

“But Katsuki and Izuku’s relationship is public! Kyoka and Denki! Shoto and YaMomo!” You say accusatorily, shutting off the faucet as you finish washing the final bowl. You shove it into his chest pointedly and stalk off to the living room. He dries the bowl and places it on the counter before following. You plop down on the couch and cross your arms. Eijiro is giving you a weird, stricken look. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation.

“Babe. I’m gonna say something that’s going to really piss you off. But I need you to understand if from my point of view. All of our couple friends…well, yeah they can be public about their relationships. Because they’re all Pro Heroes. And you’re…well, you know. You’re not. You’re a citizen who never worked to develop your quirk and you have no true combat experience. It’s different with all of them.”

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. “So what!?” You practically yell, hating to be reminded that you’re the only one in your boyfriend’s massive friend group who isn’t a Hero. “What does that matter? You think I can’t take care of myself!?”

“No, it’s not that. I just want you to think about the training we all have and the threats we face everyday. All of our friends can go toe to toe with the worst super villains known to society. So if some goon came after them looking for revenge…they would be able to deal with it. But babe…you’re not a Pro. I don’t want to get you involved in anything dangerous or scary. I need you to understand that and see if from my perspective.” He goes quiet, looking at you for an answer.

You’re furious. You can kind of understand where he’s coming from here, but whatever stretch of understanding you have is buried under pure undiluted rage.

“So your saying our relationship isn’t the same as all of your friend’s relationships? Ours isn’t worth celebrating and having public?”

“No, that’s not it at all! Babe. You are the most precious thing in my life and I do not want to put you in jeopardy. I need you to understand that.” He says pleadingly.

“I’m tired of seeing all those hot Pro Heros hanging on you and flirting with you on talk shows! I am sick of being quiet and watching other women fawn all over you like you’re some sort of man whore.”

“Y/N…you know that I don’t like getting that attention and that it makes me uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to set boundaries with my fans and co-workers and I do feel like people are starting to get more respectful about touching me. Babe, I know you don’t like that and I’m really pushing back when women get close to me out in the field. Please believe me.”

You do. Of course you believe him. But if everyone just knew about your existence, you’re sure they would back the fuck away from your boyfriend.

“Eij. I believe you and I understand where you’re coming from. But I’m so tired of feeling like I’m some kind of dirty secret. I’m just so angry right now, I don’t think I can talk about this anymore tonight. Just…leave.” You’re getting a stress headache. You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes in an attempt to stave off the pain, but it just gets worse. You walk away, leaving him sitting on the couch and looking upset.

He calls out after you, but doesn’t follow. “Y/N! I just wish you really understood why I want to keep this private. Please.”

A few minutes later, you hear the door slam closed behind him. You don’t text or call each other for the rest of the night.

But none of that matters now. That stupid argument is nothing - not now that Eijiro’s baby is growing deep inside you. You shriek with excitement. You need to let your boyfriend know ASAP. He’s leaving on a big mission soon, and you need to make sure you catch him before he goes into his next strategy session with Katsuki, Sero and Izuku.

You scramble to swipe open your stupid screensaver and pull up your contacts. You hit Kirishima’s name and let it ring, bringing the phone to your ear with giddy excitement.

The phone rings and rings. Finally, you hear your boyfriend’s gravely voice pick up on the other end.

“…hello?” He sounds annoyed.

“Eijiro. I need you to come over to my apartment…like, ASAP.”

His voice instantly looses its cold edge. “What’s wrong? Y/N – is everything alright?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean…I’m not sure! But I need you here right now. It’s urgent.”

“Is it about our fight last night? Because I’m still upset about it, but I am sorry if I minimized your feelings. I really can’t leave right now, we’re about to go and - ”

“Eij.” You cut him off midsentence. “I wouldn’t be asking you to leave work if it weren’t super important.”

He sighs, breathing out heavily into the phone receiver. “Okay. Give me 20 minutes.”

“Got it.”

He hangs up. It’s a mark of how upset he still is that he doesn’t end the call with his usual “Love you, sweetheart.” But you don’t care. You have a feeling that what you have to tell him will change everything.

The next 20 minutes are gonna feel like the longest of your life. You feel like you’re bursting at the seams with the news of your positive pregnancy test. You dance and twirl around the little apartment, using your frenetic energy to tidy. You clean the countertop and stove, flip through your junk mail and even fluff the pillows on your navy blue couch.

In a fit of inspiration, you scurry to your room and throw on your black silk dress. It’s sinfully tiny, with a slit running up the thigh. It’s by far Eijiro’s favorite outfit of yours. When he sees you in it, he can’t keep his hands off of you.

By the time that you hear his key turn in the apartment door, you’re fit to vibrate out of your skin you’re so excited. You watch him stumble in across the apartment threshold, looking world-weary and exhausted from a long day of mission strategy and patrolling.

“There’s my hero.” You say, running and throwing your arms around his thick, muscular neck. He catches you easily in his arms, his strong hands running down the smooth silk of your dress in disbelief.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” He mumbles into your shoulder. You laugh, giving him a squeeze before taking a step back from him.

“About that fight we had? It doesn’t matter right now. It’s irrelevant. I need you to forget about it.”

His eyes travel the length of your body, appreciating the way the dress hugs your curves. The slit up your thigh is of particular interest to his bright ruby eyes.

“Consider it forgotten.” He says, but he still sounds skeptical. “Now what was so urgent that you had me leave work in the middle of a strategy session? Bakugo almost ripped my head off when I told him I needed to come to your apartment.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. He’ll understand.”

“You sound awfully confident about that.” Eijiro raises an eyebrow, a frown plastered on his handsome face. “Must be something pretty important.”

“It is.” You grab his hand, dragging him across your tiny apartment and towards the bathroom. “Join me in the restroom.”

“Uh…okay.” Eijiro is flabbergasted, tossing his workbag to the ground as he follows after you. You pull him into your small blue tiled bathroom and push him down to sit on the toilet seat. Some news is best taken sitting down.

“Alright.” You reach into the medicine cabinet to grab the orange washcloth that you’ve stowed the pregnancy test in. “Close your eyes.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He sounds a mix of exhausted, tired and annoyed.

“Just go with it. I promise it’s worth the wait.” He sighs and obeys, closing his eyes and turning his face up towards the ceiling. You marvel for a moment at how – despite his manly himbo physique – he’s just so damn pretty. You hope your baby inherits the sharp curve of his chin and those glimmering ruby eyes.

You unwrap the pregnancy test from the washcloth and hold it out like an offering in front of Eijiro.

“Okay.” You take a shaky breath. “Open your eyes.”

Eijiro does as he’s told and stares blankly at you and the test for a moment.

“What’s this…?” He starts to say, and then it registers. The pregnancy test. The tiny plus sign.

“OH MY GOD.” He leaps off of where he’s sitting on the toilet seat and scrambles to grab the plastic strip from your hands. He holds it close to his eyes and then far away again, taking in the magnitude of what it means. “Is this what I think it is!? When? How!?” He looks up at you in wonder over the test.

“Remember that camping trip with all of our friends up at the lake? We borrowed Bakugo’s car so we could go pick up some pizza from town, but we ended up pulling off the road and fucking in the back seat before we cleared the woods.” You smile, thinking back to the fated trip a few weeks ago.

Eijiro’s face is ghostly white as his eyes widen in realization. “Oh my God – we didn’t use a condom.” He sucks in a breath.

“I asked if you wanted to cum in my mouth but you were just begging me to let you cum inside. You kept calling me “sweet heart” and the “love of my life.” And it was so pathetic and sweet that I thought oh, what the hell! Maybe just this once! And now here we are.”

“Oh my God.” Eijiro takes a few steps forward and then sinks to his knees before you on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. Even on kneeling, he’s just so tall. He brings his head down to rest on your belly. You tense up, unsure of what to say. Everything is still and quiet, and your nerves are on edge.

Finally, Eijiro looks up at you, his wide ruby eyes glimmering with tears. A shaky grin spreads across his face. “Babe…I’m so happy.” He places a kiss to your stomach before disentangling himself. He gets back to his feet and pulls you back into his arms. “I’m sorry for that bullshit argument. It seems so silly now.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck. “I just…” You hear him choke back a sob, his shoulders shaking. “I love you so much. I can’t even tell you what this means to me…I always pictured us having kids someday, but it always seemed like such a distant future thing. And now here we are. Sure, it’s unplanned and there’s a lot we need to figure out. But God, I feel so lucky.”

This brings tears to your eyes as well. You hug him back, breathing in his scent deeply. He smells like cinnamon – you’re sure he grabbed one of his favorite cinnamon donut snacks on the walk over from his agency. You snuggle into his arms and stifle back come joyful crying.

“We’re going to have the most beautiful family, Eij.” You say into his thick chest.

“Yes, we are. I bet the baby will have your beautiful eyes, and that glowing smile.” He runs his hand over your back soothingly, reaching across you to gingerly place the pregnancy test on the sink counter.

“I hope it looks like you – shark teeth and all. Can you imagine? Red Riot, Jr.” You laugh. “You’ll have a little mini-Kiri running around.” You both grin at the image. “I should start calling you Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy.”

This makes Eijiro laugh. “Hey I like that! But wow, Y/N. Just wow.”

He sweeps you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom and into your clean living room.

“We have so much to talk though. Hell, I should call out of that mission this week. We need to figure a ton out. Whose apartment do we want to move into – or should we get a new place together? We should do some financial planning, figure out childcare. What’s your job’s maternity leave policy look like? Shit, we’ll need to find a doula. Someone at the agency recommended having a doula. And at what point do we tell our friends? Our parents? Babe, you’ll need to build us one of your signature spreadsheets or planners or whatever, I - ”

“Shhh, Kiri.” You put a finger to his lips. “Babe, there’s plenty of time for all of that. Just let it sink in for a minute.” You’re wrapped up in his arms as he caries you across the room, holding you up like it’s nothing. Your Kirishima is such a strong hero, and you feel a fierce flame of pride flare up in your chest – this man is all yours.

You’re both silent for a moment, taking it all in. A baby. The two of you made a baby. It’s an incredible, almost unfathomable thought.

After a moment or two of quiet, Eijiro looks up at you mischievously. “So yeah, we can figure out all the financial and medical stuff later…but in terms of fuckin’…does this mean 9 months of unlimited cream pies?”

You shriek in surprise.

“OH MY GOD KIRI THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW!?” You cry out, your voice echoing through the apartment as you bat at him playfully, cackling. He leans down so he can capture your lips in a searing kiss. Oh, God. Yeah – he’s being serious. He breaks the kiss and puts you down on the couch lightly so that you’re sitting up and he drops to his knees before you.

“I think we should celebrate, baby.” He slides his hands up under your tiny silk dress, causing the fabric to gather at the tops of your thighs. “Ah, fuck you’re gorgeous.” He runs his fingers across your legs, leaving goose bumps peppering your skin. He peaks beneath your dress to see cute striped panties underneath. A hunger sparks in his eyes – his shark-toothed grin is ravenous, roguish.

He spreads your legs and scoots himself in between them, leaning forward to press a kiss against your clothed pussy. He brings up his hand and runs it across your panties, lightly circling your clit before tracing down, down, down.

“You getting’ wet for me, babe?” He whispers hoarsely, not taking his eyes off of your panties.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You tease. You’re rewarded with a light pinch to your clit that causes you to yelp in surprise. “Kiri!” He chuckles, using his fingers to move the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room.

“So wet for me, sweet heart.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss your palm. He takes your forefinger and brings it to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He then moves your hand to your pussy and encourages you to pleasure yourself. “Show me how my baby likes it.”

You moan as you touch yourself, playing with your clit and dipping your fingers shallowly at the entrance of your pussy. Eijiro gets to his feet and takes off his hero costume, dropping his pants and underwear to the ground and freeing his hardening cock.

“You’re putting on quite a show, baby.” He says, leaning forward to slip the dress’s spaghetti straps off your shoulders. “Now show me those pretty tits.” He pushes the fabric of the dress down, exposing your chest. Your nipples perk up the instant the air hits them. He pinches your nipples lightly and then kneads your breasts a bit, one in each hand. The dress is now scrunched across your middle, most of you exposed to Kirishima’s greedy eyes. He takes a step back so that he can begin to stroke his cock as he watches you go to work on your pussy. You bite your lip and look away, almost embarrassed at the intensity of his gaze.

“You warmed up a little, baby?” He asks, leaning forward to plant his arms against the couch with you wedged helplessly in between. He kisses you again, roughly, before peppering kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. He stops to take one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you cry out from the pleasure of it.

“Eij!”

He brings his body forward, guiding his cock towards your waiting pussy. You gasp as he smooths his thick member across your delicate, dripping entrance. “You make the prettiest sounds.” He coos, continuing to flex his hips to that you feel his length move against you.

You think he’s about to push inside when he pauses, his cockhead twitching against your entrance delightfully. “Can we do it now, though? Will it hurt the baby?” He says, concern tinting his husky voice.

