#and how c could they lose anything right? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

abbotjack · 2 months ago

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(18+ only) nsfw alphabet– michael robinavitch .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪₊ ⊹˚

pairing : michael "robby" robinavitch x afab!reader

18+ MDNI—warning : explicit sexual content, use of cunt, rough sex, praise kink, post-sex intimacy, body worship, possessive language. this is just pure filth start to finish like oh my god...

a/n : no plot, just robby being hot, obsessed, and way too good at ruining your cunt. you're welcome. roughly 4,000 words... needless to say I was very passionate about this one as well. I also did one for dr. abbot!. anyways, happy pitt thursday & ty for 100 followers !

♡ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He treats aftercare like it’s an extension of the act itself—just as intimate, just as necessary. He pulls you against his chest immediately after, and murmurs, “You alright?” His voice is low and hoarse, lips ghosting your temple. He doesn’t rush. You’ll feel his fingers smoothing across your skin, touching every place he left red or trembling.

He wipes you down gently with a warm cloth—he never makes you do it yourself—and then pulls the blanket up over both of you. There’s a certain reverence in the way he laces your fingers together afterward. He might not always say the words, but it’s there: You’re mine. I’ve got you.

♡ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite on himself : His hands because they get to touch you. He’s obsessed with how much he can make you feel with just his fingertips. “Tell me where you want me,” he’ll whisper against your throat while teasing a finger down your thigh.

On you : Your mouth. Not just for what it does, but how it moves. The curve when you smile, the little intake of breath when you’re trying not to moan, the way it parts when he slides a finger into you and whispers something filthy against your ear.

He’s obsessed with the way you whimper against his kiss. Sometimes he’ll press his thumb into your bottom lip and say, “Let me see how much you want it.” And then watch—ruthlessly—as you fall apart

♡ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Robby finishes deep, every time. It’s instinctive. You clenching around him when he starts to lose control? That’s what does it. He’ll bury his face in your shoulder with a groan that sounds almost pained, holding you in place while he spills inside you. And afterward? He stays inside just a little too long. “Just… let me have this for a second.”

He loves watching it drip out of you after. Fingers gentle but greedy as he brushes it back in, eyes dark with a possessiveness he never voices out loud.

♡ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a thing for catching you in the middle of it.

Not touching yourself for him—not some showy, performed thing. No. He wants to catch you when you think he’s not there. When it’s real. Quiet. Desperate. Private.

That’s his secret.

He’s walked in on you once—half-asleep, legs spread, hand between your thighs, whispering his name under your breath without even realizing it. You didn’t notice him right away.

But he noticed everything.

The way your hips stuttered. The little gasp you made when your fingers brushed just right. The slick sound of you trying to get yourself off like it wasn’t already too much. The blush that crept up your chest when you finally looked over and saw him standing there, hard in his jeans, eyes dark, watching.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about it since.

And sometimes—he doesn’t mean to—but he lingers outside the bedroom door when you don’t know he’s home. Just listening. Breathing slow. Letting his cock throb in his hand while you whimper his name with your fingers buried inside you.

He won’t ask you to stop. He won’t interrupt.

♡ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Robby is the guy who doesn’t look like a heartbreaker, but you find out after that he could be. He’s had lovers—but he doesn’t throw it around casually. When he touches you, it’s obvious : he knows what he’s doing. His rhythm, his pressure, the way he reads your breath and adjusts in real time. Precision with heat.

And when you moan his name? His lips part, slow, like he’s drinking you in. “That’s it. Just like that. Good girl. Let me hear you.”

♡ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

In the privacy of the bedroom, Robby's preferred position is classic missionary. He loves to have you lying beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist, allowing for deep penetration and full-body contact. This position enables him to maintain eye contact, reading every nuance of your expressions, and to kiss you deeply, muffling shared moans.

What elevates this position for him is the intimacy it fosters. He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, synchronize his breathing with yours, and whisper sweet or filthy nothings directly into your ear. The ability to have his hands free to explore your body, caress your sides, or intertwine fingers adds layers to the connection. It's not just about the physical pleasure but the profound emotional bond it reinforces each time.

♡ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not really goofy—more warm. He’s serious when it counts, but he has this soft, crooked smirk when you laugh mid-kiss. He’ll say something under his breath like “You’re trouble, you know that?” while flipping you over. The humor is subtle—intimate. Like you’re in on something private.

♡ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s got a full bush, thick and dark, not out of neglect but because he doesn’t see the point in shaving something that feels natural. The hair down there is soft but dense, and when he’s hard? It frames his cock like it’s meant to be worshipped.

There’s a trail leading up from his pelvis—dark and straight. It’s the kind of thing you see once and can’t stop staring at, especially when his shirt rides up after a long shift and your eyes catch that line of hair leading down. He notices when you look. He always notices.

And let’s not skip the beard.

He loves burying his mouth between your thighs like it’s the only place he wants to be. His tongue is slow, deep, deliberate. His stubble drags across every tender inch, rough enough to leave you raw, just the way he knows you like it.

He shaved once.

He came out of the bathroom with a towel slung low, jaw bare, clean, pink in places where the razor caught. He looked at you—wet hair, smug expression, a glint in his eye like he thought he’d done something special.

Your eyes dragged over his face, down to the curve of his throat. Blank. Quiet. Then :

“You shaved.”

He nodded, a little too proud. “Figured I’d try something different.”

You didn’t answer. Just got under the covers, and faced the wall.

You didn’t fuck him for a week.

You still let him pull you close. Still let him kiss your neck. But your cunt stayed untouched, aching and slick in silence, because you chose to starve him with it. To remind him that this—you—has rules.

You waited until the stubble came back.

That night, you let him between your legs.

You didn’t speak. Just pulled him down and pressed your cunt to his mouth like something owed. He took it like an apology.

Now, he doesn’t forget. When he fucks you with his mouth, he does it slow. Thorough. Until you shake. Until you cry out. Until it’s more than just pleasure—it’s possession. His jaw works like he’s starving. Like he remembers every second of those nights you wouldn't let him have it.

When he pulls back—chin wet, lips parted—his breath ghosts over your skin. You’re flushed and trembling, still pulsing from the friction.

He looks up, voice wrecked, reverent.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

You exhale, heavy, jaw slack.

“You won’t.”

♡ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

When he’s in your bed, it’s not about sex—it’s about claiming space in your life. Every touch is intentional. Every glance lingers a second too long. Every thrust carries the weight of everything he doesn’t say out loud.

He gives his full attention, eyes locked on yours while his hands hold you still, and his voice drops in your ear :

“I want you to feel me tomorrow. I want you to remember this.”

And afterward? When your legs are still shaking and your mind’s gone foggy? He pulls you into his chest because you’re his. It's the kind of closeness that tells you—no one else gets this version of him.

♡ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Robby jerks off only when it’s necessary—when he’s so hard it aches, or when he’s had a day that pressed every damn button and he needs you to take the edge off… but you’re not there.

He always does it the same way : Back against the headboard, hand braced on his thigh, one slow stroke at a time while his eyes are shut and you’re the only thing in his head. Sometimes it’s your voice. Sometimes it’s the way your body looked the last time you collapsed under him.

He finishes hard, jaw clenched, chest rising. And every time? He mutters your name under his breath, like a confession he’s still trying to outrun.

♡ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He doesn’t just want to fuck you—he wants to manage you. Override your thoughts. Rewire what you associate with pleasure until the only thing you crave is his voice, his rules, his cock.

And he does it slow. He makes you ask. Not because he’s into power trips—but because he wants to hear you break.

“You want something, you say it. Use your words.”

“That tone won’t get you what you need, sweetheart.”

And when you finally say it—broken, desperate, voice shaking—he rewards you by giving all of himself, rough hands, heavy weight, deliberate thrusts that make you sob.

He’s into positional control—knees spread wide, hands behind your back, chin tilted up with one thick hand under your jaw. Not to scare you. To focus you.

You don’t look away. You don’t squirm.

You listen. You obey.

And when you don’t? He’ll stop mid-thrust, press his body flush to yours, and growl :

“Try that again. See what it gets you.”

When he puts you where he wants you and says, “Stay still while I fuck you,” —you do. Every time.

That’s the kink : You, undone. And him, fully in control of everything.

♡ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a bed man, 100%. Not because he’s boring—because he wants time, room, and access. Sheets pushed down. One knee between your thighs. He wants to make a mess.

But he does have a soft spot for the couch especially after a long day, when you curl into his side while watching something on TV, kiss his neck, and he doesn’t even bother pulling your pants all the way off before tugging you into his lap and sliding in from underneath.

♡ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

What gets Robby going?

You. Wanting him.

It’s the way you shift closer when you speak—like your body can’t help but chase him. The brush of your leg against his under the table, slow and unthinking, but your breath always catches after. The way your eyes dilate when he says your name low.

It’s instinct. Want in its rawest form. Not loud. Not deliberate. Just something in you pulling toward something in him.

And he notices.

Feels it in the silence. In the way your thighs tense when he stands too close. In the heat radiating off you when you pretend you’re not thinking about his hands on your skin. But you are. And he knows it.

And when you do ask?

That’s what does it.

Just a soft little please—barely above a whisper. His cock’s already hard in his pants, jaw tight, breath low and steady, because if he moves too fast, he’ll lose it.

And if you’re already wet when he checks?

He groans—low, rough, wrecked.

“Yeah. That’s all I fuckin’ need.”

Because that’s what gets him. Not performance. Not noise. Just need. Honest, helpless, soaked-through need.

The kind that has your cunt dripping just from the thought of him.

That kind of power? That kind of want?

He’ll fuck you senseless for it. Every time.

♡ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won’t turn sex into something cold and punishing.

You can tease him. Push him. You can mouth off just to see how long it takes for him to press you into the mattress and make you sorry you started it. He likes that. He likes the challenge.

But he doesn’t want cruelty. Not from you, not toward you.

The first time it comes up, it’s not even in bed.

You say it offhandedly—half a joke, half testing the waters. Something you read in a post, or a thread, or some comment section that said men like him—older, quiet, in control—like it mean. That they get off on making you cry. That pain is the point. That it’s not real unless it hurts.

And his reaction is immediate. Not angry—just quiet. Controlled. Serious in that way he gets when he needs you to listen.

He touches your chin, gently, turns your face toward him. Thumb brushing your cheek. His eyes on yours.

“No, honey. We don’t do that here.”

His voice is low, even.

“You want to be taken apart? Fine. You want to be mine? Good. But not like that.”

Then he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes.

He doesn’t care what you’ve read or what men like him are supposed to want—he’s not here to watch you cry just to feel powerful, not interested in pain that leaves you numb or pushing past what you can take just because you think that’s what gets him off.

He wants you honest, wanting, undone by pleasure. He’ll ruin you. Wreck you. Push you to the edge of something so intense it leaves you shaking.

But pain for pain’s sake? Anything that feels hollow, detached, or cruel?

That’s where he stops.

♡ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving?

Devotional. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t tease. He feasts. Like your thighs are the only place he wants to die.

One arm looped under your leg, the other gripping your hip. He’ll drag his tongue in deep, slow strokes until you’re begging. Not because he wants praise—because he wants you undone. Wants your thighs trembling, your voice high and ruined, your fingers scrabbling through his hair with desperate little gasps.

Receiving?

He loves it—but more because he likes watching you want it. The heat in your eyes, the way you look up while you suck him slow, spit slicking your lips. If you grip his thighs and choke a little, he’ll groan and push your hair back :

“Easy, sweetheart… take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

♡ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Controlled.

Not fast, not rough—measured. Like every thrust is calculated to make you feel exactly what he wants you to.

He’ll keep it slow until you’re practically begging, then snap his hips once—just once—and smirk when you whimper.

“That’s what you needed, huh?”

He’ll go harder when you ask. But his rhythm never loses that precision.

♡ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Robby doesn’t like quickies. Not really.

He wants time—wants to press his mouth to every inch of your skin, listen to the way your breath shifts, draw your orgasm out like he’s conducting it. Quickies cut corners, and Robby? Doesn’t like cutting corners.

But you? You’re standing just a little too close during a quiet stretch in the ER—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, voice barely above a whisper: “Please. I need you. Right now.”

And when you reach for his hand, tug him gently by the wrist toward the back hallway— He knows where you’re going. And he doesn’t stop you.

You slip into the empty on-call room. He’s two steps behind you, shutting the door with a quiet click and turning the lock.

His voice is low, sharp, already strained:

“You really want this here?”

You nod, out of breath.

“Please, Robby… I need it. I don’t care if it’s quick. I just—fuck—I need you inside me.”

That’s all it takes.

He’s on you in a second—one hand at your throat, the other already pushing you back against the wall. His mouth crashes into yours—filthy, impatient—and he grabs your scrub pants, yanking them down just enough to expose your thighs.

Your underwear stays on.

He hooks a finger under the elastic, pulls it to the side, and groans when he sees you—slick, swollen, already soaked for him.

“You came in here like this?” His voice is gravel now. “Fucking desperate for it?”

You nod again. Barely.

“Robby—please. I need you—need to feel you—”

He growls low in his throat and presses two fingers into you hard and fast, feeling you stretch around him, already pulsing.

“God, you’re fucking dripping.”

He pulls his cock out fast—thick, flushed, angry—and lines himself up without another word. Then, still holding your underwear to the side, he drives into you in one brutal thrust.

You gasp—loud—and his hand’s at your mouth now, pinning you to the wall with his weight.

“Shhh. Be quiet for me. You wanted this so bad, now take it.”

The rhythm is relentless. Fast. Deep. Ruined in five minutes flat. Your hands scramble at his back. Your forehead presses to his collarbone. You’re so full, so fucked, all you can do is sob into his palm as your orgasm crashes over you way too soon.

He fucks you through it. Doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down. Just grits out,

“That’s it. Just like that. Come around me. God, you feel fucking perfect—”

When he spills inside you, it’s with a broken moan into your shoulder, hips jerking, fingers gripping your waist like he’s trying to hold himself together.

After? He pulls out slow. Gently tucks himself away. Adjusts your underwear back into place and helps you with your pants. Then brushes his thumb along your lower lip where you bit down too hard.

“Next time? You wait until we’re off shift. So I can do that right.”

But you know—The next time you beg?

He’s going to cave again.

He doesn’t like quickies. But for you? He’ll fuck you like it’s the last five minutes of his life.

♡ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Robby’s not reckless. But behind closed doors? He’ll try anything once—as long as it comes with trust.

You want to be tied up? He’ll get a rope. You want to try temperature play? He’s already warming the oil. But he needs to know you’re there with him, not playing a part.

♡ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Two to three rounds, easily—if not more, depending on the day.

And in between rounds? He doesn’t check out. He kisses you. Runs his fingers through your hair. Stays in it.

You won’t even realize he’s hard again until he’s flipping you over, saying, “We're not done yet.”

♡ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Selective. But curious. He keeps a viberator in the nightstand drawer—not for you to use alone, but for him to hold against you while he’s buried inside you.

“Let go. Come on. Let me feel it.”

He’s also into remote-control toys. The idea of having you wear one while you sit across the table at dinner? Knowing he could ruin you the second you tease him?

Yeah. He’s thought about it. A lot.

♡ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He lives to tease. Not cruelly—strategically. He’ll keep you on the edge for hours. Pull away right before you come. Make you ride him slow until your voice breaks.

And the whole time? He’ll say shit like:

“You want to come? Say it. Say it like you mean it.”

And when you finally do? He’ll give it to you. Hard. Without hesitation. But only once he’s dragged every drop of want out of you first.

♡ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunts. Groans. Low curses whispered into your neck. The sound he makes when he comes is rough.

And when you ride him, slow and deep? He’ll let out this low, desperate moan into your chest that sounds like he’s trying to hold himself back and failing.

That sound? It’s all because of you.

♡ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He kept the first pair of underwear you left at his place. Not to be creepy. Not to sniff or jerk off to. Just… because.

They’re in the back of his drawer, folded neatly like he might give them back, but he won’t. It’s a memento. A reminder of the first night you stayed. The first night you were his.

♡ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thick. Heavy. Veined. He’s not porn-star long, but he doesn’t need to be—the girth alone is enough to make you gasp every time.

You feel him with your whole body. Even when he’s just rubbing the tip through your slick folds, your hips buck involuntarily, desperate for him to fill you. Stretch you. Keep you full until your thighs shake.

And he knows it. Smirks when he catches the way you hesitate right before he pushes in.

“Too much?” he’ll murmur, nudging at your entrance with slow, deliberate pressure.

“You can take it. You always do.”

He presses all the way in, holds there while your body adjusts. He doesn’t fuck like he’s showing off. He fucks like he’s memorizing you with it. Like he’s been thinking about it all day.

And when he pulls out, slow and slick and aching, you’re already sore. Already wanting it again.

♡ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Robby can hold off for days. Weeks, even. But when he finally has you?

He’s starving.

He doesn’t just want your body. He wants you wrecked. Tearing up. Shaking. Pressing your mouth to his neck so no one hears how hard you come for him.

He wants you craving him just as badly. Not for show. Not for ego. Because that’s the part he hides from everyone else—how badly he needs you when he doesn’t have you.

And when he’s buried in you, deep and slow, holding your wrists down above your head, mouth at your throat, voice shaking from restraint?

That’s when you hear it : “I’ve needed this. You have no idea how fucking much.”

♡ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You fall asleep on your side, facing him. One arm draped over his chest, leg tangled between his, skin still hot from where your bodies were pressed tight.

You’re bare.

Still flushed.

Still soft all over, your thighs sticky, your cunt sore and slick from how deep he took you.

And Robby’s still wide awake. Lying flat on his back, one hand resting on the dip of your waist—but his eyes?

They’re on you.

He watches the way your breath slows, the way your mouth parts slightly, the way your fingers twitch against his ribs while you sleep. You’re loose now. Limp and warm and completely undone—and he still feels you, everywhere.

Your stomach rises and falls against him in slow, perfect rhythm. There’s a faint line on your hip—stretch mark, scar, something you used to try and hide.

He sees it.

He loves it.

He traces it lightly with his thumb, barely a touch.

He wants to move.

Wants to roll you onto your back, lick into your cunt until you're whimpering again, make you take him slow all over.

Wants to feel you twitch when he whispers things he never says out loud—like how badly he wants to keep you like this forever he literally has a ring hidden in his nightstand but that’s besides the point.

But he doesn’t. You’re asleep. Spent. Trusting him with your whole body.

So he shifts in a little closer. Presses a kiss to your shoulder. Lets his palm settle over your hip, wide and warm and claiming. Because for now, that’s enough.

Eventually, his eyes will close.

But not yet.

Not when you’re still glowing from what he did to you.

#can you guys tell I am a beard supporter #the pitt #michael robinavitch x reader #noah wyle #dr robby #michael robinavitch #dr robby x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #the pitt hbo #smut

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aajjks · 9 months ago

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every hour, every minute. (m)

synopsis. jungkook can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.

warnings. 18+ explicit s-x, k-ssing , unpr-tected s-x [BE SMART IRL AND WRAP IT!] b-iting , obsessed jk, he is so lovesick :((, but he’s very horny, rough s-x, he fucks you between a door n him, strong jk, borderline yandere jk 😵‍💫🫡

note. hihi ! Plz send asks because I love you all also warning, this is messy n cringe. PLZ SEND THIRST ASKS ANYTIME OR JUST ASKS TALK TO MEEEEE! share feedback!

*not edited*

Jungkook has no self control when it comes to you.

You are irresistible to him, he is so helpless when it comes to you. What is it about that gets him so hot and bothered, just one look at you? He’s hard.

You get him so horny without doing anything at all, you’re washing dishes? He’s mesmerised by you, with the way your hands work, the way you’re so focused on doing them.

All of it gets to him. He feels so dumb, he should feel disgusting at himself for being so horny about the most normal things you do.

It’s disgusting, but he can’t control it. You’d be so embarrassed if you could hear his thoughts, you’d leave him.

He’s so addicted to fucking you, feeling you in the deepest and most intimate way he can, your lips, your nose, your damn e/c eyes, that seductive gaze you give him.

You’re the most sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on,

If only people knew just how much of a whore Jungkook is for his woman. They’d find him pathetic. He doesn’t give a single fuck though.

You are his. He could fuck you forever and he wouldn’t get tired. God, he loves you so much.

Jungkook isn’t good with words or let alone expressing his feelings out loud, he is obsessed with you, he’s so crazy for you but he is unable to express it.

Unless it’s through intimacy.

So that’s why he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat, breathing so loudly into your ear as you yelp, breathless, his large palm holding the back of your neck so you’re looking straight into his wild brown eyes, clouded with love.

“Fuck— love you s’much princess!” Jungkook confesses into the shell of your ear, his voice rough and husky, you can’t respond because the high of the pleasure is too much for you to handle. He knows your body so well.

He knows your spots.

Your man knows how to fuck you so good, you whimper, your nails scratching on his skin, he’s so strong, holding your legs effortlessly when you lose yourself into him.

He feels so good inside you. You’re sure you see stars right now.

He pounds into that spot once again and you moan out loud, digging your nails once again into his flesh. Jungkook grunts, it spurs him on more, the man is a stallion, holding you in place while rutting into you feverishly.

“S-So good, kookie!” You praise your husband. Jungkook bites your nipple and gives it a gentle pinch, driving you insane.

“My baby, fuck… love you so fucking much.” He presses his lips impatiently to yours, his kiss is passionate, swallowing your breath.

“‘m gonna fuck you so good because you deserve it baby, I love you so much.”

He is so passionate, so gentle yet rough. You could never get used to his touch truly, it still makes your skin ignite, just one touch and your body’s on fire.

“My princess.” He finally stops kissing you. “Hope you have the energy because we’re not going to sleep tonight.”

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who-is-there · 1 year ago

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I just started watching Dimension 20’s Fantasy high, halfway through sophomore year, and I do want a fic where people realise just how used to being part of a group the bad kids are. For example-

-I fully believe every single one of them is used to Riz climbing them so he can see better. It’s usually Gorgug, but it’s happened to all of them at some point. They might hold out their arm for him to jump onto a counter, or so he can pin a clue to his board. Before they all sit at a table, at least one of them makes sure their 4’4 friend can jump onto the table.

-Every single one of them has also caught Adaine after she had a vision. Sometimes she can just shake them off, but the big ones make her falter in what she’s doing, which can be dangerous. It happened once in a fight, and now the people standing closest to her are always ready.

-Fabian doesn’t really recognise he has a blind spot with his eye injury, because the others immediately clocked it. But this also means they walk in between him and the road, in case some idiot mounts the curb. They keep an eye on anything to his right, shifting drinks and pushing chairs if they can tell his depth perception is a little off.

-Fig usually stands in the middle of the group to intimidate people into not messing with them, so it’s sort of become habit to just crowd around her. After the battle, if no one’s seriously hurt or anything, everyone just wanders over to Fig. At this point, Fig is always the first one to yell out after a fight, just so they can regroup.

-Gorgug is the go-to for lap-sits, leaning, anything to do with being physically supported by another persons body. His hoodie is soft, and his headphones are loud enough that you can kind of hear it if you’re leaning on him. His parents weren’t great with nonchalant physical contact, in case he was already upset, so he takes great joy in his friends not being scared to hug him for fun.