“I did some research – yeah, we’re fine. Keep going.” You groan out, scooting your hips forward and trying to coax him inside.

“So impatient for me to cum inside you again, ain’t ya?” Eijiro taunts, rubbing his cock back and forth against your vulva. “You sure there’s room for one more in there?”

“God yes. Just fuck me already, Kiri!” You pout, straining to get closer to him.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says before easing into you. Despite your assurance that the baby would be fine, he still takes extra care as he slides into place. He pauses to let you adjust to his size, but after a moment or two you’re off to the races.

“Jeez, babe…I forgot how damn good it feels to fuck your pussy raw. I can feel you, so tight around me. Fuckkkk.” He takes it slow, shifting his hips softly so that you can feel every inch of his hard cock as it slips and slides within you. You relax into it, your cunt stretching to slowly to accommodate his size. After all these years together, you know each other so well that fucking feels like bliss. You can just relax into it and let him take the lead.

After a few moments of gentle fucking to let you get comfortable, he makes sure you have a secure hold on him. He scoops you up and, cock still lodged deep within you, he gets to his feet. This is one of the things you love about your big, himbo boyfriend – he’s strong enough to be able to fuck you in any position and he can lift you up with absolutely zero effort. His palms flatten under your ass cheeks so he can bounce you up and down and you mewl, leaning your face into his hard chest. Your legs are wrapped around his thick body. He’s so muscular and wide that you have trouble keeping steady. It feels so incredibly good to have him intertwined with you like this, you have to remind yourself to keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You like that baby?” He gasps between thrusts. “You like it when I stand and deliver?”

“Oh God yes. Keep on deliverin’.” You slur, enjoying every sensation. He chuckles and obliges, supporting all of your weight in his hands as he continues to move. After a few minutes of this, you can tell he’s getting close by the way he starts squeezing your ass and speaking nonsense.

“You’re my girl, you know that? My absolute number one perfect babe.” His breath hitches as his cock almost slides out completely but he manages to guide it back into you without incident.

“Sit down, Kiri. I wanna ride you.” You whine, kissing his sweat covered collarbone.

“Alright, babe. Whatever you want.” He turns and slowly brings you both down to the couch. You know he’s got a fuck ton of stamina from being a Pro Hero, but standing and fucking has definitely caused him to work up a sweat. You can see that he’s grateful to be back on the couch. He leans back and his back sinks into the comfy backrest of the sofa, and he brings his hands up from your ass to rest on your hips.

“Go on, baby.” He coaches. “Show me how good you are at riding this fat cock.”

You slide your legs down and settle so that you’re straddling him, and bring your hands low to rest on his strong, beefy chest. You lock eyes with him as you slowly raise your hips, bringing yourself up high enough so that his cock is barely inside of you. He watches you with eyes so full of love and attention that it almost takes your breath away. You circle your hips in the air, the head of his cock rolling around your folds before you slam back down on his member, sheathing him in one fowl swoop.

“Damn. Fuck. Y/N.” He throws his head back in ecstasy and grips your hips so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. “Christ you treat me so well.”

You continue to ride him at a near brutal pace. His breaths become shallow as he chases his high, sure to burst at any moment.

“Fuck! Wait – hold on.” He squeezes your hips and you come to a stop, puzzled. He bites his lip as he glances down between you at your stomach. “I wanna make this last. We’re celebrating, after all.”

You grin. “What do you have in mind, Eij?”

“Climb off of me and come sit on my face. Let me eat you out for a while.” He smiles at you, reaching out with his thumb to smooth a bead of sweat off your brow.

“You sure?

“The way I see it, once the baby starts growing it might get harder for you to climb on top of me. So let’s clock as much face fucking time for you as we can before that happens.” He says eagerly, taking a few moments to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Eij…you’re such a sweetie pie.” You tweak his nose as you move to get off his dick. He watches you rise up off of his cock, and he moans a little at the loss of contact as he slides out of your pussy.

“Don’t worry.” You say, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ll be back in there before you know it.”

He smiles as he helps you to your feet. “I know, its just feels so damn good to be inside you without a condom, anytime I have to pull out its torture. I keep forgetting that we can do this all the time now.” He lays down across the couch and gets comfortable, placing a pillow beneath his shoulder blades. “Alright, sweetheart. Come up and take a seat.”

Your clit absolutely throbs in anticipation as you climb up on top of him, straddling his face in a position that’s become so familiar. He wraps his arms around your legs and guides you down, swiping his tongue across your pussy with practiced skill.

“Oh, God, Kiri…” You groan, relaxing into it. He drags his tongue across your clit and down to your core, gripping your legs tightly to hold you in place as he takes you apart one lick at a time. You grind your hips back and forth lightly, shimmying against him in a move that probably looks more silly than pornographic. You don’t care, though – it gets the job done. You let him bring you to the brink of orgasm with his mouth alone, gasping as he sucks on your sensitive clit for what feels like hours. When your legs start to shake, it’s a surefire sign that you’re about to tip over the edge.

“Babeee.” You whine as you get close. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

Eijiro stops what he’s doing and says in a muffled voice “You’re so impatient, sweetheart.” You grind against his face in reply, and he laughs. He helps you climb off of him, your legs still shaky and uncoordinated.

You let yourself rest for a moment, taking deep, steadying breaths. You look up at your hero - his gelled up hair is now disheveled and out of place. He’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling at you. “Eating you out is one of my favorite hobbies, babe.”

You giggle. “Is it nice to be having sex while everyone else is at work?” You ask, laughing as he easily flips you over onto your belly.

“It is a nice break from a stressful job, yeah.” Eijiro gets behind you, finally pulling the dress down and off your body so that it’s no longer hiked up in a heap around your middle. He lays it delicately on the back of the couch. “Can’t have anything happening to my favorite outfit.” He explains as he smooths out the fabric.

He puts a large hand on your back and slides it up towards your shoulder blades, adding some slight pressure to encourage you to get down on your elbows. He hauls your ass up towards him and settles himself behind you.

“You ready?” He asks, sliding his cock along your folds, using his split and your slick as lube.

“Y-yeah.” You breathe out, body buzzing with anticipation. “Go for it.”

He glides back into you, doggy style. This is your favorite position, as it allows his big cock to hit just the right spot deep inside you. Once again, Eijiro takes it slow. He braces one hand on your hips, the other on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide against your belly, protective. You know he’s distracted – half of his thoughts are no doubt on the baby and all that it means for the two of you.

He makes love to you like this for quite a while - enjoying the feel of your bare pussy around his cock, reveling in every sigh and moan he can goad from your pretty mouth.

“Kiriii.” You whine, fed up with this slow and easy pace. “Faster, baby.”

He smirks down at you, releasing your hip for a moment so he can deliver a light smack to your ass. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you with practiced skill. He maneuvers his hips in a way that allows him to go deep, concentrating all of his energy on one singular point. When the tip of his cock hits your cervix, you splutter out endless praise.

“Fuck, yes Eij. Fuck fuck fuck, keep going.”

And he does – he hits the same delicious spot over and over and over. You’re overwhelmed with the pleasure of it all, tears coming to your eyes as you feel heat start to pool in your belly. Your legs are shaking beneath you, and you know that the only reason you’re still able to stay in this position is because Kirishima’s strong arms are holding you in place.

“You wanna cum for me, sweetheart?” Eijiro hisses between clenched teeth, concentrating on keeping his pace consistent as he pistons his dick into you. “You look so pretty when you’re all riled up and desperate for my cock like this.”

“Ah – Eij!” You cry out as your pussy flutters around him, you cum hard and fast. Stars dance behind your eyes as your body squeezes and tries to milk Eijiro’s cock.

“Woah – fuck babe!” He cries out in surprise, not expecting such a forceful orgasm from you. Your pussy feels like absolute heaven around him, and the way your walls squeeze and pull at him causes him to lose himself. He cries out when he cums, ropes of hot, sticky sperm shooting deep inside you. If you weren’t already pregnant, this particular fucking certainly would have given you a run for your money.

“Fuck babe. I’m gonna fuck another baby into you.” He’s groaning nonsense as he rides out his orgasm, head thrown back and hands gripping you desperately. The overstimulation of it all has you feeling full, complete.

With a few final pumps, he’s spent. He slowly pulls out of you, marveling at the gooey creampie he’s left in his wake.

“Babe…this is insanely hot.” He says, bringing a finger up to push his seed back inside of you. You groan at the contact, overstimulated from cumming so damn hard.

“Kiri stoppp, I need a minute.” You collapse into the couch, rolling over onto your back and shuddering as you try to catch your breath. Eijiro joins you, leaning back into the couch cushions and staring up at the ceiling in ecstasy.

“We should fuck like that all the time.” He says, eyes sliding closed with exhaustion. Between last night’s fight, today’s work, and this afternoon’s physical activity – he’s spent. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too, Eij.” You coo, you feel yourself slipping towards sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet.” You feel the couch cushions rise up around you as Eijiro gets up and onto his feet. “We gotta clean you up first.”

You hear the floorboards creak as he pads his way back to your tiny bathroom. Distantly, you hear him turn the faucets of your tub as he starts to draw a bath. You let yourself drift off for a few moments, content with your lot in life. You’ve got the best boyfriend in the world, and now you get to have his child. What could be better? You doze.

You startle awake when you feel Eijiro lift you off the couch and into his arms. You rest your head against his bare chest and hear his heartbeat against the shell of your ear. The steady rhythm is music to your ears, and you snuggle into him as much as you can. You hear him chuckle as he carries you off towards the bathroom.

“Babe…I think that maybe we should think about telling the press about us. What with the baby and all…I want to keep you safe, but I don’t want people to think that I just knocked you up with a secret love child or something. Not very manly.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “And as for the safety part…maybe I can train you up a bit, show you ways to use your quirk to defend yourself. I can’t always be around to protect you, but you’re strong. And I know you’re capable of protecting yourself.”

These words jolt you fully awake. “You mean that, Eijiro?” Then you add teasingly: “Being my Baby Daddy changed your mind?” Eijiro chuckles at this new title in a way that tells you he’s elated to be your “baby daddy.”

“Of course I mean it, babe. If anyone can figure all of this shit out, it’s the two of us. Ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.” You say, your brain whirring to process all that he’s said. “But I don’t mind keeping our private life private. This baby. This family – it’s ours, and no one else’s. Fuck what the public thinks.”

“I guess we have a lot to talk about.” He says, finally coming to a stop in the steamy bathroom. “But we don’t need to figure it all out right this moment.”

You look up at his strong, handsome face and bring a hand up to trace his jawline.

“You’re so beautiful, Eij.” He blushes at the compliment, flustered. You know he loves being called things like “manly” and “handsome,” but he has a weak spot for softer compliments as well. Your himbo boyfriend loves to be admired softly, loves your gentle praise. “You’re so sweet and good to me.”

“Heh, does this mean that you’re gonna change your phone background back to a pic of me instead of John Wick?” Eijiro leans down to plant a kiss on your temple.

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. If it would make ya happy.”

“It would.” He kisses you again. “You ready for a bath, sweetheart? I can do most of the work if you’re too tired.” You nod at him, eyes half lidded. You’re so damn sleepy. You feel like you just had a whole body workout and then some.

Slowly, sweetly, Eijiro lowers you into the bathtub. He moves slowly, letting you get used to the water as you sink down into it. The temperature is perfect – not too cool, not too scathingly hot. Eijiro knows you so well, down to your perfect water temperature. Your bum hits the bottom of the tub and you sit up, surprised at the mountains of bubbles towering around your head.

“I got a little carried away with the bubble bath mix.” He says, cupping some of the frothy suds in his hands and blowing them across the bathroom. You look at him lovingly – he’s going to make such a good dad.

You look up at him, grinning. You blow some bubbles in his direction before gesturing for him to join you.

“Get in here, Eij. There’s plenty of room for a family of three.”

390 notes · View notes

thedreamlessnights · 19 days ago

Text

Stress Relief

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader - NSFW

AO3 Link

Synopsis: During a drinking game, you confess you've never had an orgasm before. Gojo, your friend of a year, doesn't like that.

Warnings and tags: 18+ (and I cannot stress this enough). No use of 'Y/N.' Mentions of alcohol and being buzzed, but not during sex. Fingering, oral (giving and receiving), first time climaxing, facesitting, multiple orgasms. P in V sex, cumming inside, leaving and receiving marks.

Word Count: 7.3k

Your night starts like most of your bad ideas do: with a little alcohol in your system, a shot glass in your hand, and Shoko at your side.

You don’t know half of the people who are sitting in the circle around you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s been a while since you’ve been in a situation like this. That’s usually a good thing, but you need the stress relief tonight.

Even your slight buzz has some of the constant tension in your shoulders slipping away, being replaced by a pleasant warmth.

“Alright,” Shoko says, sitting up. You can barely hear her over the blaring music of the party. “Never have I ever—”

“Hey, what’s this?” a voice cuts her off, and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Your entire body goes stiff. So much for releasing tension. “Playing without me?”