-Kristin has left her staff at every single house she could with the bad kids. She leaves her bag in classrooms, the library, the cafeteria. Whenever the group leave somewhere, they do a full scan, because Kristin has probably left something and they grab it for her. No one has any clue who her bag actually belongs to, because all of the bad kids have been seen carrying it around school several times.

The school at large know who the bad kids are, and the town recognise them, but they still don’t know why all of them double check a room before leaving, or collectively carry a small stool around with them. One student with a fantasy iron deficiency faints in class and Kristin catches her before she hits the ground. Once, Fig isn’t in school for a day and all the bad kids have this restless energy about them. It is not uncommon to see them on the field during lunch, curled up in a pile on Gorgug. One guy tries to surprise Fabian from the right and gets body checked by Adaine before it even registers.

It’s sort of uncomfortable for everyone to see any of them without the others, because it means a) the rest of them committed a crime, b) the rest of them are committing a crime, or c) the rest of them are about to run in and start planning to commit a crime. And no one wants to lose their plausible deniability here.

#fantasy high #riz gukgak #gorgug thistlespring #figeroth faeth #fabian seacaster #adaine abernant #kristen applebees #dimension 20 #the bad kids

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jaegerbby · 2 years ago

Text

➳ inculpatus

--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 5800

╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.

╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.

not proof read!

he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.

"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.

"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.

sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.

"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."

he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."

you perk up immediately.

"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.

you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.

your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.

his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.

he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.

it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.

"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?

he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.

"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.

he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.

"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.

your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.

your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.

"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.

your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.

his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.

the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.

"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.

you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.

"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.

you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.

you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.

the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.

he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.

your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.

the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving

"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.

you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.

his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.

you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.

"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.

it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.

"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.

he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.

his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.

"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.

a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.

"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.

he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.

"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.

he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.

when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.

your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.

your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.

"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.

you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.

when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.

"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.

like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.

he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.

your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.

there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.

he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.

you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.

his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.

"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.

"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.

he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."

he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.

you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.

"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.

your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.

"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.

he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.

"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.

you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.

it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.

his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.

you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.

"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.

the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.

your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.

your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.

squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.

"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.

satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.

your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.

he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.

your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.

no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.

your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.

satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.

satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.

"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.

the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.

satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.

your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.

you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.

"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.

"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.

"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.

his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.

he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress.

"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.

the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.

"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.

he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.

"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.

"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.

satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.

"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.

satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.

"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.

"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.

"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."

his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.

your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.

you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.

you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.

his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.

yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.

the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.

he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.

you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.

when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.

your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.

"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.

finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.

he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.

satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.

you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.

he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.

"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.

"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.

"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.

his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.

"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.

his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.

"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.

"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.

the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.

"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.

"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.

he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.

you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.

your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.

"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.

he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.

"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.

"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.

satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.

you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.

he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?

"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.

you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.

you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.

"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.

you are his, you are all his. you have to be.

he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.

he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.

"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.

satoru cannot get enough of you.

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bruhstories · 5 months ago

Text

decompress

summary: you and silco are business partners pairing: silco x afab!reader warnings: minors dni - swearing, smoking, fingering, lil handjob, unprotected p in v, creampie, some fluff. w/c: 1.6k

a/n: listen, i know this is shit but i need to get back into writing somehow and this is practice. liking and reblogging are heavily encouraged cause i am losing motivation from the lack of interactions lol

Sometimes Silco needed to decompress, to unwind and relax. It wasn't often that he visited you, and every time he did, he swore to never step foot in your establishment again. But you knew better. You knew he always returned. Maybe not in a week, not in a month, but he always came back.

You were a useful tool to him. The owner of the most well-known brothel in Zaun, you always made sure to inform him of anything your girls found out through an effective weapon, one better than guns, blades, or magic — sex. Enforcers, Zaunites, councillors, they all visited your establishment, and they all left breadcrumbs that you pieced up together and sent to Silco. He tried to hire you, but you wanted freedom, and he respected that. He wanted the same for Zaun, and so Silco would've been a hypocrite if he forced you to work for him. Besides, you did him plenty of favours, enough to grant you and your employees independence and protection. It was a partnership that worked perfectly fine.

He entered through the back door, not wanting anyone to spot him visiting a brothel of all places, and he always greeted you the same way — his dagger pressed against your throat, his free hand wrapped around your waist, his breath tickling your ear. It was a power move, one you allowed him to have because you knew he wouldn't hurt you. He needed you in more ways than one.

"Business or pleasure?" You asked him, unable to contain the smile spread on your crimson lips.

"Pleasure." His whisper sent chills down your spine.

You got one of your most trustworthy girls to swap places at the front desk, then lead Silco up the creaky stairs. The corridor was dim and smelled of jasmine and vanilla incense to help your clients relax. At the very end of it was your room, one that Silco was too familiar with. You locked the door after he entered, then slowly untied the knot that held your dress in place, only for him to smack your hands out of the way.

"How many?" "None." You told him, but his fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

"How many men have you fucked since I last visited you?" Silco clarified, as if you didn't know what he was asking.

"None." You reiterated, manicured fingernails dragging down his chest until they found his belt. "You don't believe me?"

"No, I don't." Silco scoffed, his right eye twitching when he felt your hand palming his cock through black trousers.

"Jealous?" You bit your lip grinning at him.

"Don't mock me." His fingers dug into the plush of your hips, pushing you against the wooden door. "You're nothing but a cheap whore."

"Ouch." You pouted, feigning offence. "I'll let you know I'm an expensive whore."

"And yet I never paid for your... services." Silco's hand trailed up your thigh and you whimpered at his touch.

"That's cause you're my favourite client." You gently unbuttoned his vest, letting it fall on the floor.

"Is that all I am to you, then? A client?"

"Business partner." You corrected yourself. "Better?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he crushed your lips under his while you gripped his silk shirt and tore it open, buttons clattering on the floor. He didn't care — you had spares in your wardrobe for him. Silco yanked a fistful of your hair to look at you, at the smeared lipstick and the eyes full of lust. There was one thing he could never understand.

"Why aren't you disgusted by my face?"

You were taken aback by his question. He wasn't much of a talker during your meetings, unless it was business you discussed. He held your head in place, forcing you to look him in the eye, but you didn't want to look any other way. Your hand reached out, fingers ghosting over his scar.

"There's nothing wrong with your face, Silco. You're beautiful."

"Tsk. Are you saying this as my business partner, or as an expensive whore?" He scoffed.

"As me. I'm saying it as me."

You weren't trying to flatter him, to get under his skin. You were genuine with your answer, and it annoyed him. It was as though Silco almost wanted you to lie to him when you told him he was beautiful. But no, you were honest, and it riled him up, because that meant you weren't afraid of him, that you didn’t loathe him. He pulled you away from the door and bent you over the desk inside your room, but you wriggled and turned around, not once wanting to look anywhere but at him.

"Why can't you hate me?" His elbow pushed your knee away, spreading your legs for him.

The lack of response from you almost confirmed his suspicions — you felt something for him, something more than professionalism. And how could your partnership be professional when violently pulled off your lace underwear, and his fingers rubbed circles over your clit? How could it be professional when he easily slipped his fingers past your slick folds, and you fucked yourself on them? How could there be any ounce of professionalism left when you unzipped his trousers and fisted his cock while he tossed his head back, your name spilling from his lips?

No, there wasn't anything professional anymore.

His tip pushed into you painstakingly slowly, until you arched your back and curled your toes, accidentally pushing away the trinkets on your desk. The rattling sound didn't bother any if you, and you wrapped your legs around Silco's waist, and your arms around his shoulders to feel him closer to you. Skin on skin, soul to soul, the desk squeaked with each thrust, each push and pull, and like magnets, you were drawn to each other.

He nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent — roses, patchouli, and him. You smelled so much like him that it intoxicated his brain worse than shimmer could. He believed you. He believed that you didn't fuck anyone else but him, and as a reward, he thrusted into you faster, deeper, harder, just how you liked it. Just how he liked it.

His name was a prayer on your lips and music to his ears. It didn't sound so good when other spoke it. The way you whispered it was intimate, sensual, loving. You loved him. Truly, you did, and you were willing to give everything up for him if he just asked. But he never did. He only came back to fuck you, never to claim you. And you weren't one to beg. Besides, it was better to have him in your bed, or your desk, than to not have him at all.

Electricity seeped into your veins every time he touched you, and Silco tilted your chin up to once again look into your glossy eyes, eyes he always saw when he closed his. Short black strands of hair framed his face, softening his sharp features, and he was so handsome like that. You were a work of art yourself, with your smeared lipstick, long thick lashes and beads of sweat on your forehead. And he asked again.

"Why can't you hate me?"

Silco used your own weapon against you, because the pure pleasure that bubbled in your core broke down all of your defence mechanisms. You were vulnerable and weak, caught in his web of mind games and power play. You tried to deny it, tried to wriggle your way out of it, but you couldn't. Not anymore.

"I love you."

Eyes squeezed shut, you refused to look at him, ashamed not of the squelching sounds and smell of sex, but of your confession. Love made people weak — weaknesses could be exploited. And you refused to be exploited.

"Good." Silco brutally slammed into you, your words like fuel to his fire. "You took too long."

You blinked once, twice, then stared at him in disbelief. Before your brain could form any thoughts, he kissed you, bruising your lips, and his taste lingered on your tongue when he pulled back — tobacco, whiskey, shimmer. He was the drug you eagerly abused, and you were his. You were entirely his, mind, body and soul.

"Forever." He murmured into your skin. "You’re mine forever."

You could feel he meant every single word. He didn’t have to say he loved you for you to know it, and that was enough to gasp and pathetically moan his name as you reached your climax. Your cunt clenched around him, your fingers almost breaking through his skin from the pressure of your grip to just feel him impossibly closer to you. You were made for each other, even if it was difficult for him to comprehend how or why. He was a broken man, broken beyond repair, beyond salvation, beyond redemption. And you loved him just like that.

His hips stuttered, the frantic thrusts a signal of his climax. You held him in your arms as he eased out of you, leaving you feeling empty, despite his cum dripping down your thigh. Silco sighed, his lean body heavy against yours. The haunting silence in your bedroom was soon broken.

"Marry me." "What?" You did a double take, slightly pushing him away to get a better look of him.

He scoffed, reaching into the drawer under your desk to take a cigar you had ready for him.

"Well, you won’t bloody work for me. Work with me, then." Silco exhaled the thick smoke. "As my equal."

"Very weird way to propose." You chuckled. But what else did you expect from him? He was not an ordinary man. And you were not an ordinary woman.

"Yes or no?" He passed you the cigar, and you took it, then kissed him on his scarred cheek.

"Yes. But you’re doubling my security."

"And you’re moving in."

"Deal."

#silco x reader #silco x you #silco x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #silco smut #arcane smut #silco #arcane #afab reader

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bartxnhood · 12 days ago

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god given solace | bucky barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: in which bucky realizes just how in love he is with you.

w/c: 1k

a/n: hey guys!! i know you must get tired of me saying the same thing lol but i decided to write again. i have been sooo busy these past few months. trying to navigate adult life with graduation and my new job, plus i had a surgery that knocked me off my feet but i have been ITCHING to write. so, even though this is small, i hope you all enjoy!!!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧

bucky never knew he could love until he met you. all of those sleepless nights, begging, praying to any gods out there just to make them stop. he just wanted peace, no more war, no hydra, no night terrors, and no more fighting.

he wasn’t aware that love is what he so desperately needed. someone to soothe those nightmares, to hold him close and hush him during the worst moments of his life.

but, bucky was convinced he was not capable of being loved. because, who in their right mind would love someone as tortured and damaged as him?

after all, that’s what he was. damaged goods.

but you? god, you were the purest things he had ever seen. you were like an angel that came before him, cascading in white light and warmth every time your gaze lingers on the super soldier.

even now, watching you from the doorway of your shared balcony, bucky finds himself unable to take his eyes off your frame. sometimes, he felt pathetic for the life he harbored for you. trapped in the memory of your first encounter.

relishing in the memories that he looked back on so fondly.

you, the angel, being the only person who could see through bucky. through the “i’m fine” and the “don’t worries” he’d spill, you never put up with his lies.

“you can’t fool me, barnes” you’d say while wrapping your arms around his midsection. bucky sighed as he rubbed his temples, “i know..” there was absolutely no fooling you.

“you can tell me anything, buck..” you pressed a kiss on his shoulder, just above where the metal began.

“does it hurt?”

bucky shakes his head, “no, not right now.”

he’d find himself leaning against the glass door, his eyes trained on your figure as you lean against the metal railing. the skyline of brooklyn in the distance, the moonlight shining on your skin, which only convinced him further into believing you were some sort of angel that was meant for him.

you could do no wrong in his eyes, you could commit a thousand crimes and bucky would still look at you like you hung the moon and stars for him. still, in the end, he felt satisfied knowing that you were his. his to shower with affection, to whisper sweet words in the middle of the night as your bodies lie tangled beneath the sheets of the dark bedroom. not even death could pry you from him.

in the beginning, he tried his hardest not to succumb to his feelings for you. he didn’t want to get attached because attachments always lead to heartbreak, and bucky didn’t know if he could handle another heartbreak.

but you were incredibly persistent, and ultimately it worked.

“i love you..” the words would spill from his lips like honey; the words came so naturally for him, easy as breathing.

the worst left a sweet taste in his mouth.

you turn on your heels just as those words left his lips.

“what?” you laugh, not at him though, but because it was random and very rarely did he. not that he doesn’t love you, but because he doesn’t want the words to lose their meaning.

“i love you,” he repeats as he walks towards you. his hand finds home on your lower back, his fingertips memorizing the texture of your skin that peeked from your sleep shirt.

you smile, hands coming to rest on both of his forearms, and for just a moment, bucky swore he could feel the warmth of your touch against his bionic arm. if he closed his eyes, he could picture it.

“i love you too, james.” you called him every nickname in the book, but sometimes it felt better calling him by his real name. especially in an intimate moment like this.

your brows furrow, his fingers digging into your skin like he’s afraid you’ll slip from his grip. like you’re a figment of his imagination. “what’s wrong..?” you inquire, hands moving from his arms to the base of his neck. fingers entangling with his hair.

bucky shakes his head, “nothing, i just..i just love you s’all”.

you smile, looking into his baby blues that held so much affection when looking at you. like you were the only thing in the universe.

he loved spending his time with you, being in your presence, wrapping his arms around you, and finding peace. no nightmares, no flashbacks, no regrets, just you. just your soothing voice, the stillness of your breathing as you lie next to him. he was so in love with you.

“you are so..beautiful..” bucky found it hard to find a word to describe you. you weren’t just beautiful, you were so much more. you carried this gentleness about you that made him feel at home. home. you were his home.

a smile spreads on your face, a quiet giggle stuck in your throat as you watch his eyes rake over your figure. “bucky..”

“m’serious,” he mumbles. he pulls you closer against his frame, his lips pressing fleeting kisses just below your earlobe.

“you sure you’re okay?” you ask again, your hands still resting at the base of his neck.

“mhm,” he’s still pressing kisses to your flesh, relishing in your signature scent. a gentle reminder that you’re real.

“buck,” your words cut him off, hands finding either side of his face. “cmon..what’s goin on?”

“i don’t say it enough.” he was reluctant to pull away, but he was looking in your eyes again. his hands moved from your lower back to your waist, now. thumbs massaging circles absentmindedly.

you press your lips into a thin smile, tilting your head to the side while your fingers push some hair from his eyes. “oh..bucky..”

“no,” he shakes his head.

“you are my god given solace, y/n. you know that?”

you’re a bit taken aback by his sudden words, your hands pausing their movements. “what?”

“i know it hasn’t been easy to love me, but you’ve been there for me” he’s rambling now, wanting to get his words out while he still has it on his mind. “you’ve shown me love, doll” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, letting it linger for a moment.

“you saved me.”

#bartxnhood writes #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes drabble #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel x gender neutral reader #marvel x female reader #marvel x reader #marvel fluff

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10yrsyart · 3 months ago

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a long tf sketchdump i started after watching Transformers One last year, which was great btw! (also Soundwave is one of my faves but he somehow didn't make it into this, RIP my guy 🥺 to be fair, most of these are the beginnings of ideas that don't reach conclusion so -shrug-)

also also, i watched TFA for the first time, and i CANNOT believe they really just squished my boy Blurr into a cube while still alive and left him like that 😤 i know the show got cancelled and they had plans to bring him back, but like, hotdang! SO of course i decided to slap some claustrophobia on that sucker. y'know, as a treat ✨

transcript:

(Chitty Chitty Bang Bang design) -Neutral non-combatant

-Came to Earth early, joined the races

-Lost most of her memories after the Crash

-Forgot to act non-sentient around the family who adopted her

(Wander Over Yonder designs)

Hatertron: UgggHH! That STUPID, orange Autobug, GAH, I could just wring his ne-

Peeperscream: SIR!! FOCUS!

-Wander is a Neutral Autobot sympathizer

-Sylvia is an Autobot, but protective of Wander

-Hater messes up so many plans, Peepers is the only reason Megatron hasn't figured it out

-Peepers admires Starscream's intellect, but avoids him at all costs

(TFA comic)

Rodimus Prime: Uhm, Agent Blurr? ..You good?

Agent Blurr: Rodimus-Prime-sir! There's-nothing-wrong, why-would-anything-be-wrong? This-is-a-party; a-celebration-for-the-Autobots'-GRAND-victory-over-Megatron, which-we're-all-overjoyed-about-so-there's-really-no-reason-to-be-worried-about-the-amount-of-mechs-and-femmes-in-this-room-of-which-there-is-a-perfectly-normal-number-for-a-celebration, and-it's-not-as-if-we've-reached-max-capacity-so-I'm-SURE-the-space-is-NOT-too-small-even-if-the-walls-are-getting-closer-and-closer-and-no-one-seems-to-care-that-it's-too-small-in-here-and-can't-vent-I-can't-I-I-c-I-ca-

Rodimus: Whoa, hey! Ok, ok, let's go outside for a bit, yeah? I'm tired of people asking it I'm “still infected” anyway... Like, obviously. It's Cosmic Rust.

Blurr: ...This-is-humiliating, completely-pathetic-behavior. I-am-a-professionally-trained-intelligence-agent-of-the-Elite-Guard, THEREfore-I-should-not-be-losing-my-composure-whenever-I-enter-a-room. But-I-begin-to-feel-trapped-and-I-I-I-I-can't-...

Rodimus: ..Yeah. Sometimes, I just- freeze. It feels like ice is crawling up my arms and legs and chasiss.. it hurts. I mean, I know it's not happening, but that's how I feel. It sucks. But we made it, we survived. It's still hard, but there's gotta be something to that, right? The effort and struggle is worth it, or whatever.

Blurr: With-all-due-respect, I'm-quite-sure-you-are-terrible-at-this-sir.

Rodimus: Dang. Alright, fine, that's fair. But do you feel better?

Blurr: Marginally, thank-you-Rodimus-Prime.

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rottenherbs · 5 months ago

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A Weasley Holiday

Pairing: G.W x Reader Request: May I ask for a George Weasley x reader where they have been dating for a while and he invites her to spend Christmas at the burrow and it's all fluffy? W/C: 2.1k A/N: I’m sorry this actually took me like 7 days to write this and I don't know why. I was having such a hard time with story building it was stupid! Anyway, I hope it's okay, I honestly wanted to scrap it and start it over for like a third time. [masterlist] Much Love, Saige

Lively and warm, George and you were finishing up your dinner in the great hall, both entirely engulfed in each other's presence. Life was bright with him, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“No way Sirius would beat Lupin in a fist fight” You chuffed, leaning forward to take another bite of food.

“Oh please. Lupin has all the height he needs!” George yelped, his voice only slightly more auditable over the bustling students in the hall. “Plus, he is scrappy. I think the scar says it all” He wagged his eyebrows, watching you lean back in laughter.

George’s heart was full anytime he made you laugh. It became his personal achievement to see you smile every day. It gave him satisfaction in his own ego (of course) that he could make you laugh, but also he melted every time he watched how your entire body reacted, slapping the table and holding your stomach whenever one was particularly good.

“Alright alright. Well maybe we'll have to pin them against each other just to see.” You came down from your fit, trying to catch your breath. Captivated in your beauty, George sat for a moment, just admiring you. Little did you know he’d been wracking his brain to find a good time to ask you to come home with him over the holiday break. He was terrified that you’d reject the idea, though part of him understood that you’d want to go be with your own family.

Conflicted, he took a deep breath in, realizing now is as good a time as any to ask. Clearing his throat, he reached across the table, his hand covering yours. The change of energy was startling, your eyes suddenly fixated on him.

“What’s wron-“ you started

“I’d love for you to spend Christmas with me. At the burrow.” He cut you off, speaking incredibly quickly, the words falling off of his lips. He felt that he needed to say it immediately or he’d lose all confidence in himself.

The anxiety filled in your chest was replaced with a swell of relief. Your shoulder slumped, the question much less serious than you were anticipating.

“I'd absolutely love to.” You flipped his hand over, now rubbing the top of his knuckles. A wide smile growing on his face. You swore you could feel the excitement through his fingertips, practically knocking both of your drinks over on the table from shaking your hand dramatically.

He gripped your hand tightly, bringing it to his lips with a small kiss.

“You’re mine. All winter break” He mumbled. It was more to himself than anything, but the words could have made you packed your bags right then and there.

—

Later that month, you were alone in your dormitory, the final morning at Hogwarts before the holiday break. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you looked around your room, silently acknowledging to yourself that when you come back to this room, you and George would have spent an entire month together, outside of school grounds with no interruptions.

Packing your trunk felt different this time around, even though you were packing the same items you came with, the idea that you’d soon be unpacking it in a whole new house made you nervous. You were beyond grateful that George and his family opened their home to you, especially during the holiday season, but you couldn’t help being anxious that they maybe in the slightest chance… might not like you.

Folding your last set of school robes, you tucked in your undergarments, making it near to impossible for anyone to find amongst your items. Closing the trunk, you stopped and took one more look around the room, looking for anything you may have left behind. Accepting that you were procrastinating the inevitable, you set off for the common room, ready to meet up with George and head out together.

Stepping down the staircase, you spotted him alone. His hands were tucked in his pockets looking up at you. His neck was swaddled in a colorful handmade scarf along with a matching hat; only his eyes and nose peer through. You giggled quietly as you came down the stairs. He stayed quiet, waiting for you to get closer.

“Are you warm enough?” You smirked, snaking your arm around his, pulling him towards the door. His laugh was muffled through the scarf, his body limp, making it harder to move him from his spot.

“Uh, huh - you take one step outside and see for yourself! I ought to get you a hat too for your little ears.” George playfully nudged, finally walking alongside you down the hallway.

“Little ears?”

“Yes, little ears that will freeze off.” He whispered, leaning down speaking in a low unnerving voice, his breath making the hairs on your neck stand up.

“At last! I won’t have to hear you snore the whole break!” You declare loudly, looking up at George. With only his eyes visible, you could still see the shock and appall spread across his face, only making you laugh harder.