“Gojo,” she says, her tone dry. “If you’d like to join, you’re welcome to.”

“Satoru, over here!” someone chirps, scooting over to make room for him.

But he plops down in between you and Shoko, stretching his legs out in front of him. Shit. You’re dying to look over at him, to see what’s on his face, but you know better than to risk that. Your eyes stay trained on your fingers, determined to keep your drink steady in your hand.

“Here,” Shoko says. Out of your peripheral vision, you can see that she’s handing him a shot glass and filling it up. “Now, then. Never have I ever… fallen asleep during class.”

There’s a collective groan. Your glass meets your lips as soon as she’s finished the question, and you can see Gojo’s hand rise, too. Then comes his grimace. He’s never liked the taste of alcohol.

When you’ve downed the shot, you find Shoko’s eyes fixed on you.

“Gojo, I expected. But you?” she asks.

Your cheeks grow even warmer, and you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or embarrassment. “It was only once,” you insist. “I was really tired from training, and… it just… happened.”

“Aww, Ieiri, give her some slack. It happens to the best of us,” Gojo says.

“Okay, my turn!” someone calls, sitting on Shoko’s other side. You don’t recognize her, but the pink flush in her cheeks tells you she’s had more than enough to drink tonight. “Everyone ready?”

You scramble for the bottle in the middle, clumsily pouring more. A little spills over your hand, wetting your glass and making it harder to hold onto.

“Pass it over?” Gojo asks, and it takes a moment before you realize he’s talking to you. Your fingers brush when he takes the bottle from you, and something hot and sharp shoots up your arm. You nearly drop your shot glass.

Damn him.

You can handle him when you’re sober, or when you’re next to Shoko—but he’s blocked you off, and you know he can read every reaction of yours. Gojo sees everything; isn’t that what everyone says?

“Never have I ever… faked an orgasm,” the girl calls.

Your stomach drops.

Gojo doesn’t move. Shoko doesn’t move. Great, you think. Of course. If you don’t move either, would they know you’re lying? No, they couldn’t possibly.

But… the point of this game is being honest. It’s no fun if people aren’t willing to take risks.

The alcohol buzzing in your veins must be giving you a temporary sense of boldness, because you find yourself tilting another shot down your throat before you can think better of it. Most people in the circle are drunk enough that they either don’t see you or don’t care, but you have no doubt that two people in particular have taken notice.

“Oh, really?” Gojo remarks softly, almost to himself.

“Wait. Hang on, what?” Shoko asks. “Who? The asshole at the bar that one night?”

“Shoko,” you hiss, trying to stop her, but she just keeps going.

“Or was it that one… what was his name? The one with black hair?”

“Shoko.”

“Come on, you can’t seriously think I won’t chop whoever it was into tiny pieces.”

“It really wasn’t, um. I- I mean...” You have to stop for a minute to gather yourself, sucking in a deep breath. “It really wasn’t their fault, I just…”

“Wasn’t their fault?” Shoko repeats, her tone sharpening.

“I’ve never really h-had one,” you stammer out. “So it wasn’t their fault that I didn’t. I don’t think I… can.”

There’s a long beat as they both gape at you. If you could melt straight into the carpet and never return, you’d do it in a heartbeat. Shoko’s staring at you, and you know Gojo is, too, but you refuse to look at him.

“It’s not a big deal,” you force out, giving a shrug. “It still felt nice, so…”

Just as you’re about to grab the bottle again, Gojo snatches it up, holding it out of your reach. “Hang on just a minute,” he says. “Am I hearing that right? You’ve never had an orgasm?”

And despite yourself, you find yourself meeting his eyes.

It’s a stupid thing to do. Absolutely idiotic, because the moment you look at him, it’s like he’s seeing everything. Every shitty night in bed, every small detail you’d prefer to hide from him, every embarrassing memory you want to lock away.

Worst of all, he looks so ridiculously pretty that you can barely tear your gaze away from him. His hair perfectly tousled like always, dark sunglasses perched at the end of his nose, blue eyes bright and attentive. The first buttons of his shirt undone, exposing his sternum.

You’ve been Gojo’s friend for the last year or so (and that’s mostly due to how much time you spend with Shoko), but it’s still a rare occasion when he gives you his full attention. It’s unnerving, and it takes everything in you not to spout a shitty excuse and bolt home, never to come out again.

“I need another drink,” Shoko mutters, shaking her head. “Something strong.”

She gets to her feet and you race to go with her, leaving Gojo with his unanswered question and the half-empty bottle of booze still in his hand. He’s smart. Probably smarter than you are. If he wants to know so badly, he can put the information together himself.

You’re almost expecting him to chase after you, but he doesn’t. In fact, you don’t see him for the rest of the night—not until the party is over, leaving scattered pieces of trash all over the carpet and multiple people sprawled out on various pieces of furniture.

You don’t envy the cleaning job Shoko and her roommate will have to do tomorrow, and you also don’t envy their future hangovers. You had your last drink hours ago, and much to your disappointment, it’s worn off completely.

“Heading out?” Shoko asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek. Her voice is still a little slurred.

“Yeah,” you tell her, giving her a smile. “I should really get to bed.”

She frowns. “You’re not walking, right?”

“It’s not far. I’ll be fine.”

She shoots you a look—both disappointed and annoyed. “Sometimes you really are stupid,” she replies, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to have to heal you up tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, Ieiri. I’ll walk with her.”

Gojo.

“Good,” she says. “Make sure she doesn’t get killed.”

“I really don’t need—” you start, but he’s already slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you toward the door.

“See ya, Shoko!” he says. “Drink some water!”

You can’t hear what she says back, but she sounds annoyed.

Gojo practically drags you out of the apartment and onto the street, and the entire time, he keeps you close and his arm fixed around you. Much to your irritation, he’s warm, and he smells like sandalwood and vetiver. Some expensive cologne, no doubt. You hate how much you like that smell.

“So,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed in front of him. “You never answered my question.”

That asshole.

“Really? Which one?” you ask innocently.

“Oh, you know,” he drawls. “Just the one where I asked if it was true that you’ve never had an orgasm.”

He says it casually, like the two of you are talking about the weather, but it still makes heat flare across your cheeks. “Right. That one.”

You’re desperately trying to think of a way to get out of this, but you can’t find anything to save you. He’s got you wrapped in his grip, and there’s nowhere to hide. You’re almost home, though—if you can just delay him…

“Yeah. That one,” he echoes. You can tell he’s smirking, just from the sound of his voice. When you look up, his face confirms it. He holds your gaze evenly, not a trace of shame. Not that you’ve ever seen him look shameful, not in all the time you’ve known him.

Warmth stirs in your gut, and you swallow hard. He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? There's no way he doesn't.

“Why are you so interested in hearing the answer?” you ask.

The corner of his lip quirks up. “How about this: you answer my question first, and then I’ll answer that.”

Just a little further and you’ll be free. Does he have to be staring at you like that? Does he have to be so god damn close? It’s putting all kinds of stupid ideas into your head.

“It’s true,” you admit, looking down at your feet. “Not that it’s any of your business, Gojo.”

“Is it?” He doesn’t sound particularly surprised. “Well, then.”

The two of you come to a stop, and when he finally drops his arm from your shoulder, you realize you’re standing in front of your front door. You should dash inside and forget any of this ever happened. Wake up tomorrow, and rinse him out of your thoughts, and go on with your life.

But that’s wishful thinking, knowing you. He’d still be on your mind. He always is.

You know it’s stupid of you to want him like this. There’s no guarantee that he’ll be any different than the rest. No guarantee that he actually wants you back, or that this isn’t just petty flirting to get under your skin. Still, you can't quite find it in yourself to turn him away without even trying.

And if anyone is going to be different than the rest...

“Y-you didn’t answer my question,” you tell him, anxiously fidgeting with the bottom of your skirt.

“I didn’t?” he asks, tilting his head. “Must have slipped my mind.” He pulls off his sunglasses and steps closer. Even though he’s not touching you anymore, his eyes might as well be pinning you to the wood behind you. “I asked because that’s quite the injustice for someone as pretty as you are.”

You’re suddenly very thankful for the door at your back, because your knees feel like they’re giving out.

“And, to be honest?” he continues, taking another step toward you. “That upsets me.”

“Gojo,” you murmur, trying to remember a single reason that you shouldn’t grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him inside. There were so many just a few seconds ago, but you can’t seem to find any of them anymore.

“Satoru,” he corrects.

“Satoru.” It comes out breathy and weak, but he smiles at the sound of it.

“Well?” he asks, bringing his hands up to the door on your sides. Caging you in. “Were you planning to let me in any time soon?” His next words are delivered next to your ear, so close that you can feel his breath ghosting your skin. “I mean, I’m happy to fuck you out here, if that’s what you want—”

Now you really do grab him by the collar and yank him inside.

He doesn’t waste a second before he has you pressed against the wall, taking your face in his hands and kissing you.

God, for all his ego, he really does meet the mark. His lips are soft, and he smells so damn good, and when you get bold and tangle your fingers in his hair, it’s smooth and silky. You give an experimental tug, and he groans into your mouth.

White-hot arousal floods down your spine. For a moment, you think you might crumple to the ground.

Then one of his hands moves to your jaw, tilting your head to the side so he can kiss down your neck, and fuck, it’s incredible. He nips at the sweet spot behind your ear, and you find yourself letting out a soft, needy sound that he hums in response to.

If he really does manage to make you come, it’ll be ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous, because you can’t even count the number of nights you spent hours just trying to get yourself close and failing miserably. He can’t possibly be good at everything.

But his knee slides between your legs, and you honestly start to debate grinding against it for some relief. It’s pathetic.

“To the bedroom?” he asks, pulling away. He’s breathless; you’ve never heard that before.

“Bedroom,” you confirm, taking him by the hand and pulling him further into the house. When the two of you get in, you fall back onto the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows and shifting backward.

You just have the mind to be embarrassed about the multiple plushies on your sheets, shoving them aside as quickly as you can, before he's crawling over you and grinning.

“Cute,” he says. Then he straddles your hips with his thighs, sliding his fingers under your shirt and starting to peel it up. It comes off easily, leaving you in your bra, your chest heaving as you stare up at him. One nimble movement from him, and the bra is off, too, being tossed to the side.

This is insane. All of this. How is it possible that Satoru’s kissed you, and wants you, and is in your bedroom taking off your clothes? His eyes sweep over you and you squirm, suddenly self-conscious. He could have anyone he wanted—why you? What if you aren’t what he thought?

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, tracing a hand from your sternum down to your navel. His eyes are darker than usual, pupils dilated, and you can swear that his cheeks are the slightest bit flushed. “Even better than I imagined.”

“Satoru,” you whimper, and he grins.

“Relax,” he instructs, but he’s pushing your skirt up around your waist, and you know you must be absolutely fucking soaked, and how the hell are you supposed to relax?

He tilts his head, admiring the sight of you as he drags a slow finger over the front of the thong you’re wearing. You’re definitely soaked.

“Wow,” he says. “You know, I’ve barely even touched you, but I think you might already be ready for me.”

At the sound of his words, you clench around nothing. He must be able to tell, because the smug smile he’s wearing widens. That cocky bastard. He’s still fully dressed.

You reach up to tug at the bottom of his shirt, but he’s faster than you—his free hand closes around your wrist and holds it above your head.

“Oh no you don’t,” he chides. “Your job is to relax, remember?”

You’re ready to launch into the argument that seeing him with his clothes off will most certainly help you come, but he starts shifting downward and leans in to kiss you again, releasing your wrist to cradle your cheek with one hand and drift the other across your chest. Every coherent thought you have melts away, replaced by the feeling of his hands on your body.

You’re just considering begging for more when he pulls away, kissing down your jaw. His mouth is hot, and everywhere his lips touch seems to light you on fire: your neck, your collarbones, your chest.

He pauses, and his breath tickles against your skin before he slowly trails his tongue around a nipple. You shudder and bury your hand in his hair, tugging and trying to get him to go a little faster, but he ignores your efforts and takes his sweet time—licking, kissing, nipping—until you’re certain he’s trying to cover every free inch of your skin.

Then, finally, his mouth starts to trail lower.

Just when he’s about to reach the place you most want him, he pulls away. Completely away, straddling your hips again and leaning his weight back onto his heels. Maybe he really does want you to beg.

At least, that’s what you think until you see the expression on his face. He’s not smiling—not teasing. Instead, his brow is furrowed, and he’s studying you with a look in his eyes that you’ve only seen in rare moments, during training.

Concentration.

He slips two fingers under the waistband of your thong and starts to pull it down, urging your hip up with his other hand until the fabric peels away from you. Then he moves a thumb to your clit and starts to rub slow, agonizing circles, and shit. You can hardly breathe.

It’s good—really fucking good, better than you’ve ever been able to do for yourself—but he’s dragging it out.