—

The train ride was pleasant. You, George, and Fred all shared a compartment in the back of the train, both of them huddled together in deep conversation.

For most of the trip you looked out the window, enjoying the snowy landscapes along with George’s hand in yours. Him and his brother exchanged ideas the whole way home about their escapades and plans for their skiving snack box and the implications of something larger — like a brick and mortar store. It was something that you admire deeply about them both; their ability to work towards their dream, even though the pessimistic feelings of their mother.

Tuning them out, you rested your head on the window sill, falling asleep to the sound of their voices and the rhythmic bump of the train car.

—

You woke up to a light kiss on the cheek, George's lips bringing you back to reality. The train car was empty except you two, Fred already out of the compartment and down the hall.

“Come on, we can relax more later.” He urged, lifting you lightly from your seat. With his hand still in yours, you both left the train, quickly enveloped with the sounds of reuniting families and laughter as students connected with their loved ones.

”Ah My Boys!” A tall man exclaimed, easily recognizable as Mr. Weasley, his tall frame and red hair mimicking those of the twins. George squeezed your hand, bringing you over to his family. Along with Mr. Weasley was Mrs. Weasley, a large bustling woman, moving around quickly taking in each child with a long strong hug. Turning to face you and George, she smiled sweetly, bringing her hands to your face, cupping your cheeks.

“Ah. The girl George can't stop talking about. Welcome dear, we are happy to have you.” She pulled you into a hug as well, her perfume powerful yet comforting.

You glanced at George during the encounter, a pleasant sense of satisfaction across his face as his mother held you close. Your addition to the group felt natural and he couldn't help but imagine future trips home with him, bringing you back to the parents time and time again.

Soon the whole group was ushered into a fireplace, each witch or wizard taking their turn traveling with floo powder to the burrow. The sensation was abrupt, only using the floo network a few times, you arrived in a clumsy fashion, your knees buckling as you arrived, falling into a pile of ash. Getting your bearings, you stood up, brushing the soot off your clothes as best you could before being captivated by the warmth and chaotic energy of your new environment.

Stumbling just out the fireplace, you made way for the next Weasley family member to arrive, looking around in your own time. Small moving pictures of each sibling were placed neatly above the fireplace, decorated beautifully with holly berries. The house smelt of pine and wood, large hand knit blankets laid haphazardly over each chair, inviting you to sneak under one and fall into a deep sleep.

Breaking you from your trance, a large crack echoed against the walls informing you that you were not alone anymore. Turning back to the fireplace, your eyes connected with George, his hand already outstretched to meet you.

“This place is wonderful.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his torso. He rocked you back and forth slightly, absolutely absorbed with the reality that you were actually in his childhood home.

“Here, allow me to give you a tour.” He released his grip from your body, pulling you towards the kitchen, bringing you around the house. Your eyes traveled around the rooms, small objects moving on their own, completing small household tasks. The dishes were washing themselves, a blanket was being knit in the corner of the living room, and a large broom was sweeping up the dirt that dispersed from the fireplace by your footsteps. You listened intently as he brought you to a large staircase, winding up for several floors. You were taken back by how tall the house was, unable to discern that front the inside.

Taking you up the stairs, your heart raced. You were excited to see his room, how it was decorated, how it was shaped and sized. You always thought one's childhood bedroom said a lot about a person. Climbing the stairs, it felt like you both were out of breath as you arrived in front of a single door. George turned and faced you before opening it.

“Now, just let me say - “ He cleared his throat, “we are trying to get the smell out I promise.” Your eyes widened in suspicion, all of a sudden hesitant of walking in. Creaking the door slightly, your eyes travel over the room, an overwhelming aroma of gunpowder engulfed your nose, stifling a sneeze as you walked in.

“It’s stuck to the walls I swear but we promised mum we’d do it as soon as we got back.” He shrugged his shoulders, rushing over to the window to open it, wafting the air with his hands as best he could. You laughed, watching him desperately attempt to air out the room. After a few minutes you became accustomed to the smell, taking a seat on his bed, a sweater placed on his and Fred's encrusted with their initials.

“We probably have a few hours until supper, here, lay down.” George met you around the side of the bed, folding over the quilt ushering you under it. You smiled up at him, taking off your coat and jeans, slithering your legs under the warm blanket. You could’ve swore the duvet was charmed to make you fall asleep immediately, your eyes becoming heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow. You looked up at George one more time, his frame leaning over you to tuck you in.

You leaned your head up, closing your eyes forming your lips into a comedic pout, begging for a kiss. He looked down at you, shaking his head and sucking his teeth, teasing you for a moment. He held his body over yours, waiting to see how long he could make you wait. The corners of his mouth twisted into a smirk, watching your eyes scrunch further, waiting for his lips to meet yours.

“Awe come onnnn.” You mumbled, flopping back into the bed. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to sleep, snoring lightly. George just laughed, turning your face with his hands placing several large kisses across your face, lastly on your lips. He held you, the final kiss lasting a few seconds, before laying your head back down.

”Ill be back in a little.” His hands rubbed the side of your head lovingly, only the sounds of his feet padding across the floorboards and the door latching, bringing you to a blissful silence. The familiar aroma of the blanket and pillow guiding your body into full relaxation.

You couldn't wait to wake up and start the holiday break with his family, but for now, you fell asleep in blissful peace.

#george weasley headcanon #george weasly x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley #George Weasley x you #george weasley x fem #George Weasley

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bitchinbarzal · 3 months ago

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Team Mom | C Keller

summary: you’ve become somewhat of a mom to the team.

Clayton isn’t an outwardly emotional guy. He keeps things pretty level, takes things as they come, and never makes too big a deal out of anything. But when he’s named the first captain in Utah’s history, he almost loses it.

Almost.

He holds it together in front of the cameras, in the locker room, even when his teammates shower him with congratulations. He keeps it together when he shakes the GM’s hand, when he hears his name in the announcement, when he pulls on the jersey with the “C” stitched on the front. But the second he gets home and sees you standing there with a cake that says Congratulations, Captain! in slightly smudged icing, he feels the emotions creep in.

“Did you bake that?” he asks, stepping closer, a small grin tugging at his lips.

You scoff “Absolutely not. You think I had time to make a cake between running errands for your team?”

He laughs, pulling you into a hug. You smell like vanilla, probably from the frosting you insisted on fixing yourself “Thank you” he mumbles into your hair.

“For the cake? It was the least I could do—”

“No” he cuts in, pulling back just enough to look at you. “For everything. For dealing with the guys. For being here”

You roll your eyes, but there’s warmth in them “I don’t deal with them. I like them”

That’s debatable.

The thing is, you’ve been around Clayton’s team long enough that you’ve become part of the fabric of it. And somehow, without realizing it, you’ve ended up being something of a—

“You know you’re like our team mom, right?” Logan says casually one night at dinner.

You nearly choke on your drink “Excuse me?”

“Oh, for sure” Dylan agrees “You’re always checking in on us, making sure we have food, giving us rides when needed—”

“I once drove you to practice because your car was in the shop.”

“Yeah, and you packed snacks,” Logan reminds you.

“I was already going to the grocery store!”

Clayton, for his part, is having way too much fun with this. He leans back in his chair, watching as his teammates list off all the things you do for them.

The way you remind them to bring extra layers when they travel somewhere cold, the way you make sure they eat something green at least once a week, the way you’ve somehow memorized their coffee orders and deliver them without asking.

“I also pack your lunches” you argue, looking pointedly at Clay “Am I your mom, too?”

He smirks “Nah, i think that makes you my wife”

Your face burns, and the guys lose it, laughing at your expression.

The nickname sticks.

You don’t particularly like it, but you don’t hate it either. At least, not enough to stop the guys from calling you “Mom” every time they need something.

It starts off small.

“Mom, can you sew this button back on?”

“Mom, can you look at this text and tell me what it means?”

“Mom, I forgot my headphones — do you have an extra pair?”

And then it escalates.

“Mom, I may or may not have spilled coffee on my white dress shirt, and I need it for a team event tonight”

“Mom, can you send me that soup recipe?”

“Mom, I think I have scurvy”

“Mom, I—”

“I am not your mother!” you remind them.

“You’re the team mom” they reply, like it’s a fact of life.

And the thing is? You kind of are.

Clayton never says it out loud, but he loves it. He loves the way you’ve made his team feel like a family, how you take care of them in ways he never even considered. It’s not just about the meals or the reminders—it’s the way you care. The way you sit through their rants about bad calls, the way you text them good luck before games, the way you make their wins feel bigger and their losses feel smaller.

He knows he’s the captain, but he also knows that this team wouldn’t feel the same without you.

And maybe, one day, he’ll put a ring on your finger to make it official.

For now, though, he’ll settle for knowing that when he puts on that jersey with the “C” on it, he’s not leading this team alone.

He’s got you.

#clayton keller x reader #clayton keller imagine #nhl imagine

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r0-boat · 10 months ago

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Ya know what fuck it NSFW Alphabet with Lycaon bc I just got him and I am in love

NSFW below mdi

Von Lycaon x Gn! reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

King of aftercare! Whatever you like, he will more than happily do, then he will check for any marks, and after that, he will give you words and affirmation telling you how well you did and how much he loves you. And he requires a little aftercare himself, holding you close and just having you for a while. He will always ask to keep you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands. He takes great care of them they are soft yet strong, the same hands that will delicately clean and make everything perfect and clean, these same hands that make you writhe in pleasure and he likes that you like them.

Is it cheating to say he likes every part of you? If it is then he likes your hands. He likes pressing his hand against yours because it's a clear indication that he is much bigger than you. He likes to hold your hand,kiss the back of your hand... He likes hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When he wants to cum he will always want to cum inside you. He will even beg to fill you up. He doesn't care if he has to wear a condom or wait for your birth control. He just wants to fill you up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You will never know how much dirty thoughts he actually thinks about you. You'll never know how much fists his cock with his hand when he has a moment of peace to himself.

And you'll never know that he has ruts every early spring where he needs you so bad it hurts but he takes suppressants every time so you never notice because the thought of losing control (to Lycaon who values his self-control and discipline) Makes him angry.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's done it once or twice in his youth. So he's a little inexperienced. But he is a very quick learner, and very perceptive so he will find where all the right places to touch on your body are.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy ahah. Half joking. He doesn't mind any position however he does prefer missionary because he wants to see you and have access to your body so he can touch you, hold you or kiss you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He does not mind indulging a little bit when you're the one goofing off, petting his tail or touching his ears. but he is as serious as they come. If you get too distracted, he'll be the one to pull you back to what you're supposed to be focused on...

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Extremely well-groomed, He has a whole hair care fur care and facial care routine.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romance... Now that's what he truly shines, He is as romantic as they come, he sees sex as a very intimate act. And he works hard to set the mood just right for you He wants your eyes to sparkle and light up and he wants his heart to pound hard in his chest when he takes you to the bedroom. A romantic dinner, a night out beneath the stars. This man will think of it all he'll plan different dates for different occasions for different days and holidays.

You don't even want to know what he does for Valentine's Day or anniversaries... With his connections to clients and his high pay he will take you to jaw dropping fancy places. And like the gentleman he is he'll pay for everything.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He was so busy that he hardly even thinks about it; however since he has you. He's been really struggling. His mind plagued with thoughts about you, and he could feel his pants already straining; he was afraid that you had awakened something inside of him that he thought he had outgrown. What have you done to him?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I've said it a few times before so you could already guess that He has some sort of size kink. With a creampie kink, slight breeding, pet play(with you being the pet) and master/servant.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, he will not do it anywhere else. You can try to convince him to do it at his desk.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wearing something extremely nice, like something as usual clients would wear He will try not to stare. Catching them off guard like a lingerie or discovering that you're wearing nothing underneath your clothing will also turn him on to no end.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not, under any circumstances hurt you. Whether it be biting or scratching . You are small compared to him so he fears hurting you too much. Even if you wanted he's extremely hesitant out of fear of losing control of his own strength. He will choke you lightly and he'll be rough with you but anything past that. No

He will also never ever fuck you in a bathroom, outside or in a hollow too dirty!!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers giving, of course he doesn't mind receiving but, he'd rather be on his knees tasting you, He loves to see you ride and squirm on his time and he loves the taste of you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough when he stressed, However usually it's a good pace and sensual taking his time to feel every bit of you, but fast enough to satisfy you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

At first he didn't like them, but then after teasing him so much he dragged you into his office to teach you a 'lesson.' with a hang on your mouth and his teeth digging into your shirt, he now sees the appeal of quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes when your risky, but he's not the risk taking type. Well there are exceptions.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Lots of stamina, he can last for a few rounds before he begins to tire.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, toys, Toys are that exception of risky. Since you like to be a little horny brat, then you shouldn't mind a vibrator inside you outside as he plays with the buttons

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He only teases when your bad and he has to punish you. Sometimes he teases when he wants to see you beg, But he doesn't do it often He's not cruel.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's quiet at first, Breaths and growls, he gets louder the longer he fucks you, louder when he's close to cumming, until he cums inside you with a howl.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Lycaon admits, he hesitated when he first had you underneath him; all you were, he didn't want to hurt you. Now he's addicted to the way you take him, your tiny hole stretching around him, struggling to fit.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big muscular Man, trains frequently at the gym.BIIG VEINY COCK, with a knot, he can't help but feel a little bit of pride at his big size.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

At first it was almost not existent now that it has you he could barely contain it. He tries to control himself so he's constantly in the state of yearning for your touch.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After finishing he holds you close opens a book and reads until he falls asleep, finger threading through your hair as he gently pets you.

#smut #zzzero #zzzero lycaon #von lycaon #zzz lycaon #lycaon x reader #zzzero smut #zzz #zenless zone zero #zzz lycaon x reader

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carnalcrows · 4 months ago

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I'VE BEEN A GOOD BOY OFFICER - HWANG JUN-HO

pairing: traffic police! junho x trans male reader

synopsis: "When a midnight speeding ticket turns into a lesson in creative payments, Officer Jun-ho finds himself issuing a warning he never saw coming."

content warnings: 18+, blowjobs, semi-public sex, hair pulling, face-fucking, driving over the speed limit, facial.

word count: - 1.4k

A/N: the request: link

It was a quiet night on the Seoul streets, the kind that lulls most into a false sense of security. You, however, weren’t most people. The hum of your motorcycle slicing through the silence was a thrill you couldn’t resist. That is, until the flash of red and blue lights cut through the night like a bad omen.

You groaned under your breath as you slowed to a stop. “Of course,” you muttered.

The officer approaching your bike was tall, broad-shouldered, and unfortunately for you, painfully good-looking. His uniform fit just a little too well, the crisp lines accentuating his sharp jawline and piercing eyes. He didn’t even need to say anything before you felt like you were already caught.

“License and registration,” he said in a tone that was both authoritative and tired.

You pulled off your helmet, your messy hair falling into place as you gave him your most disarming smile. “About that... I, uh, might’ve left my wallet at home.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No ID, speeding in the middle of the night, and you think a smile’s going to fix this?”

“Well,” you said, leaning on your handlebars, “it’s a pretty good smile.”

His lips twitched, but he held his composure. “That’s not how this works. What’s your name?”

“Why, Officer Jun-ho,” you teased, catching a glimpse of his name badge, “I didn’t realize we were on a first-name basis.”

He let out a deep sigh, clearly trying to maintain his patience. “Look, if you can’t pay the fine, you’ll have to come down to the station.”

“No wallet, no cash,” you said with a shrug, leaning back. “But maybe I can... offer something else?”

Jun-ho froze, his jaw tightening. “Are you serious?”

“Depends,” you replied, smirking. “Am I getting arrested, or are you going to hear me out?”

His expression was unreadable as he studied you, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, interest, or maybe exasperation.

“Follow me,” he finally said, turning on his heel and walking toward the patrol car.

“Where are we going?” you asked, trailing behind.

“Just shut up and walk,” he muttered, though his ears were turning red.

Before you knew it, he had guided you to a secluded alley nearby. Jun-ho turned to face you, his expression half-irritated, half-uncertain. “What exactly are you offering?”

You stepped closer, dropping your voice to a teasing whisper. “You really don’t know?”

His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you closed the gap between you, brushing your lips against his in a slow, deliberate kiss.

For a moment, Jun-ho was as still as a statue, his brain clearly short-circuiting. Then, as if a switch flipped, his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips moved against yours with surprising fervor, all traces of professionalism thrown out the window.

The kiss was messy, desperate, and absolutely electric. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your sides as if anchoring himself to reality. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss and earning a low, breathy sound from him that made your knees weak.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his face flushed and his uniform slightly rumpled.

“That’s one way to pay a fine,” you quipped, grinning.

Jun-ho groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I’m definitely losing my job for this.”

“Worth it, though,” you said, tapping his chest. “Right, Officer?”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Jun-ho’s chuckle died as you slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his uniform. His breathing hitched when you tugged him closer by the collar, your smirk daring him to resist. Spoiler: he didn’t.

“I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this, Officer,” you teased, your voice low and teasing against his lips.

He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on your waist. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Always,” you replied, leaning in again, and this time, the kiss was even hungrier.

Jun-ho responded instantly, his lips capturing yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips like he was trying to ground himself, while your own fingers found their way into his hair, tugging lightly and earning a muffled groan that sent a shiver down your spine.

The alley, dim and secluded, felt like it belonged to just the two of you. The world outside blurred into irrelevance as Jun-ho pressed you back against the cool brick wall, the solid surface a stark contrast to the heat between you. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers tugging his hair again. “And here I thought you were the strict, by-the-book type.”

Jun-ho pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and want. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though the way his thumb brushed against your cheek said otherwise.

“You like it,” you shot back, your smirk returning as you looped your arms around his neck.

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he kissed you again, this time slower but no less intense, as if savoring every second. His hands roamed your sides, his touch firm but careful, as if afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

The kiss deepened, and you lost track of time, the midnight air cool against your skin while Jun-ho’s warmth was all-consuming. By the time you pulled apart again, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces flushed, and his uniform slightly askew.

Jun-ho rested his forehead against yours, his lips twitching in what might have been an embarrassed smile. “This is... not how I imagined my shift going.”

“Best shift you’ve ever had, though,” you teased, your voice still breathless.

“Debatable,” he muttered, though the small, fond smile on his face betrayed him.

You pressed another kiss to his swollen lips before slowly sinking to your knees, while unbuckling his belt.

His breath grew ragged as you gently pulled out his aching length from the confinement of his boxers.

“Such a pretty dick,” you cooed, before kissing the tip and licking a stripe down the long vein from his girth to the head. He threw his head back, relishing the feeling of your tongue on his cock.

Soon, you swallow him whole, bobbing your head up and down his length, while your hand reaches up to cup his balls, filled with his load.

You other hand unbuttons you own pants, pressing a finger onto your aching clit, rubbing slow, calculative circles around it.

‘You seemed to know what you were doing,’ Jun-ho thought to himself, with a striking realization that you might’ve sucked his colleagues off too.

With the green cloud of envy (over someone he had just met) blocking his view, he gripped you hair with his hand and forced you to take him all the way until your nose breathed in the musk of his pubes.

You on the other hand were more turned on, as your hands had sunk into your tight folds, pumping in an out with a fervour.

Soon, Jun-ho felt himself going to climax, so he pulled out, but kept your head firmly in place by your hair. Spurts of white soon released from his cock, right onto your face. You took it all, mouth wide open and tongue sticking out; all while looking at him right in the eyes.

His grip on your hair relaxed, so you slowly got up, knees shaking.

You straightened his slightly rumpled collar, your hands lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Guess I should speed through your part of town more often.”

Jun-ho gave you a warning look, though his flushed cheeks and the way his gaze lingered on your lips made it far less threatening. “You do, and I’ll write you up for real next time.”

“Sure you will,” you said with a wink, stepping back toward your bike.

As you swung a leg over, you caught the way his eyes followed your every move, and you couldn’t resist blowing him a cheeky kiss.

“See you around, Officer,” you called before revving the engine.

Jun-ho stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath before turning back toward his patrol car.

You sped off into the night with a grin plastered on your face. Maybe breaking the rules wasn’t so bad after all.

Meanwhile, a crackle of Jun-ho’s walkie talkie caught his attention.

“Sir, you do remember that the first button of your shirt has a camera installed, right?”

Oh.

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kamiversee · 1 year ago

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 44 || The Question at the End

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, heartwarmingly filthy smut (includes choking), fluff, & a ticklish tinge of angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU WEREN’T PREPARED FOR the man that is Nanami Kento. Nope, nothing could mentally ready you for the way he eases his cock into you for what felt like hours on end, making you lose all sense of thought as he forces you to feel each and every inch and vein that decorates his member.

You don’t remember anything from when he was finger fucking you in his vehicle to now as your legs are pressed up against your chest with Nanami’s hands roughly squeezing onto the plush underside of your thighs while he stuffs you full of his girthy length.

“Fuuuck,” Nanami groaned, his hair disheveled and his eyes lustful and low-lidded as he gazed down at the flushed fucked out expression on your face. “You’re-, shit… you’re milking my cock, darling… hah, squeezing me so damn tight,”

Through the course of the list, you’ve experienced all kinds of sex but nothing quite like this. When Nanami said he fucks rough he wasn’t referring to his pace, instead, he was referring to the filth that leaves his lips and the stretch of his dick squeezing into you. It’s more of a buildup to that roughness he was referring to and you liked every second of that.

He’s a confident man, he knows how women react to his size. And as for you? Oh you felt like a virgin trying to take him in at first. Thank god for the car ride that consisted of him fingering you because you quickly realized how necessary that was.

Not only was that helpful but Nanami’s sexy voice was in your ear as he eased himself into you. He spoke so softly, so kindly, his tone laced in honey with how sweet it was as each word went straight to your core and only made his entry more slippery.

He hadn’t tied you up just yet, he’d revisit that idea later.

As he initially entered you, those soft lips of his were against your ear, saying things like, “Shhh, I know it’s big but you can take it, right?”

To which your nails would scrape against his back and your jaw would fall, leaving your mouth open with obscene moans leaving you, “I c-can’t-, f-fuuuck… ohmygod…” You whined and whined, to which he only went slower.

You’re not sure if it helped for him to go slower or if you just wanted him to thrust the rest in but either way, you were struggling.

“C’mon, that’s it, I’m almost-,” He grunts heavily, his warm breath hitting your skin, “A-Almost all the way in. You’re doing so good f’me, such a good girl aren’t you?”

You nodded weakly. He was halfway in but you couldn’t really tell. Your legs wrapped around his large muscular body and god he was a big man. His build was so damn perfect over you and his gentleness just made you melt beneath him.

“Uh-huh…” You babbled out to the man.

Nanami shifted down to the area right below your jaw and kissed you passionately before whispering to you, “You’re taking me so well, love.”

Yep, your walls suddenly clamp around his cock and Nanami lets out a moan against you.

“Kento,” You squeaked out, a whimper following his name as each inch of him was buried inside you, “You’re s’deep,” You slurred out.

Nanami nods, “Mhmm, I know… Here,” He moves a hand to grab your arm and you feel his fingers slip along your palm before they interlace with your own, squeezing your delicate hand in his own, “Hold on to me, I’ll make sure you feel good soon, okay?”