No one’s ever taken their time with you like this before, and everything about it is just… fucking overwhelming. The way he’s looking at you, the growing pleasure between your legs, the smell of him that seems to have bled into your sheets.

You can’t even squirm, because his weight on top of you is keeping you pressed into the mattress. His movements are almost lazy, but he’s watching your face attentively and taking note of your reactions to everything he’s doing.

It’s so nerve-wracking that you’re tempted to drape an arm over your face just to get a break. The only reason you don’t is because you get the feeling he won’t like that, and you don't want to risk anything.

And then, right as you’re actually starting to lose yourself in his touch, it happens. Just like it always does. The moment you feel at all close to the edge, the moment when pleasure is coiling in your gut and spreading and building into something more, it snaps. A rope pulled taut, cut in two.

You’re left with nothing but frustration and numbness, right back where you started.

Satoru stops touching you, and it takes a few seconds for you to swallow down your disappointment before you can meet his eyes. It had seemed like it’d be different this time. You’d hoped it’d be different.

When you do look up, though, Satoru’s just… smiling. Like he’d expected it, and isn't the least bit phased.

What the fuck? you think, staring at him.

“Like I said. Relax,” he tells you, and you really could punch him for that.

But then he lays a hand over your abdomen and applies a little pressure, and he’s right. You’re ridiculously tense. You force yourself to relax, and as soon as the tension under his hand releases, the pressure starts feeling… nice. Really nice.

“Good. Like that,” he says. “Breathe.” Then he shifts, and his weight on you eases. “Spread your legs for me,” he instructs.

When you do, he positions himself between your thighs. “Good girl,” he murmurs. You clench around nothing, and his smile widens. You’re waiting for him to start taking off his clothes, but he doesn't. His other hand returns to your clit, and you have to fight to keep your body from instantly tensing up again.

Breathe, you tell yourself. You’re not even sure it’s doing anything, but you do it anyway.

It’s not like he’s making it easy for you, though. He’s touching you like he has all the time in the world. It’s good, but you really wish he would speed up or press harder or something. You should have known that Satoru, of all people, would tease you.

Asshole.

Deep breaths.

Just when you’ve started to get the hang of breathing and relaxing, he slides two fingers inside you and everything you’ve been doing goes out the window.

It’s agony. It’s bliss. It feels so fucking good that it almost hurts, but it's not enough. And the moment you go tense again, he stops.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Your body relaxes little by little, and he goes back to what he’d been doing. Slipping his fingers inside you, tilting them until they’re brushing against a spot that has you seeing stars, sliding them in and out as your muscles fight to go tense. His thumb is still circling your clit.

“F-Fuck,” you choke out, grinding into his hand.

Your eyes flutter closed and it’s all you can do to keep breathing. In and out, no tension, relax. You’re so focused on it that you don't notice you’re approaching the edge until it’s too late.

You clench around his fingers and come so fucking hard that you forget how to think.

Through your haze, you’re distantly aware of a few different things. Your ears are ringing. Your back is arching off the bed. You’ve completely stopped breathing, and you’re not sure you’ll remember how.

The pleasure comes in hot, intense waves—ebbing and flowing, drifting you down from your climax until you finally come back to your body. And with your post-orgasm riddled mind, you can only think of one thing to say:

“Holy shit.”

It comes out half broken, strangled. You’re laughing, almost delirious. Your mouth is dry. His fingers are still inside you, and they haven't stopped moving. You can’t decide if you want him to stop.

“What was that?” he asks, his voice dripping with self-satisfaction. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Shut up, Gojo,” you mumble, but you’ve already started grinding into his hand again.

“Satoru.”

“Sh-Shut up, Satoru.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he purrs. “I just might.”

His fingers leave you, and you nearly sob at the loss until your eyes fly open and you find him sucking them into his mouth and licking them clean, holding your gaze the entire time.

A shiver runs down your spine. You think you might even stop breathing again, but you can’t be sure.

Before you can think of how the hell you’re going to respond to that, he’s back at your navel, repositioning himself and kissing lower and lower down until you’re convinced that he’s going to stop. Surely he’s not about to do what you’re thinking he’ll do. He’ll pull away, just like he had before. Right?

Then the warmth of his mouth closes over your clit and you gasp, your thighs snapping together on instinct. He takes hold of them, lightning-fast, holds them apart and moans at the taste of you, and you immediately lose the ability to think.

Your fingers tangle in his hair. One of his hands comes up to press down on your abdomen again. Your skirt is still fanned out around your waist. You’re starting to wonder if you might be dreaming; you have to be dreaming.

But dreaming or not, the pleasure is building again, and your back is starting to arch, and it’s far too soon to be here again with how long it took you the first time but there’s no stopping it now.

He holds you down as you come, letting out another moan as you shudder and pant and make sounds you didn't even know you could make. All of this is only going to add to his ego, but—well, what are you supposed to do?

And Gojo must be crazy, because he just keeps going. It’s not that you mind, but you’re desperate to reciprocate. You still haven't done anything to him. With all the nights you’ve spent secretly wanting this, you’ll never forgive yourself if you don't get to touch him.

“Satoru,” you whine, tugging at his hair.

He gives a small noise of complaint and finally pulls away. “Fuck,” he gasps, reaching up to unzip your skirt with one nimble movement. “Need you to sit on my fucking face.”

“What?”

He’s already trying to get you to move, urging you to sit up before stripping you completely naked.

“You haven't even taken off your shirt,” you protest, attempting to scoot away.

He rips his shirt off so fast you think he might actually have torn it. One of the buttons pops off and rolls across the floor, but you barely hear it.

You’re too busy staring at the sight of porcelain skin, soft and warm when you reach out to touch him, muscles tugging under your fingers as he moves.

While you’re distracted, he takes the opportunity to pull you onto his lap, and it immediately becomes clear that he’s so hard it must hurt. There's something animalistic in his eyes, and you want it, want what he’s asking for. You also want to touch him so badly that you think you might die.

“Satoru—”

But he’s already lying on his back, shifting down until he’s settled under your thighs. He nips at the delicate flesh there, sinking his teeth in until you’re sure it’s going to leave a mark. “Sit on my face,” he mumbles.

And God help you, you do.

He instantly gives an appreciative hum, and the vibration has you squirming, hips stuttering. One of his hands comes up to grab your ass, encouraging you to grind against him. When you do, he groans. His mouth starts moving faster, and it’s almost more than you can take.

You’re starting to get lost in a haze again. A thick, pleasurable haze that’s clouding your vision and making it hard to breathe.

You’ve had a couple men go down on you in the past, but it was nothing like this. If anything, it felt it was a chore for them—an incentive to get a blowjob, and nothing more.

How the fuck is Satoru Gojo the one who makes it feel like he actually wants you? You should be the one begging for his attention, desperate to get a night with him. And yet, here you are, being eaten out like he’s fucking starved, growing closer and closer to your third orgasm of the night.

You can’t take it anymore. Even though you’re panting, one of your hands trails back to run along his chest, settling briefly over his heart and feeling the way it’s pounding before moving further down.

It’s an awkward reach, but you’re determined to touch him. You need to fucking touch him. He’s still hard, and it has to be painful, and you want to see the way he looks when he’s getting off.

But the moment you start to palm him through his pants, he pauses, kissing up your thigh. “Stop that,” he says breathlessly, punctuating the words with a soft bite.

“But—”

Another nip, a little harder. “I’ll fuck you once you’ve come on my face.”

Fuck, you think. Why’d he have to say it like that?

You’re still tempted to keep touching him, but he’s stubborn. It’ll probably be faster to do what he asks rather than try to argue with him. You reluctantly pull your arm back, and he continues what he’d been doing before.

Eating you out. Very enthusiastically.

You shudder into your next climax within minutes, tugging at his hair as you do, vision blacking out, and he doesn't pull back until your hips are quite literally jerking away from his touch.

He places one last lick on your clit and shifts out from under you, sitting up. As soon as he does, you’re yanking him close and kissing him, straddling his lap with your thighs. You can feel him laugh against your lips, but you don’t even care anymore. You need him, need to fucking touch him, need to hear him.

Then you start kissing down his throat, and his jaw clenches, and he inhales sharp and deep. I fucking knew it, you think. He’s just as affected as you are.

When you dig your teeth into the skin, his breathing hitches and he tilts his head back, giving you more access. On impulse, you drag your tongue up his neck and he groans.

It’s driving you crazy, not having him where you want him. Should you go slow? Tease him? Do you have the patience for that? Your hands, or your mouth?

You tug his belt off with trembling fingers, tossing it to the side, unbuttoning his pants as fast as you can.

“Got somewhere to be?” he asks, tilting his head.

On your cock, you think, shoving his pants down as far as you can. You give him a look, waiting. He huffs, then pulls them the rest of the way off.

Jesus, he’s hard for you. Even through his boxers, you can tell he must be desperate for some relief. Your lips find his on impulse, and he grips the back of your neck, licking into your mouth.

His other hand settles on your waist, urging you down on top of him until you can feel his hardened cock under you. He grinds his hips up into you, and his grip tightens. “Fuck,” he whispers, so soft you barely hear it.

It feels so good you’re almost tempted to let him take over—almost. You’ll be damned if you don’t have your way with him, even just for a little bit.

Placing your hands on his chest, you gently push him back, and you just catch a flash of the confusion on his face before you’re back at his jaw, trailing your lips down and over his collarbone, placing feather-light kisses down his chest.

Then you shift off of him and out of his hold. “Take these off,” you tell him, tugging at his boxers. While you’re waiting for him to comply, you push off the bed and kneel next to the edge, watching him expectantly.

But he doesn't move. The boxers stay on.

“What’re you up to?” he asks. “Planning to put that pretty mouth of yours to good use?”

“Yes,” you tell him. “Now get naked and come over here.”

He grins, and it’s so boyish, so charming that you almost don't hear the next words. “Say please and I’ll consider it.”

You blink at him for a moment, almost thinking that he’s joking. But he's not. He's looking at you, waiting for you to beg.

And damn it, you’re actually going to.

“Please.” It comes out airy, softer than you meant it to be.

“Oh, don't be shy now,” he purrs. “Let me hear you.”

“Please,” you repeat, louder this time, forcing yourself to keep your eyes locked on his face.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, finally pulling off those damned boxers and moving to the edge of the bed.

You adjust until you’re kneeling between his thighs, and his hand moves to your chin—tilting your face up until you’re gazing at him.

God, the sight of him. His eyes are dilated, blown so dark that you can barely see the blue in them anymore. There’s a pretty flush to his cheeks, and his lips are parted.

Something about seeing him like this, knowing it’s for you, has your thighs pressing together. But that’s not what you’re here for.

His cock is just as pretty as his face. Long and pale, flushed pink at the tip, already leaking for you. You knew he had to be desperate, but the proof of it in your hands is something else.

The taste of it is something else, too.

He groans as soon as you take him between your lips, head tilting back and eyes falling closed as the velvety warmth of your mouth envelops him. His hand slides to the back of your neck, and he takes in a shaky breath.

You’ve dreamed about seeing this so many times in private that it almost doesn’t feel real now. All those nights with your vibrator between your legs, thinking of him, wondering how this might feel—they don’t even come close to this.

The weight of him on your tongue. The way his brows pinch in pleasure when you take him deeper, your fingers taking everything you can’t fit, the way his breathing grows strained and heavy.

The way he starts to guide you with the hand that’s on the back of your neck, gently encouraging you to pick up the pace. His hips start to lightly jerk into you, fucking into your mouth.

“Shit, just like that,” he says.

You’re so turned on that you can barely think. Everything you’re doing is entirely instinctive. You’re only vaguely aware of the fact that you’re squirming, thighs pressing together to get some relief.

You’re desperately trying to commit every detail to memory, because you’re very, very sure that this is never going to happen again, and you don’t want to forget anything, not one second of it.

You file away every jagged inhale, the way the muscles of his thighs start to flex when he starts getting closer, the way he moans your name when you do something he particularly likes.

And then, just when it starts getting really fucking good, you find yourself being pulled off of him.

He’s panting, and there’s an intensity in his eyes that has a shiver running down your back. Jesus fuck, you want him. You’re about to start begging for him to finish in your mouth, but his thumb starts to trail slowly over your bottom lip and the words die in your throat, instantly forgotten.

“Satoru…” you mumble instead.

“Told you I was going to fuck you, didn’t I?” he asks, pushing two fingers between your lips, pressing the pads of them onto your tongue. On impulse, you start sucking on them, and he grins. “I’ve been dreaming of being inside you for months now, you know.”

You whimper, and the sound comes out muffled.

“That’s right,” he coos, pulling his hand away. “Planning to come up here, or do you want me to take you there on the floor?”

Arousal shoots straight down to your cunt, and you scramble up. The floor sounds hot, but from experience—it’d just mean an aching spine. And, if the way he’s looking at you is any indication, you’re already going to be limping tomorrow. You should really spare yourself, if you can.

“Lay back,” he requests softly.