The sex was so soft and light that it had you utterly flustered. You didn’t even know what to do with yourself in a situation like this. Nanami moved so that his face was over your own and his eyes gazed so deeply into yours while he held your hand to comfort you through his hefty size.

His hips begin to draw back and you hiss when he then presses himself down into you again, the tip of his cock simply mushing into that tear-jerking spot inside you. Your delicate fingers squeeze onto his hand for dear life as Nanami works up a steady and simple pace. You were breathing so heavily and your eyes were hardly open.

Your jaw remained slack as soft moans poured from your moist lips, “M-Mmmgh… Kento,” You called, voice breathy.

The man tilts his head at you, his brows furrowed as he tries not to lose himself in the way your cunt just sucks him right back in each time he draws himself out, “Hm?” He inches his face to yours, “What is it, pretty? Talk to me.” He requested, and damn the way his voice was just as breathy as yours.

The whole situation was so hot, heavy, and intimate, far more intimate than you were expecting it to be. Your eyes dipped down to his lips and you felt his hands move your thighs farther apart before his chest pressed against yours.

“K-Kiss me,” You breathed.

Nanami chuckles, just barely, “Is that how you ask?” He groaned out slightly, his cock stretching you open as he voices his words to you.

You bite your lower lip for a moment to stifle the next whine that threatened to escape before turning your head to the side and uttering a desperate, “Please?”

The man moved his lips to your cheek, then slid over to your ear, “Look at me first,” He instructed.

Just before you get the chance to do so, his hand suddenly weighs into yours and you feel your fingers dip into the mattress a bit as Nanami holds himself up using your clasped hands. Then, his free hand comes up to your face, specifically your chin, and forces your head to turn to him.

Pleasureful tears are welling up in your eyes and you feel so embarrassed as you look at him. Nanami gives you this comforting small smile and your heart flutters like crazy.

“Please kiss me,” You say softly.

Nanami inclines himself down to you just a bit more, his warm lips brushing over your own, “Beg some more f’me,” He grunts, and you feel his dick sliding out of you a bit more than before, and he thrusts right back in moments later.

That was when things started to shift. “Please?” You’re so quick to follow his words, almost without a second thought.

He frowns to mock you, “So cute. Say it again.”

“P-Please?” You moaned this time, feeling his thick inches knock into you a bit harder than before, making you choke on air for a moment.

Then, your cunt simply floods around his cock when Nanami pushes his lips to yours, groaning out a very low and very sexy, “Good girl.”

Your lashes fluttered as your eyes closed and the kiss with Nanami was slow and firm, wet and plump lips slipping over one another before your tongues connected sloppily as his pace picked up.

You got so unintentionally loud, moaning against Nanami with little to no control over the sounds escaping your lips. His name left you like a damn mantra with the way he begins to, slowly, yet roughly drive his girthy cock into your squelching cunt.

Sounds of sex filled the air, loud as it always was, yet your moaning was slightly downed out by Nanami’s deep and guttural groans. That, along with the lewd sounds of your pussy just slobbering around his shaft.

Nanami’s lips pried from yours at some point and your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his dick simply clobbered into your gummy walls, the wet slap of his thick base to your cunt echoing throughout the room.

“You’re one perverted girl, y’know that?” Nanami suddenly pointed out as he pushed himself up a bit. His hand releases yours and the man sits back on his heels, placing those large hands of his to your upper thighs and then giving your body a tug.

A pornographic moan is ripped from your throat as his cock is felt impossibly deeper inside you. The slight change in positioning made Nanami penetrate so much further inside you, your pussy squeezing around the man ridiculously tight as he ups his thrusts.

Your entire body twitches when his thumb is felt at your clit, rolling such slow but painfully pleasurable circles around the sensitive but.

“M-My god-,” You gasp, your back arching off the bed, “M’gonna cum, s-shit… K-Kento-,”

“Mhm,” Nanami hums, biting his lip for a moment at the sight of your breasts jerking forward with his each thrust, “I knoww,” He coos, “Cum on my cock, lemme’ feel it, darling.”

The harsh smack of his pelvis to yours as he fucked his length into you filled your ears. You couldn’t think for a moment, couldn’t see, drool was dripping down out of the corner of your mouth, and his name rolled off your tongue more times than could be counted as your orgasm crashed over you.

Your legs tried to close around him but his free hand prevented that action as it was placed on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him. Instinctively, your hand reaches down to where his thumb was driving you over the edge and you try stopping the touch, overstimulation clouding your mind.

“C’monn, don’t push me away, pretty girl,” Nanami hushes out.

His voice made the entire thing so much worse. And he knew it too, he could feel how your cunt twitches and clamps around his already slick member, knowing his tone and words made you wetter than you were.

Your hands continue to try and move his hands away from your clit, wanting just a second to try and collect yourself. That was when Nanami decided now was a good time to revisit his thoughts from earlier.

There was a previously disregarded tie lying idly on his bed not too far from the two of you. One hand remains on your clit, driving you absolutely insane as his other hand reached for the tie.

You didn’t even realize what was happening until the pressure from your clit was suddenly lifted and your hands were brought together. You let out a filthy cry of pleasure as Nanami leans his muscular body over yours, pinning your hands up and above your head.

He shakes his head at your expression and his hips just don’t stop pounding his hefty cock into you, the bed beginning to rock with his each thrust. “Kinky woman you are.” He comments, “You probably wanted this to happen, huh? S’that why you were being so disobedient?”

A slight smile pulls at the corner of your lips, the sight not going unnoticed even through your fucked out expression. “M-Maybe, ah, fuuck…” You moaned out, “B-But, haah… y-you’re the one who-, m-mmmh… wanted t-to tie me up, aagnh-, a-anyways…” You get out, your words slurred and broken due to his heavy balls slapping against your skin as he bottomed you out.

You felt a fabric wrapping around your wrists, the feeling of being restricted completely foreign to you.

Nanami scoffs and his ability to fuck you and tie your hands up at the same time genuinely amuses you. “Oh? Someone’s quite talkative now,” He teases, clearly mocking how just a few minutes ago the most you could get out was his name.

You bite your lip hard for a second, trying to keep a whimper in whilst Nanami’s hand squeezes around your tied wrists, pinning you down to the bed while he begins rolling his hips down into yours, again making you really feel his every inch and vein.

“Ha-ahh… fuck, s-shut up,” You babble out.

Nanami cocks a brow at you, “I’d love to see you try and make me.” He tests, leaning down so that his lips ghost your own, “Shut me up, go on-,”

His words cut off suddenly as you purposefully close your walls around him, using what little strength you have in you to do so. The man moans at the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock so suddenly, completely eating his words to you.

You flash a lustful smile at him, “Mgh… You were saying?” Your words are still breathy but even so, your confidence turned the man on like crazy.

Nanami bites his bottom lip and then scoffs, “Do that again ‘nd see what happens,” He challenges.

And who were you to not accept said challenge? Again, you clench around Nanami’s dick but this time, you’re all too quickly put in your place.

He lets go of your pinned hands, pulling the tie from you as he leans up and tosses his head back with an almost annoyed groan. “I had no plans on actually fucking you like a slut but,” He rolls his head back into place and meets your eyes for only a moment, “Seems’ like a brat like you needs to be put in her place.”

The tie that’d been around your wrist is brought up to the man’s mouth as he holds it there while moving. Your body is rapidly manhandled and Nanami pulls out of you for just a moment to flip you over. He then lifts your hips and forces your back into an arch.

After which, you moan loudly into the mattress as he thrusts his cock back into you. Then, your wrists are taken into his hold again, quickly crossed over one another behind your back, and then tied together.

And if that wasn’t enough, once your hands are firmly tied together, Nanami reaches over for something you don’t see. You don’t get a chance to mentally process the way he takes his belt and moves it to loop around your neck, using that to tug your head up from the mattress as his hips beat into your ass.

Your eyes widened, air and your voice left your throat completely, and you felt so stupidly cockdrunk in what felt like seconds. Your hands were tied behind your back, and the upper half of your body was forced up by a belt that wasn’t pulling you too tight but tight enough for you to have zero control.

“K-Kento, f-fu-uck… p-please-,” You whimpered as you felt his massive tip just pound into your sweet spot, making your eyes cross in lust.

Nanami scoffs and tugs you back enough so that he can speak into your ear, “Please what?” He grunts, “I thought you wanted me to shut up?”

His voice is so damn low now, almost lower than before? It’s husked in arousal and you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

“M’sorry,” You whine, “Ohfuck, f-fuck… Kento, mmmh… m’cumming, s-shit-,” It came so unexpectedly, your release coating his member in a messy slick as he fucked you from behind.

He chuckled suddenly and your eyes rolled back when he suddenly moved his free hand to shove two fingers into your mouth, “Give it to me, love,” He whispered so sweetly despite his hips crashing into yours so angrily.

Your jaw just fell and his fingers dove deeper into your mouth, drool and spit leaking out your mouth as you moaned and groaned around his thick digits. Your entire body spasmed and twitched as instead of just experiencing an orgasm, a different, but familiar, sensation takes over and you squirt unexpectedly.

Nanami groaned deeply against your ear, “Fuuuuck… You-, mgh… hah, messed’ up my sheets, pretty girl,” He points out, as if the fabric wasn’t long since soiled since he brought you into the bedroom.

You couldn’t respond to him. Your legs were shaking, an airy whine was leaving your lips, your throat trembled as the sound left you, and your eyes squeezed shut. Nanami let up on you after that.

His fingers leave your mouth, you choke out a staggered exhale, and his hand releases the belt, allowing your body to go forward and limp in front of him. His hands then find comfort on your hips and his thrusting slows only a bit to give you a moment's rest.

You’re moaning weakly into the sheets and your tied hands are trying to reach back and feel the man. Nanami, feeling pity for you, grabs ahold of one of your hands as he continues to stroke your insides juust right.

“Did’ so good for me, darling.” He praises, “So fuckin’ good.” His words left him in pants and you could tell you weren’t the only one feeling drained.

You found the strange sense of comfort wash over your body whilst he slowed his thrusts but kept holding your hand. While his thrusts grew slower, they also grew harder. Slow and harsh jerks of his hips into your ass just made you so dumb, his well-defined pelvis felt clashing into your ass over and over and over.

His stamina was top-notch, something you could hardly keep up with anymore.

“K-Kento… mmmh… s-so-, oh… s’deep…” You mumbled into the bed, missing the way he smiles softly at your fucked out state.

Nanami shrugs a bit, “Could’ go deeper if you want.”

You shook your head no amusingly fast. “N-No, you’re… aah… you’re de-eep enough…” Your words were coming out in broken moans and a tear slipped out of your eye as you simply took what he gave you.

The man chuckled, “Uhuh, I bet I am…” He mocked.

You wish you would have argued with that but your brain was too fuzzy with lust, arousal, and satisfaction that you couldn’t think straight.

Nanami took his other hand that wasn’t holding yours and placed it on your ass, spreading you apart slightly so he could get a good look at the mess you’ve made of his cock. The sight was like no other, it made his breath hitch.

“Shit,” Nanami cursed, “Such a messy girl…” He points out, then tosses his head back as he feels you pulse around his shaft. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep-“

You move slowly, with the last of your energy to force your hips back to meet his heavy thrusts. Then, you turn your head and meet Nanami’s gaze.

Good lord that man was sexy. He was sweaty, his eyes were so low and clouded in this dazed stupor, lips parted with pants leaving him, and his abs were so clearly tensed.