You do as he asks, and he nudges your legs apart with his knee, sitting back on his heels as he runs a hand up your thigh. Then higher and higher, drawing a slow, lazy circle around your clit before sliding his fingers down against your entrance.

You’re fucking soaked. You’ve been ready for him since he first pressed you against that wall and kissed you, and you’re so wet now that when he lifts his hand away, you can see the evidence of yourself shining in the light.

The corners of his lips quirk up as he inspects his fingers, and he huffs a laugh. “Damn, baby, all of this for me?” He tilts his head. “Better not let it go to waste.”

He wraps his hand around his length and starts to stroke himself, and the moment you realize what he’s doing, you clench around nothing and whine, grasping at the sheets—even though it doesn’t do much to ground you.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his eyes fluttering shut. You swallow hard and study his long lashes against his cheeks for a moment, watching his brows knit together. “Need to be inside you right fucking now,” he says, the words quiet but intense, his gaze finally meeting yours again.

You spread your legs wider, and a muscle in his jaw tenses.

“So damn pretty,” he murmurs, grabbing at your thighs. “So fucking wet.” Then he pulls you over to him, the movement so smooth and quick that by the time your lips are parting in shock, he’s already bending down to kiss you.

It’s hungry and messy and desperate; sharp teeth and his hand on your cheek and the lingering taste of you on his tongue. Him moaning into your mouth when you fist a hand into his hair and tug him even closer.

Then he props himself up on his elbows and lines himself up with you, flashing you one more mischievous smile before he’s pressing inside.

He doesn’t go slow or particularly gentle when he thrusts into you, all the way to the hilt. You’re so ready for him that it’s all pleasure—white-hot, searing in your nerves until you can barely think.

Everything is heat and friction. The world fades away and becomes the addictive stretch of him filling you, him bending down and swallowing up the noises you make for him with another kiss.

“That’s it,” he says, moving a hand down to rub maddening circles on your clit. “Just like that. Taking me so well, baby.”

“Satoru—fuck,” you choke out. It’s the only thing you can say when he’s fucking you like this.

His pace quickens and he groans, nuzzling into your neck, biting down so hard that there’s no chance it won’t leave a mark. Something you’ll worry about tomorrow, but you lean into now.

He feels so goddamn good inside of you. His hips thrusting into you almost brutally, stealing away your air, one of his hands planted at your side and the other between your legs.

It has warmth coiling in your gut, building more and more as his movements start to grow faster, his breathing starts to sound labored, his noises start to become louder.

Your back is starting to arch—the pleasure grows blinding at the edges, clouding your vision over and parting your lips, making your thighs shake as you try to spread even wider for him.

“Satoru,” you gasp, cock-drunk and barely there. You’d meant to say more, but you can't remember what.

“God, yes. Come on my fucking cock,” Satoru pants, and that’s all you need.

It’s the strongest one yet. You clench around him and he immediately makes a strangled noise in response, fucking even harder into you as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.

You can't breathe. Satoru hasn't stopped: not his hips, and not his thumb on your clit. Your lips are parted in a silent moan, and it’s so fucking good that you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to see or speak or even move after this.

Then, finally, it ends and you float back into your body piece by piece, limp and breathing jaggedly.

When you come down, you find your nails digging into Gojo’s back. He’s close. He has to be, with the noises he’s making, with the way his thrusts are erratic.

You wrap a leg around his waist and urge him deeper, and he shudders, leaning in to kiss you. He’s noisy—so fucking noisy, even with your mouth to muffle him, but you're too far gone at this point to care if any of your neighbors hear (or have been hearing, really.)

When the kiss finishes, you lean up to bite at his neck, licking over the mark you made, and his hips stutter for a moment.

“Oh, fuck, I’m—” he says, and then he's cumming inside you.

You watch him shamelessly, hungrily, memorizing how his face scrunches in pleasure and the way he’s mumbling your name like a mantra, over and over.

Then he kisses you again, and you start memorizing the way Satoru kisses when he’s barely there instead. It’s less controlled. He’s licking into your mouth and shuddering, his hips rocking into you until it’s over and he finally goes still, burying his face in the junction between your shoulders and neck and breathing heavily.

You find your hands sliding into his hair and playing with the soft strands of it. Your nails scrape lightly against his scalp, and he groans into your skin as his body goes slack.

The two of you stay like that for a while. His breathing slows. He’s warm and heavy, and the feeling of him on top of you is making you sleepy—you’re halfway to drifting off when he starts laughing. It’s quiet, but you feel the tickle of it against your throat, the curl of his smile. You’re half annoyed and half endeared.

“Something funny?” you ask.

He hums, pressing feather-light kisses up your neck. Then he pulls out of you, murmuring a soft sorry when you wince before he sits up on his heels and grins at you.

“I was just thinking about earlier. You know, how you said you couldn’t come. That was, what, three times? Four?”

Your cheeks go hot. “Shut up, Satoru,” you tell him, tossing a nearby pillow at him.

He catches it easily, fluffing it up and placing it on your stomach before he crosses his arms over it and rests his chin on his hands. “Not bad for a first try,” he says, mostly to himself. “Next time, I could get you to eight for sure. Maybe even ten.”

Next time? you think, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Ten!?

His grin widens. “Guess we can find out in the morning,” he tells you, sitting up again. “You don’t have any plans, right?”

You do. An important meeting with the higher ups before noon.

“I have a—” you start, but the way his brows rise immediately shuts you up. Screw the higher ups. “No,” you tell him. “I don’t have anything.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, throwing one of your plushies at the wall. Somehow, it hits the light switch perfectly, and the two of you are left in the dark. You can see the faint glow of his eyes but nothing else.

You hear the pillow being put at your side again, his contented sigh as he stretches out on the bed, laying on his stomach. “Good night,” he says.

You swallow hard, hardly daring to believe that this is actually happening. “Good night.”

You’d been so close to sleep just moments ago, but now you’re wide away. The glow of Satoru’s eyes is gone—he really must be intending to sleep.

Here. In your bed.

The second you start thinking more about that is the second when everything falls apart, so you don’t. You force your eyes to shut. You can still hear him breathing. You hone in on the sound: soft, slow and even, and after a while the stillness of the room finally starts to take over you.

Your thoughts grow thick, like syrup. Your body goes heavy. Everything fades away.

You wake to golden light streaming in from the windows, and a pair of very warm arms wrapped around you.

The memories of last night hit you all at once (in vivid detail) and you instantly go tense, sucking in a slow breath. Honestly, part of you thought it might be fake. That you walked home from Shoko’s alone and fell into your bed, and dreamed it all up. But the feeling of him pressed against you is unmistakable.

Satoru Gojo is in your bed. He’s—he’s fucking cuddling you right now, and you can’t even tell if he’s awake or asleep.

Your answer comes when you adjust yourself a little and he stirs, the pillow you’re on shifting as he lifts his head. You hear him yawn, feel his grip loosen a hair around you. You don’t say a thing.

Will he snatch his arms away, now that he’s aware of what he’s doing? Will he change his mind about what he said last night, call it all a joke and leave?

But he just buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, kissing the skin. The tender, unexpected touch makes you shudder.

“Morning,” he mumbles.

“Morning,” you reply, letting out a soft gasp when one of his hands trails downward, rubbing slow circles on your thigh.

“Well?” he asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Ready to get started?”

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #mywriting

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

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AITA for letting a friend think my husband is cheating on me? A few months ago, my husband (30s) told me (also 30s) he has an adultery kink, but has no interest in actually cheating on me. His proposed compromise was that I could dress up a little different than usual, put on a wig, whatever, and then we could roleplay. A little weird, but I MUCH prefer him communicating stuff like this and working with me rather than the alternative. plus, i get to invent a character and give this fictitious homewrecker a tragic backstory; always fun. I'm thinking about giving her an epic revenge quest to explain her daddy issues. Anyway, I genuinely do like dressing up and I bought the wig anyway, so sometimes I go out in public dressed up as my Homewreckersona, and the long and short of it is a friend saw me with my husband, did not recognize me, and assumed the worst. The next day she called me up like "honey have you considered killing him" and I didn't know what to say. I can't just say "oh, I'm indulging my husband's kink in public." I cannot explain how much I do not want to talk about our sex life with anyone who actually knows me irl. I have to look these people in the eye. Also, she's the type who would tell me his kink is inherently abusive or something and I think it's ultimately harmless if this is how he's playing it. My married life, my choice, right? But anyway, I lied and tried to be like "oh her? yeah I know her. they've been friends for years and there's nothing weird going on. they're like siblings so don't even worry about it because he's not cheating I promise" and for sure she didn't believe me. So in effect, by lying, I have accidentally convinced a gossipy member of my friend group that my husband is cheating on me and I'm clueless about it. If five more people haven't been served the nonexistent tea by Friday, I'll eat my hat. AITA for letting him take the fall on this one just so I can avoid the excruciating embarrassment of admitting to kink stuff? PS: for anyone convinced he really does want to cheat, I tested him a little when he first brought it up and asked if there was any particular look he wanted me to go for (just to see if there might be a specific person he wanted to cheat with who I was intended to emulate) and he said no, whatever I picked would be great, because for all that he had the kink conceptually, he'd never actually wanted anyone but me. I know I'm biased but that's the cutest shit

#aita #am i the asshole

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theemporium · 1 year ago

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okay okay blurb concept: what do you think ab Oscar on a blind date? maybe Lando set him up with someone?

you ask and you shall receive🫡i hope i did it justice!!🫶🏽

This was a stupid idea.

In fact, it was an incredibly stupid idea for a multitude of reasons, but three in particular played in Oscar’s head on a loop as he drummed his fingers against the table, mocked by the empty seat across from him.

The first reason was the fact Lando fucking Norris was the mastermind behind the whole thing. In all honesty, he didn’t remember the last time the Brit had a genuinely good idea outside of racing and car improvements. He wasn’t even sure how Lando made him agree, though he wondered if he had hit his head off something and forgot about the whole thing.

The second reason was that it had been a dreadfully long time since Oscar had been on a date. It was embarrassing enough that he couldn’t even remember his last date, let alone remember whether it hadn’t ended badly or not. But it definitely didn’t help that this was the first one in possibly years, and he hadn’t even played a part in planning the damn thing if the fancy restaurant Lando chose said much.

The third reason was that despite Oscar almost begging his teammate, the boy had refused to tell him who he was actually attending a date with. It’s all a part of the fun, mate, Lando had said to him with a big smile. Never heard of a blind date? It’s romantic and shit.

But nothing about the whole set up felt romantic in the slightest.

Lando had tried to reassure the boy on his drive to the restaurant. He had wanted to arrive early, to settle himself and feel like he had some control on the situation even if he really didn’t. Lando had been insistent that the girl he set him up with was just his type, but it was a little hard to believe that when Lando had also been the reason Oscar had a stripper show up on his door to celebrate the end of the last season.

A gift Lando was also insistent that he would have enjoyed.

So now, Oscar was sat by himself in a fancy restaurant, almost twenty minutes early and looking absolutely pathetic as he sipped his glass of water and resisted the urge to scoff down the complementary breadsticks lying in the basket in front of him. He had given the waiter so many strained smiles, he was worried they were going to kick him out soon if he didn’t order something that actually cost money.

His eyes shifted down to glance at his phone, his fingers itching to reach out and dial Lando’s number again. The sickening feeling in his stomach was only growing, the anxiety bubbling inside him the longer he waited and he was honestly tempted to scrap the whole thing and lock himself in his apartment for a few days before he could face the real world again.

And yet, before he could even unlock his phone, someone paused by his table and a voice called out his name.

“Oscar?”

His head snapped up, any semblance of a reply quickly leaving his mind as he openly gaped at you. You were gorgeous, beyond anything he could even imagine. Not that he cared much for looks or thought Lando would set him up with someone horrendously ugly but…fuck, he wasn’t expecting someone as pretty as you.

And suddenly he was nervous for a million other reasons.

“Sorry, are you not Oscar?” You continued after a few moments of silence, a look of embarrassment crossing over your face as you moved to take a step away from the table. “I’m so sorry, I could have swore you looked like the photo my friend sent me—”

“No!” He blurted out as he quickly stood up, his chair screeching against the floor as he did. “No, I mean, yes.” Your confusion only grew. “I mean…I’m Oscar.”

“Oh,” you said and something in your face brightened as you extended your hand to the boy, offering your name in response. “It’s lovely to meet you, Oscar.”

“Yeah, you too,” he supplied lamely, frowning a little at himself before he cleared his throat. “Uh, can I get you something? I mean, not me. I meant like I could call the waiter for you and you could order. But I should probably let you look at the menu first so—” And fuck, he didn’t think he had ever spoken this much in one go ever.

But your giggle cut him off as you smiled at him. You glanced around, noting the high-end restaurant that you knew Lando probably got a kick out of picking before your gaze landed on the Aussie once again.

“Can I be honest?”

Oscar nodded his head vigorously.

“This doesn’t look like your kind of scene,” you said to him, and Oscar could feel his cheeks burning.

He shrugged. “I really don’t mind—”

“It’s not mine either,” you added, something almost mischievous shining in your eyes. “But there is a really cool arcade about fifteen minutes away that do really good burgers if you’re interested.”

And it wasn’t Oscar’s fault that he couldn’t bite back the massive grin on his face. “That sounds perfect.”

And maybe—just fucking maybe—one of Lando’s plans had worked out far better than anyone ever assumed.

#oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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rakhalofthestars · 1 month ago

Text

Under His Bangs

Synopsis: Boothill finally lets you see what he's been hiding underneath his bangs.

Tags: Boothill x gn reader, established relationship, Boothill's backstory, fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort, soft Boothill <3 a/n: This fic is based off my headcanon on what I like to think is underneath his bangs :3

Warnings: Self depreciation and talks of appearance, Boothill might also be a bit ooc here :(

wc: 1 733

Many parts of Boothill’s appearance are striking, causing him to easily stand out in a crowd. Poor guy. Blending in was never his strong suit and his metal body makes it even more difficult. There just aren’t many cyborgs who looked the way he did.

It’s not like Boothill ever tried to blend in much. Everything from his whole cowboy get-up to his boisterous personality screamed that he was someone who you wouldn’t want to forget about anytime soon. Not to mention the bounty on his head that had risen to the billions recently.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for, darlin’? I ain’t even responsible for half the things these people be accusin’ me for! I mean, just look at me, ain’t I just the picture of a saint?” Boothill protested one time when you had shoved his wanted poster in his face. On the poster was a (admittedly good) photo of him with his signature shit-eating grin along with the sum of a whopping one billion credits stamped underneath.

You had sighed back then, knowing you can’t argue with him and in all honesty, you doubt he was actually responsible for the wares disappearing from a shop at Pier Point shopping street. Maybe the poor employee was really just trying to get out of listening to Karen complain their ear off. Considering the amount of trouble he’s caused at Pier Point for the IPC, it’s no surprise that Boothill made a long lasting impression on everyone there.

That’s the thing about Boothill. Every part of him always left an impression. Whether the impression was good or bad really depended on whether you were with the “shirt bags at the IPC” as he liked to call it.

Even though you had been traveling with the Galaxy Ranger for quite some time now, there was one aspect of his appearance that was constantly on your mind. His bangs. They were so mysterious and styled in such a way as well.

Why were his bangs the only part of his hair that was fully black? Why did they cover his right eye? Was it a stylistic choice to cover his right eye and look like an emo? Or was there some other, more bigger reason behind covering part of his face like that?

The flurry of questions always swirled about in your head whenever you were with him. It almost made you dizzy at times. However, since you knew about all that the man had been through prior to becoming a cyborg, you kept quiet and never tried to pry. It didn’t go unnoticed by Boothill though, the curiosity that was always brimming in your eyes when they flicked momentarily to his bangs. He really did want to explain what was underneath. The problem was that he just wasn’t sure whether he was ready to open this specific can of worms.

But when something is meant to happen, the opportunity for it will naturally present itself.

You and Boothill were lying on the motel bed, simply basking in one another’s presence. It was one of those quiet nights where all you wanted to do was to just forget about your worries and relax.

Lying on the soft mattress with Boothill’s body acting as a sort of weighted blanket whilst his face was nuzzled in the crook of your neck, you really don't want to ruin this slice of paradise by asking about his bangs. Nor does he want to ruin that lazy little smile on your lips by revealing this particular skeleton in his closet.

Your hands roam about and glide over him mindlessly until your fingers are suddenly tangling themselves in his hair. You massage his scalp gently before bringing his face out of its little hiding spot in your neck. An uncharacteristic and borderline pathetic little whine sounds from Boothill’s lips but it’s forgotten as the crosshair in Boothill’s eye locks onto you, the tiny target in the middle forming into the shape of a heart because each and every time you caress his face, he swears he’s falling in love even more than he thought was possible. He has the most adorable little smile on his face but it falters when your hand strays just a bit too far, almost brushing his bangs away from his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to”, you apologize immediately and retract your hand, knowing that the fact that Boothill even allows you to touch him and his hair so freely is something that not many get and you’d hate to overstep his boundaries.

“...Naw, it’s fine. I ain’t mad, darlin’,” is Boothill’s reply as he brings your hand back to his face, already missing your touch. He places your hand right underneath his bangs and the look in his eyes tells you that it was no mistake on his part for the placement.

“Can I…?”

The man hesitates, something that you’ve rarely ever seen him do. He’s always so sure of himself, so confident with each and every single move of his. What could possibly make him hesitate?

“Yeah, go ahead”, Boothill finally says.

Despite the bit of excitement that’s bubbling within you, you don’t rush to see what’s underneath. You take your time, simply feeling the soft skin and watching how your partner looks on with anxiety but also affection. He wants to know- no. He needs to know how you’ll react. Even if it might hurt him. You’ve done so much for him. You’ve loved him, taken care of him, listened to him without any judgment and have been with him through the highs and lows of this chapter of his life as he navigates through depression, anxiety and this new robot body of his. You deserved to know.

With love and care etched into your movements, you slowly brush aside the black locks of hair that covered part of Boothill’s face.

Under his bangs, was a big, dark burn mark that marred the area his hair normally covered along with a deep scar that ran vertically down his right eye, causing it to be shut tight.

Silence permeated throughout the room as you drank in the sight and Boothill stared back anxiously, waiting for you to say something.

“Oh…”, you finally breathe out and the Galaxy Ranger winces.

His breath hitches and his left eye widens in disbelief. Beautiful? Was there something wrong with your eyes? He was tempted to ask but falls silent when you trace the darker flesh with reverent touches and bring his face closer to press the lightest kiss on top of his right eye.

“It’s hideous, ain’t it?”

“You’re so beautiful, Boothill.”

“You’re so very beautiful.”

“Well fudge…ya can’t just say that, sugar. Gon’ make a man cry”, Boothill mumbles, his gravelly voice cracking so subtly you could’ve thought that you imagined it. He had never exposed himself like this to anyone. He could count on one hand the amount of times he felt as vulnerable as he did now.

“Why can’t I say it? You’re the handsomest man that I’ve ever seen. If you want to cry then go ahead, there’s nothing wrong with crying. But believe me when I say you’re gorgeous.”

“How could you ever find a bag o’ bolts like me beautiful?”

“These scars on your face…they tell stories of who you are and what you’ve gone through. I won’t force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable but you don’t have to hide them. Not around me at least,” you whisper against his skin. Hidden in your words was an underlying plea that was only for him to hear.

“Because you are. If I could, I’d let you see yourself through my eyes just so you could realize what a sight you are.”

With every word that passes your lips, you press soft kisses across his face, paying extra attention to the right side that he deemed “ugly”. It was as if your kisses were paint and his face was your canvas as he allows you to paint your love onto him.

Please let me take your pain and shoulder it with you. Please let me shower you with the love that was robbed from you. Please don’t push me away.

A shuddering gasp escapes Boothill, the first sound that he’s made now in a while. He needs time and that’s what you give. You fill the silence with fond caresses and gentle kisses until the man finally manages to speak.

“Mah face wasn’t always like this, y’know. It was…on that night. When them cannons were falling down from the IPC…”, his voice cracks and he trails off. You wanted to know more but stayed silent, letting him take things at his own pace.

“I was runnin’ home, praying to every Aeon that I could think of at the time that everything would be all fine and dandy…Wasn’t really lookin’ where I was runnin’ and neither was I thinkin’ much about dodgin’ the bombs. A bit o’ burnin’ shrapnel fell on this side of mah face here and well…y’can see for yerself what happened.”

“When I went to that tech doc to get this here body of mine, I asked her to not do anythin’ to these scars. Maybe it’s stupid since I can’t stand to look at ‘em, but I just didn’t want to do away with ‘em. I wanted to keep ‘em, as a reminder of that night and what it is that I fight for. Not like I need much remindin’ but heh…y’know…”

Boothill lets out a small, bitter chuckle before burying his face back in the crook of your neck. He had long lost the ability to cry but he swore that if he continued to talk, he’d end up breaking down in front of you and that was something he wished to avoid.

All you can do now is to comfort him because the fact that he’s told you all of this means that yes, he will allow you to shoulder his pain with him. Yes, he’ll allow you to shower him with the love that he was robbed of. No, he won’t push you away. So continue with what you’ve been doing all this time. Continue to assure him of his beauty and his worth. Continue to love him because Lan knows how long he’s gone without it.

#honkai star rail #hsr boothill #boothill #boothill fanfic #boothill x reader #boothill x you #x reader #gender neutral reader #hsr x reader #i like my men lovesick and pathetic if you couldnt already tell #hsr fanfic

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 6 months ago

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So it's come to my attention a little birdy @judegossip has been lying about shit on here. I'm honestly ok with most gossip account everyone is on their own thing, it's cool, but this girl in particular is a fucking mess.

First off I make a post saying y'all need to be careful with what you're posting on here because rightfully so, football player teams look on social media(especially Jude. This isn't an opinion or a guess it's a fucking fact) to see what bullshit y'all say to damage his reputation and what not, And not even a few hours later she makes a post saying Toby messaged her.

BUT ACTUALLY HE DIDN'T! She got someone else to message her and make it seem like it was Toby

Don't read any further if you don't like gossip. You've been warned!

The account (who I have no problems with btw) made up a fake story at her request and she proceeded to post acting as if Toby was the one who sent that shit to her ass

Not only is she deranged but she's also clearly lying and her anons are obviously making fanfictions against Jude. Now I want to tell you, as someone who has had a gossip account before I know for a fact you can send anons to yourself through desktop. And people lie because it's easy. Not only is she trying to make it out as if Jude is gay she also keeps making claims Jude has had a 3some with Toby and she has a picture of said 3some taking place. And Jude is some shitty ex boyfriend because "someone close to Jude" came to Tumblr and told you.(I've heard that one before too lol)

My momma didn't raise a fucking fool. As I stated people make stuff up and I have once or twice lied about knowing something or having something when I didn't for attention (stupid right? I know. I was young and dumb)

Also her talking about toby potential nose job why do you gaf exactly? She clearly has some weird beef with Toby for no fucking reason at all. Here she is continuing to feed into this shit, lying to her anons as if she wasn't the one making this up

She's homophobic and also she's a zonist apparently (the account who messaged me has proof of that). I doubt this woman is a real jude fan the way she talks about this man and his family and friends.

Now idgaf if her or her little minions come at me( nothing you say will hurt my feelings. Everything is funny to me) but I refuse to sit here and let someone do this shit. Not only is it deranged but clearly she's a serial attention seeker who ego is driven by people anonymous messaging her. I don't know if you're a fucking child or something but you need help babe and I hope you get it because you need that shit

I don't want to be a gossip account so I won't answer too many anons on this. Instead I'll answer something via tags or message me and I'll explain. I will also not be tagging any post after this unless necessary to do so. The tags are supposed to be a fun place, not a shitty one. (also I don't care if you share this anywhere else other than Tumblr)

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #england nt #jude gossip #jobe bellingham #real madrid #england national team

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moralesluvr · 2 years ago

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high maintenance gf x earth 42 miles and how he would literally spoil her sm!! and everytime she gets her hair, nails, etc done he always wants to see them #SoCute🤭

take care of my woman ft. miles morales

♡ pairings & aus: earth42!miles morales x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: your boyfriend loves keeping his girl spoiled and happy, and he especially loves to see what he does for you ♡ warnings: one swear! just sum' good ole fluff ♡ a/n: thanks for your request!! we love the softie side of mr morales ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

MILES MORALES DEFINITELY SPOILS YOU. Every chance he can get, he's finding reasons to provide for his girl or finding ways and outlets to get you what you want. On this particular day, you were sitting in a hairstylist's chair after Miles caught you scrolling through different hairstyles on your Pinterest feed.

"You want that one, hermosa?" He had asked you earlier when he saw you save a picture of some goddess braids to your hair inspiration board. You didn't even bother to lie and say no, because you knew he could tell if you were lying, so you just nodded and watched as he sent you three hundred dollars to go and get your hair done. As you stood up and got ready to go, he came up to you and pulled his car keys out his pocket, "Take my whip. I'll see you later, okay? Love you."

Grinning at him, you had kissed him and left his house to go to your favorite hairstylist, Monica, who has never done you dirty in the years she's been doing your hair. You were sitting comfortably in her chair, catching up on the latest neighborhood gossip as your phone charged next to her hair station. She heard it buzz and she tapped your shoulder, "Girl, your man is texting you."

"Hand me the phone, please." You requested, the device getting placed into your palm as you felt Monica start on your next braid. You swiped your phone open and clicked on your boyfriend's text.

from [mi novio <3]: hey amor from [mi novio <3]: what yo hair lookin like? lemme see

You giggled at his message, "Yo, Monica, can you take a picture of the back of my head and send it to Miles?"

Monica snorts, "You do know this big 'ole ponytail ain't finish yet, right? I'm jus' starting the third row."

"Just take it." You urged with a laugh. You heard your stylist snap the picture and click send, and within seconds, your boyfriend was texting you back.

from [mi novio <3]: yikes bae from [mi novio <3]: thats the end product? from [mi novio <3]: u need some more $$ ??

to [mi novio <3]: no u idiot, she ain done yet to [mi novio <3]: i think imma get blonde ends whatchu think?

from [mi novio <3]: get 'em, youll look cute in that

to [mi novio <3]: wait crap i dont have enough money

MI NOVIO <3 HAS SENT YOU $100 DOLLARS.

from [mi novio <3]: here u go ma from [mi novio <3]: txt me when u done from [mi novio <3]: i love u

You grinned at your phone and set it down, slumping back in the chair as you waited for Monica to finish your hair up. You couldn't wait to get home to your boyfriend and show him.

After what seemed like an eternity, your braids were finally finished, dipped, and your scalp had been moussed. You swiped your (more like Miles') card and smiled at Monica, who wished you a good day and slipped a free hair oil in your bag. You made your way outside and quickly drove back to your boyfriend's place, excited to show him your new hairstyles.

You unlocked the door to his crib once you arrived. You saw him sitting on the couch, manspreading with his hands behind his head, watching something on TV that you would probably have little to no interest in. You grinned and squealed when you saw him, plopping down next to him, "Look at my hairrrrr!"

He smiled at you, kissing your cheek, "Lookin' so fine, déjame hacer una foto."

You watch as your boyfriend takes out his phone and takes a picture of your hair, saving it to some folder. You peek over with a smile as you see the name,

my woman and the shit i pay for.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10

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orqheuss · 2 years ago

Text

In the pursuit of knowledge

(Ominis/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

“Have you ever been kissed, Ominis?”

***

It's after curfew, and you and Ominis are tipsy on firewhiskey in the Undercroft. The sexual tension is heavy in the air-- what are two teenagers secretly in love to do?

Ao3 link here

Smut based on a drawing by @gangstagandalf

“Have you ever been kissed, Ominis?”

You were lying on the floor of the Undercroft, your legs crossed in front of you and your hands resting on your abdomen as you gazed upwards. A small smile creased your face as you asked the blond next to you the question that had been on your mind since the firewhiskey entered your system a few hours ago, your foot lightly tapping his where they touched. Ominis was leaning against one of the many columns in the space, his head resting heavily against the stone and his legs stretched as well, forming an L shape with your bodies. You both were pleasantly tipsy by this point, a soft warmth filling your bodies and a lovely little fog swirling through your minds. Sebastian had left not long ago, claiming that he was off to his bedchambers to sleep off his inevitable hangover; you had a sneaking suspicion that he was actually going to go bother a particular brunette Hufflepuff with a soft spot for beasts, though.

The boy pondered this for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing at his brow. He swirled the bottle of whiskey in his hand around, tapping the base of it against his thigh. A hum left his closed lips before he spoke. “No, never really had the inclination to.” He leaned forward slightly, raising the bottle to his lips and taking a small drag of the amber liquid before letting gravity pull him back towards the pillar with a thump. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “Many have tried, but it didn’t feel right.”

A look of confusion passed over your face, your lips tweaking into a small frown as you raised up to your elbows. “What do you mean?”

He lazed his head towards your direction, eyes still closed but a close-lipped smile creeping up his cheeks. “I always thought my first kiss should be with someone I cared deeply for— maybe even loved, if it came to that. My parents have tried to set me up a numerous amount of times, but I didn’t feel anything for the girls they introduced me to.” He turned away from you again, his eyes opening and staring unseeing at the arched ceiling. “I want all the feelings people talk about— the butterflies, the fireworks, the encompassing warmth, not just my name signed next to some random woman that my mother deemed ‘appropriate’ for me so we can keep the bloodline strong.” He cleared his throat, swallowing around the sudden nervousness that rested there. “What about you? Has there been anyone?”

You hummed in thought, nodding along with his words. “I’ve been waiting for the same, though I can’t say I’ve had many strong contenders.”

You watched as a chuckle took over his visage, his perfect teeth glowing in the candlelight and his shoulders lightly shaking with mirth. “Yes, I imagine there aren’t many good choices in our current pool of suitors.”

A snort blew out of your nose against your consent, your expression twisting into one that said “no shit.” “Agreed. Most only want one thing anyway, and if I haven’t kissed anyone yet I’m certainly not doing that. At least, not with just anyone.”

Ominis made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat, the smile falling from his face as fast as it appeared and his eyebrows pinching downwards. “If those neanderthals only care about getting their dick wet, they don’t deserve your time.”

You laughed loudly, the crassness of his words startling you. After a few moments, he joined you with his own sounds of joy, ending with both of you breathing heavily and a rosy flush across your cheeks. Your hazy, intoxicated eyes floated over to his form, taking a moment in the calm to drink him in entirely. Nearly everyone knew that you liked the blond boy— everyone except him, of course. No matter how many times you’ve tried to hint at your feelings, each one completely went over his head. Some had told you to just give up, that he was never going to get it or he was just trying to spare your feelings by ignoring your advances, but you truly couldn’t help it; the boy was beautiful inside and out. It certainly didn’t help your hunger for him that he had decided it was too hot earlier and undone the first few buttons of his shirt, unknotting his tie in the process and leaving it loose around his neck. You took in his birth marks first, tracing each and every little dot from the corner of his eye, down the tops of his collarbones, all the way to his long, lithe fingers still wrapped around the neck of the square shaped bottle. Merlin, even his fingernails were lovely; you had never admired the small details of someone before him— how his elbows sat outside of his rolled up sleeves, the length of his golden eyelashes, the curve and pale pink color of his cupids brow. Your eyes danced over the curve of his mouth, wishing desperately to know what he tasted like. Would he be sweet, like the candies he loved so much? Would he be bitter like the firewhiskey on his breath? Or would he be something entirely new, something you had never tasted before? Your cheeks burned at the thought. Moving slowly upwards his face, you got caught on the sharpness of his cheekbones next. One wrong move and you could cut yourself on those ridges. You thought that would be a beautiful reason to bleed. Trailing up the soft curve of his ear, you admired his flaxen hair under the low lighting. The tiny blazes of the floating wicks caught each strand growing from his scalp and transformed them into spools of pure golden silk. You wondered if it was as soft as it looked— if it would look as pretty grasped between your fingers, if the light would catch it the same from between your thighs—

Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, a familiar warmth growing in your lower stomach.

Cutting off your lewd thoughts, you snapped your eyes to his, watching the pale blue irises dance in the firelight. They were almost ethereal— otherworldly, you would say. There was something about the color that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Or maybe it was the sparkle that resided inside, the hidden spark of mischief that rarely saw the light of day? Either way, you could stare into those eyes all day if he would let you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system or something about the intimacy of the situation at hand, but you wanted to swim in that blue. You wanted to jump in and dive all the way to the bottom of his mini-oceans. Drowning in his eyes would be your favorite way to go.

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, your tongue poking out to wet yours as you pondered your next move. Crawling up to your knees, you shuffled towards the boy, reaching your hand out for the whiskey in his grasp. You gently unwound his fingers from the neck, minutely shuddering from the dizzying spark that passed between your hands touching, and took a long drag. Ominis laughed at the little cough that escaped from you, his hand reaching up and smoothing his hair before flopping downwards and landing right on your thigh. His fingers slid dangerously under the hem of your skirt, smoothing against the tops of your thigh-high socks. Color spread across your face and down your neck at the pure heat that radiated from his palm— a matching blush stretching across the boys cheeks just the same. Even still, he made no move to change his grip, going as far as to squeeze the skin between his fingers unconsciously.

You swallowed roughly, your gulp near audible as you lifted your own hand into the air, letting it hover for a moment with nerves before steeling yourself and letting it fall atop of his. Pure need burned under your skin. Perhaps it was time to be more direct in your approach.

Clearing your throat, you leaned slightly closer to the very handsome Slytherin. “Ominis, you’d say we’re friends, correct?”

Confusion creased his face, a question dangling at the tip of his tongue. “Yes, you know you’re my closest friend besides Sebastian. Why?”

You shift closer, causing the both of your hands to slip further up your skin. The blond swallowed thickly, shifting slightly to alleviate the pressure building in his pants.

“Would you say you care for me?”

Ominis can smell the tension in the air around the both of you. He inhales it deeply, his eyes fluttering closed at the enticingness of it. His voice comes out as a stuttering breath. “Y-yes, you could say that.” Care was definitely putting it lightly— he had been smitten with you for Merlin knows how long.

In a bold movement, you shifted your weight and threw one of your legs to the other side of his, straddling his hips and pressing your heat against his thigh. His other hand shot up to hold you still at the waist. Both of you were panting, heaving breaths mingling in the space between your faces. Your hands came up to drape around his shoulders, one of your thumbs smoothing back and forth on the skin creeping out from under his starched collar. Leaning forward a bit more, your nose brushed against his, igniting the fireworks in your chest and sending your eyes fluttering shut. There were mere inches between the two of you— one move and you would fall into the sweet oblivion of his kiss.

The boy could hear your heart pounding in your chest; It was a comfort to know that you were just as nervous as he was. His grip tightened at your waist as his thumb mimicked the motions on his neck at the center of your thigh. He could feel himself getting excited where the both of you were connected, and his heart skipped a beat when your lips very lightly brushed against his— barely a touch but still so very tantalizing.

Your words were nothing more than a breath. “Can I kiss you, Ominis?”

He loved how his name sounded on your lips.

A low groan came from his chest, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

And then there was no more space between the both of you. The kiss was gentle— lips carefully caressing against lips like two fragile pieces of glass. It felt like you were made to kiss him. Neither of you moved in fear of scaring the other away, your bodies stiff and hands trembling where they rested. After a moment you separated, breathing shakily against the other while your foreheads rested together. Ominis’ hands squeezed you harder, pressing his fingerprints into your skin and accidentally dragging his still moving thumb to your inner thigh. You sighed, a small moan humming in the back of your throat.

It was like a switch flipped in the blond at the sound— a primal hunger waking up inside of him at the sound of your pleasure. His lips surged forwards again, capturing yours in a searing kiss for the second time. He pressed you tightly to him, the hand on your thigh moving even farther up your skirt, passing over your bottom and pressing at your lower back. The other moved from your waist up to your head, weaving his fingers through your hair and gripping at your roots. You keened against him at the sudden pain, rolling your hips in search of a delicious friction you’d never known before. The blond’s tongue ran along your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from your throat and opening you up to his invasion. The absolutely sinful sounds of your tongues pressing together sent a shiver of arousal down your spine. Your hand snaked up the side of his neck, slithering into his golden locks and harshly tugging his head back so you could get to the supple skin at his collar. He hissed, mouth falling open in pleasure as you attacked the skin where his shoulder connected to his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses in the wake of each of your love bites. The hand at your back slid down and grabbed hold of your ass, grinding you down on his hard length and sending a tumbling moan from the both of your mouths.

The fingers tangled in your hair tugged you back lightly, dragging your face from his flesh and forcing you to meet his eyes. His pupils were blown out to their full size, the cicle of black nearly taking over the entirety of the soft blue pools in lust. His chest was heaving as he struggled to push air into his lungs and speak at the same time. “Wait— I need to know that you actually want to do this.” It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your chest at the vulnerable look in his eyes. He was bearing his whole soul to you. “Call me selfish if you wish, but if we continue down this path I do not think I will be able to stop myself. Please tell me you want this as much as I do— that you burn for me as much as I burn for you.”

You breathed a laugh against his open lips, grabbing at the ends of his tie and pulling him closer once again. “I crave you more than I have ever craved anything else in this world.”

You cut off his sigh of relief with your mouth, teeth clashing together from the velocity. You use your hips to slightly rotate the both of you, pushing Ominis’ body backwards with your chest until you were lying back on the cold stone ground. He chuckled against you, biting your lip and pulling gently.

“Eager little minx, aren’t you?” You wanted to kiss that smug look from his face.

Your hands began to unbutton the rest of his shirt, leaning close and just teasing your lips on his neck. You felt wonderful against him. “May as well move to the next step— the pursuit of knowledge awaits no man.”

His barking laugh filled the chasmous space around you, ricocheting off the walls and echoing back to you before it was swallowed by a surprised moan from your teeth digging sharply into his collarbone, your hips rolling downwards in tandem. His large hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs, trembling in hesitation and restraint; he wanted nothing more than to grab you by the hips and drag you down across his throbbing length. You had similar plans it seemed as you pulled back and began unbuttoning your shirt. Ominis quickly captured your lips again, replacing your hands with his and all but ripping the fabric from your form, leaning upwards slightly on his elbows and shucking his own shirt from his body. You undid the button of your skirt as well, leaving you in just your underclothes. You moved to pull the long socks from your feet but a hand stopped you, a growl filled with pure, unfiltered want sending a pulse directly to your already dripping core.

“Leave them on.”

You frantically nodded, dropping your weight back onto his lap and grinding against him again. The sweet, sanguine sounds of each moan you dragged from his bruised throat furthered your movements. Incredibly annoyed at the fact that he still has trousers on, you reached your hands down and began to undo his belt, threading the leather through the buckle and tossing it in the direction of the rest of your clothes. You wanted to lick, to taste every single inch of his skin. Your fingers ghosted at the area where you connected, dragging your fingertips along his hard member and drawing an absolutely lewd whimper from his kiss-bruised mouth.

You whispered against the skin of his chest, taking one of nipples between your teeth and lightly biting. “May I?”

Ominis didn’t care what you were asking for, as long as you didn’t stop. “Fuck— yes, stars, please.”

Him begging for your touch was doing something to you.

You smiled against his ribs, pressing kisses to every freckle and mole you could find as you drifted downwards to his needy manhood. If someone were to tell Ominis that he died and had gone to heaven, he would have believed them— there was no way this was actually happening. A rouged blush dressed his entire body when he felt your fingers drag along the waistband of his trousers, your nails kissing his skin before popping open the button and dragging down the zipper. He lifted his hips to help you, hissing as you pulled his trousers and pants down to his knees and letting the cold air of his secret hideaway brush against his smoldering skin. His cock stood at attention in front of your eyes, the tip a brilliant pink and precum leaking from his slit. Your hot and heavy makeout session really got him going.

You licked your lips, your eyes trailing a particularly prominent vein along the underside. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

The praise drew another whine from his throat, and he threw one of his hands over his mouth to muffle the sound in embarrassment. You must have put some sort of spell on him, there was no way these sounds were voluntarily leaving him. You nipped at his hipbone in a warning, trailing your finger along the vein that was currently fascinating you.

“No muffling yourself, my love. Let me hear you— I love your voice so much.”

He hesitantly removed his hand from his mouth, choosing instead to run it through his hair and mess it up even more while his other hand reached down and threaded in your own locks.

You smiled wryly against the skin of his thigh. “Good boy.”

You punctuated your words with your tongue, dragging the appendage along the length of his twitching cock and drawing a long, thunderous moan from the boy below you. My, what lovely sounds he made. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his weeping tip before opening your mouth and taking him into your throat one inch at a time.

He made a choking sound in the back of his throat, pleasure flooding his system. “Fuuuck, you’re lips feel so good around me, darling.”

Darling. The pet name only spurred you along even more, your eyebrows knitting together as you fought against your gag reflex to fit even more of him into your awaiting throat. You were going to take him all the way to the hilt.

A stream of moans and grunts fell from Ominis’ throat as you bobbed your head up and down, finding a rhythm that works for the both of you. His fingers tightened in your hair, struggling against his need to grab your head and fuck into your throat. It wasn’t like he hadn’t experimented sexually before, he was a teenage boy after all. Masturbation was normal at this point in his life, but his hand never felt this good. Each bob of your head, each twist of your tongue along his length, sent a bolt of electricity down his spine and directly to the spot in his lower stomach where a knot of pleasure was forming. You lifted off of him with a pop, heaving air into your lungs and tonguing at his slit, and the blond saw stars. He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate; his orgasm was fast approaching with every flick of your heavenly muscle. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for something as you inhaled and exhaled headily from your nose. He was about to ask what you were doing when you took him back into your mouth in his entirety, sliding his cock down your throat and letting your nose rest against the curls at the base. He couldn’t stop the sounds that came from him, each one higher pitched and more needy than the last. Ominis tugged at your hair, trying to pull you off before he finished.

“W-wait— Shit, I’m so close. Please, fuck, I’m gonna cum, wait—”

You didn’t listen, digging your nails into his hips and holding on for dear life. Your throat pulsated around him as you struggled to not gag, drawing a particularly loud and high pitch whimper from the blond. You reached down and thumbed at his taut sack, and he was a goner. A hiss that sounded distinctly like your name flew from his open mouth as he shot down your throat. You swallowed around him, licking at his slit for every last drop and pulling overstimulated keens from your lover’s throat. He yanked you off of him, an absolutely glorious blush covering the entirety of his body. You watched his chest heave up and down for a moment before you made your way back up to his face, smoothing your hand over his cheek and pushing the sweaty hair off of his temple before capturing his lips into a kiss. Ominis squeezed you as tight as he possibly could to his chest. You couldn’t help grinding against his softening dick, coating it with the slick that had begun to seep through the crotch of your panties and run down your leg. The Slytherin hissed between his teeth, grabbing your neck lightly and pulling you away. You chased his mouth and he chuckled.

“I can’t decide if you were sent here to save me, or kill me.”

He could feel your chuckle against his palm. “Why can’t I do both?”

He hooked one of his legs around yours, using the leverage to flip you over and press your back against the floor. Your mouth dropped open in pleasure from the feeling of his fingers tightening around your larynx. Ominis chuckled again, feeling your heartbeat pick up against where his thumb was on your pulse point.

“Oh, you like that? We’ll explore that more text time, I think.”

Next time. You liked the sound of a next time.

He ghosted his hand down your chest, grabbing at your still clothed breast and kneading the flesh, and it was your turn to whimper. Ominis wasted no time reaching behind you and struggling with the clasp of your bra, curses falling from his lips in annoyed desperation. Just as you were about to help him, he retracted his hands and instead wrapped his hands around the band, growling in frustration.

“Blasted thing—”

With a hard yank, he ripped the fabric of your bra and tossed it across the room into some unknown corner. You opened your mouth to protest when he crashed his lips to yours, pawing at your now free breasts and drawing little whines from your chest.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

The pretty blond kissed down your neck, leaving a scattering of bruises like you did to him before making his way to your heaving chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and tweaking it with the tip of his tongue. You ran your hands through his hair in utter bliss, soft hums breaching the space around you. He let go of your peak with a sinful pop, drawing your attention to him as his other hand slid down to the waistband of your panties. Ominis pressed a kiss above your heart, letting his finger run along the underside of your final piece of clothing and listening to your breath hitch. That vulnerable look was back in his eyes.

“I want to return the favor. Please, please let me taste you.”

His sweet words were making your head spin more than the firewhiskey ever could. You made a noise of affirmative, not trusting your voice at the moment, and thread your fingers through his hair again. It truly was as soft as it looked. The blond smiled, his grin full of teeth and like he had just won the lottery, before he kissed his way down your stomach, stopping at your underwear and mouthing hotly at your hipbones. You whined in impatience, and he laughed against your skin before taking the hem of your panties and pulling them down your legs, kicking off the rest of his clothes in the process. Your breathing got increasingly shallow as he threw your legs over his shoulders, his lips pressing against the skin of your inner thighs and biting darker hickies in a spot no one else would see. He got closer and closer to your throbbing center, inhaling your heady scent and nearly losing his last little bit of composure. He looked up at you though his eyelashes, gazing at you like he could actually see how disheveled you were.

“I need you to tell me what to do, can you do that?”

You nodded, pulling lightly at his roots. He bit the mound of skin above where you wanted him.

“Words please, dove.”

You swallowed thickly. “Y-yes, I can do that.”

He smiled, turning your words from earlier back on you. “Good girl.”

A loud mewl spilled from you as he licked a hot stripe along your folds, the tip of his tongue catching on your clit and painting your vision white. He pulled back with an agonized groan.

“You’re so wet, my darling. Did I do this? Merlin, help me.”

He dove back into your sacred place, lapping at you like a man in a drought. You directed him to the best of your ability, telling him what spots made you see stars and the perfect rhythm to make you come undone. He was a quick learner, and soon you were writhing under him in the throes of pleasure. He had his lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves atop your privates, flicking his tongue every so often and sucking as his fingers teased your entrance. Whimpers of curses and his name streamed from your chest like a waterfall. Ominis carefully pressed one of his fingers into you, giving it an experimental thrust in and out, and your back arched off the ground in a desperate attempt to get closer as your thighs clamped tightly against his ears, suffocating him in your sweet center. You were a siren, and he was but a simple sailor entrapped by your hypnotizing song. What a lovely way to die.

Groans of satisfaction sent vibrations through your entire body, dragging you closer and closer to your release.

You keened feebly, begging the boy making you feel this good— for what, you weren’t sure. “Please, Ominis—”

He groaned again, and the knot in your lower stomach got impossibly tighter as he pressed a second finger into you and curled, pressing his fingertips into that delicious place that you had never been able to reach when you were alone in your dorm room. Incoherent whimpers screamed from your throat at the sheer bliss that flowed through your body, your hips wiggling sporadically as he scissored his fingers and prepared you for his length. One particularly hard bit of suction on your clit had you tumbling, your orgasm rocking through you like a speeding bullet and sending blinding fireworks through your brain. Ominis smiled as he worked you through your finish, proud of himself for making you cum on the first try. You tugged at his hair, pulling him up from between your legs and crashing your lips together in need. You could taste the saltiness of your slick on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, slipping through your folds and sliding slightly inside. You both groaned at the feeling, your fingernails digging into the blond’s shoulders at the minute sting. Ominis pressed his forehead to yours, trying to steady his breathing and heartbeat and whispered against your lips.

“Are you sure you want this, my love?”

You nodded your head, a plea slipping out. “Yes.”

He moaned at how needy you sounded— needy and cock-drunk for him. He kissed you, spilling all of the love he felt for you into it.

“Please tell me if you want to stop; I don’t want to hurt you.”

You huffed, “Why would I ever want to stop?”

You both moaned loudly as he breached your walls, pushing his hot member into your equally sweltering core inch by inch. Your eyebrows scrunched together at the pressure, and Ominis kissed the pain away as he got deeper and deeper. Finally he bottomed out inside of you, and you both stilled for a moment to get used to the feeling. You had never felt so full before, it was like he was touching every part of your body at once. Everything was simultaneously overwhelming and not enough. The blond dug his fingers into your hips as he warded away his encroaching orgasm; he didn’t want to finish before he could even savor the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. You squeezed his shoulders, giving him the signal that he can start moving, and he began thrusting in and out of you at a carefully slow pace. It was like nothing you had ever felt before— the pleasure was immeasurable. How people weren't doing this every second of the day, you weren't sure. You craned your neck down to were you both were connected and you couldn't help the harlequin moan that ripped from your throat. Whatever you were doing before this moment in your life was a waste— every moment not connected to Ominis Gaunt was an absolute waste. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pressing him deeper inside of you and drawing a growl from Ominis’ very soul. He picked his speed up as his orgasm crept up on him again, needing to feel you finish around him more than anything.

"Merlin, you feel so good around me— like you were made to take my cock."

His uncouth words went straight to your core.

Your mewls and moans filled the room; he was glad the Undercroft was so far under the school, lest someone would have definitely heard your screams of ecstasy. His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, definitely leaving bruises that will only get darker the next day, and slammed his hips against yours. His own wanton moans sang along with yours as the knot in his stomach tightened. You could feel how close he was from the stutter in his rhythm, and you reached your hand between the both of you and rubbed at your clit, pushing your own finish closer to the surface. In a rush of animalistic desire, Ominis leaned forwards and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, giving you the last push you needed to spill over the side of the precipice. Your orgasm crested over the edge, dyeing your vision a stark black as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You squeezed impossibly tighter around the blond’s thrusting cock, sending stars to the forefront of his mind for the second time that night and causing him to speed up his thrusts even more, chasing his own orgasm as you milked the life from him. His hips grew sporadic at the feeling of your tight cunt swallowing him whole, bringing his finish just out of reach. He panted against your shoulder, holding you against his chest as he whimpered.

“W-where do you want me t-to—”

You cut off his sentence, the throes of your orgasm still shocking through your system. “Inside me. Please, Ominis, I want to feel you fill me— I’m on the potion— Fuck, please!”

That was enough to send him over, his orgasm crashing over him like a tsunami as he spilled his life force deep inside of you. He thrust a few more times inside of you, prolonging his bliss before he stilled, both of you heaving air into your lungs like you would never breathe it again. He rolled off of you, dropping his whole exhausted body weight to the floor and pulling you against his chest. You rested there for a moment, basking in the glow of your first time and listening to the rapid pulse of the blond’s heartbeat. It sang to you a sweet lullaby, lulling you to sleep in the comfort of your lover’s arms. Ominis sighed, completely content for once in his life.

“I have wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”

Your head shot up in shock, your jaw dropping nearly down to your chest. “You mean we could have been doing that this whole time?!”

His eyes widened at your shout, processing your words for a moment before a blush spread down his neck again. He brought his hand up to his face, covering it in embarrassment as he laughed at how stupid the both of you were. You joined him after a moment, your head bouncing up and down against his vibrating chest. Once your cackles pittered off to soft chuckles, he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple and running his fingers through your hair.

“I guess we need to make up for lost time, wouldn’t you agree?”

You shuffled your body upwards, dangling your face over his and bringing your lips close for another sugary kiss. “Indeed we do.”

***

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