His thrusting slowed and slowed until he came to a half-stop, watching the way you fucked yourself back on him. Nanami lets out a grunt, then a groan, like a really deep pussy-throbbing groan that let you know he was close. That, and you felt him grasp onto your hand tighter, his mouth shutting as he grits his teeth and furrowed his brows.

Even fucked out, if there’s one thing you still knew how to do, it was how to have lazy sex (Choso was to thank that for that). You rolled your hips as you continued your movements, feeling his cock glide in and out of you so smoothly.

Nanami lets out a moan and then suddenly grabs onto your hips, quickly pushing you so that his member slipped out of you before allowing himself to cum on your ass.

Somewhere deep deep down inside, you wished he came inside you but, you knew you needed to start being more careful. You’ve had sex with too many men to simply let the majority of them cum inside you. In the chance that you were to get pregnant, you wouldn’t want to have to go through the stress of figuring out whose it is.

That thought aside, Nanami was quick to untie your wrists and then lean his body over yours. You pushed yourself up just barely using your elbows so that your faces could meet and it seemed like you both had the same thing in mind, moving to share a sweet and sensual kiss.

You felt as the bed dipped a bit on your left side, Nanami’s right hand going to caress your obviously tired body as he kissed you.

When he pulls away, his eyes are gentle on yours, “You did so good for me,” He whispers.

Those words make you smile sleepily, “Did I?” You murmur back to the man.

He nods, “Mhm,” He then gives you another peck, “Now that that’s done,” Nanami shifts to kiss your forehead and then leans away from you, “Let me clean you up.”

In no world would you have been allowed to protest against that as Nanami was quick to move to act on his words.

In terms of aftercare, you think you’ve experienced the best of the best but… Nanami is just…

Well, you’re not sure any of the men you’ve dealt with have not only given you a bath but also massaged your feet as if they were a damn professional. Then, if that wasn’t enough, Nanami didn’t even allow you to lift a finger for the remainder of the night.

He asked if you wanted to stay or if you wanted him to take you home and after you settled on the first option, Nanami not only insisted that you sleep in his bed but also made sure you were completely taken care of.

Before allowing you to drift off to sleep, he offered you tea, meds, and even food-- all of which you sleepily denied, telling him you’d be fine until the morning. He then insisted that you take at least one of the offered items, to which you settled on the tea.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Nanami was such a caring man. Perhaps in another life…

No, you’ve got enough drama on your own. You don’t need to add a third man to that list-

Speaking of lists…

That’s…

That’s it.

It’s over. The list of people Gojo Satoru blackmailed you into seducing to clear his debt is complete.

As this information renders to you, you are now sitting up in Nanami’s large bed, the man sitting not too far from you flicking through channels on the big flatscreen TV as you sipped on the tea he’d given you.

After today… You could just run to Choso.

Or…

Or Gojo.

You blink at your own thoughts.

Or Gojo? What the hell? Since when was he an option? Despite you being conflicted, thinking about running to either of them to live some kind of happily ever after makes your heart feel all fluttery.

You sit back a bit, resting against the pillows behind you and you drink more of the given tea. Then, a sudden thought sparks.

“Kento,” You call, your voice as delicate as ever.

He finds some channel and when you look over to him, you notice he’s wearing reading glasses. He really is stupidly attractive without trying.

Nanami turns to you, “Yes? Everything okay?”

You grin, “Mhm, everything’s fine. I just uhm…” You swallow, “Can I ask you something.”

His eyes spark in curiosity, “Of course.”

You glance away from him, “Uh, you know who Gojo is, right?” Why did your question come out so dumb? You don’t know, you’re tired and you wanted to see if you could get even the slightest answer about that debt of his.

Nanami quirks a brow, “Gojo, as in, Gojo Satoru? Gojo the walking headache Satoru?” He grumbles.

You giggle, “Yeah, him.”

“Yes, I know him, why?” The blond asks.

You let out a sigh. There’s no reason you can’t ask Nanami about the debt right? With that thought, you look at him, “Does he owe you anything?” You ask vaguely.

Obviously, you know the answer to that since Gojo said he’s in debt-

“Owe me anything?” Nanami echoes in a confused manner, “Like what?”

Think, think, think, think-, “I mean like, does he owe you any favors?” You manage out.

“Why?” The blond deflects.

It was odd he didn’t answer the question just yet. Was he hiding something or was he truly confused?

“W-Well, Satoru owes me something so I was curious if he uh, owed things to a lot of people,” Yep, that came straight out of your ass.

You’ve gotten way too good at lying. Choso might not like that-

“No,” Nanami says.

Silence followed his answer.

No? Your brows furrowed and you chuckled, “No? No, what?” You murmured, acting as though you were questioning.

“You asked if he owed me anything, right?” Nanami shrugs, “The answer is no, Gojo doesn’t owe me anything. But I’m not surprised someone like him owes you something,” He jokes.

You just blink.

Did you hear all that correctly?

What…

What the hell does that mean??

If Gojo doesn’t owe Nanami anything, why the fuck did you just sleep with him? Well, it’s not like you regret it or anything, the sex was great but…

What the fuck is going on??

Nanami suddenly snaps his fingers, “You alright?”

You blink out of your thoughts, “Y-Yeah. So wait,” You return to your questions, “Satoru’s not in debt with you or anything?” You ask, receiving a confused stare from Nanami. To make yourself not seem weird, you quickly add on, “L-Like he is with me?”

Nanami laughs a bit, “I’m afraid not. I wouldn’t even allow Gojo to owe me anything, he’d never pay it back knowing him. Even so, is everything okay with you and him? Do you need help getting him to pay the debt he owes you-“

“N-No,” You unintentionally cut off, “Sorry, thanks for offering to help but uhm,” You turn your head to face forward, losing yourself in deep thought, “I’m fine. I’ll uh, figure things out with him myself.”

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment and then he brushes the topic off, turning back to the TV.

You, on the other hand, have never been this damn confused in your life. Why… Why would Gojo make you sleep with Nanami if he doesn’t owe him anything?

What if… What if Gojo really is just an asshole after all? What if you just forgot who the hell that man was?

You must have.

Yeah, you forgot. This is the same man who’s threatened you numerous times. You’ve been blinded. You forgot why Gojo really said he was doing this to you.

Forget the debt of his.

Forget those stupid and bullshit lies of him claiming to love you.

Fuck his stupid ass tears and confessions.

Screw this damn diamond necklace that still lay around your neck at this very moment.

Fuck Gojo Satoru.

That’s the same man who said from the very beginning…

He only started the list, because he was bored. How’d you forget? To him, it was all just a fucking game, remember?

‘And what better entertainment than watching Shoko's roomie get slut-shamed by the whole school?’ You forgot about that.

Your heart caves in your chest and you feel this twisted and burning feeling well up inside you. Before you settle on hating Gojo again, you want clear and direct answers.

R-Right?

Shit. You can’t stop the flashing and haunted memories of his sobbing. Why would he cry like that if this was all just a game to him? Does he just regret it that bad? Did he want you to feel sorry for him?

Shit. You hate this. You want to cry and scream at the same time.

Replaying his soft words makes your heart ache. No matter what happens, even through death, my heart will always beat for you.

But then, replaying his other words brings anger to your veins. I want the whole school to see what a fucking slut you are.

So…

Which statement is the real Gojo? Which words poured from his lips hold the truth?

Does he actually love you or… have you just been a pawn in his fucked up little game all this time? A piece to his twisted puzzle? Or, the missing fragment to his fractured heart?

What is it that you symbolize in the eyes of Gojo Satoru?

Now that the list is over, you’re left with two final options.

A. Demand Gojo to explain himself even though the chances of that being successful are slim to none.

Or;

B. Forget Gojo, free your mind, & run to the man who’s freakishly devoted to you; Choso Kamo.

The choice was yours.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

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nelle-y · 2 months ago

Note

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE GONNA DO A WRRIOTHESLEY ONE AFTER THE ALHAITHAM VOICELINES FIC IS COMPLETED!!!! I NEED IT PLEASE!!

A love story told trough voicelines (Wriothesley ver.) I

C/W: wriothesley x gn!reader, sun x moon, protective!wrio, himbo/bimbo!reader, fluff, slow-burn, not proofread

Note: okay, the Alhaitham fic isn’t really done yet, but I seriously couldn’t think of any good stuff to add there soooo here’s a Wrio version while waiting^^ (comments are very much appreciated!)

Part 2

—

(You) About Laws

I’m not even a Fontaine citizen! How was I supposed to know it was illegal to eat a pack of ketchup?! Are laws here even applicable for tourists? …Wait that was a dumb question. Anyway—I have to serve two months in the Fortress, now. Honestly, that long for ketchup?

Really?

(Wriothesley) About you

They’re a funny one, I’ll admit. When I saw their file, I thought someone was pulling a prank on me. Two months for… eating ketchup? But rules are rules. I have a feeling they’re going to make things a little more interesting around here.

(You) About jail food

Sooo… any chance I could get some ketchup with this? No? Right, okay. Thought I’d ask.

(Wriothesley) About your stay

They’re surprisingly good at making friends. The guards like them, the prisoners like them, even Sigewinne seems to have taken a liking to them. I should be concerned, but honestly? It’s kind of impressive.

(You) About Wriothesley

Did you know the Duke of Meropide has a soft spot for tea? I mean, I guess it’s obvious, but I caught him sneaking an extra cup the other day. “Oh, it helps me think,” he says. Yeah, yeah, whatever, tea boy.

(Wriothesley) About you: Nicknames

‘Tea boy’? They’re the one who came in here because of ketchup. If anything, I should be the one coming up with a nickname. Like… tomato. Ugh, I don’t have time for this—I have work to do.

(You) About Wriothesley: A few weeks in

Okay, so maybe the Duke isn’t as scary as I thought. Sure, he’s got the whole “I could probably knock someone out with one punch” thing going on, but he’s actually pretty nice. In a “grumbles but still helps” kind of way. Like, I asked for an extra pillow as a joke, and he actually got me one? Hello??

(Wriothesley) About You: A few weeks in

They’ve settled in way too well. Most prisoners would usually be miserable as they count their days left, but they? They’re treating this place like a weird vacation. They joke around, chat with everyone, even try to make me laugh— *chuckles* not that it works. …Okay, maybe once or twice.

(You) About Wriothesley: Casual encounters

I keep running into His Grace at the most random times. Like, I’ll be minding my business, trying to stack crackers into the tallest tower possible, and boom, there he is, watching me like I’m some kind of strange wildlife documentary. And then he just walks away without a word! Geez, Tea boy, at least say, “Wow, impressive architecture,” or something!

(Wriothesley) About You: Casual encounters

I caught them trying to balance a spoon on their nose in the cafeteria. I don’t know why I expected anything different. When they saw me watching, they just grinned and said, “Impressive, right?” I should’ve walked away, but instead, I sat down and watched. I think I’m losing it.

(You) About Wriothesley: Serious moments

You ever meet someone who acts all tough, but then you realize they care more than they let on? That’s him. He won’t say it outright, but it’s in the little things. Like how he notices when I’m quieter than usual. Or how he subtly checks if I’ve eaten. He’d probably deny it if I brought it up, though. Typical.

(Wriothesley) About You: Serious moments

They’re more than just jokes and sunshine, you know. The other night, they found me in my office, still working late. I expected them to tease me, but instead, they just sat down and said, “You should rest too, you know.” No jokes. No dramatic antics. Just… genuine concern. I didn’t know what to say.

(You) About making friends (or not)

Most people here are pretty cool! I mean, sure, some of them look like they could snap me in half, but they’re nice once you talk to them. …Okay, maybe not everyone. There’s a group that gives me the stink eye whenever I talk to the Duke. I think they think I’m his little sidekick or something. Imagine me being intimidating. Hah!

(Wriothesley) About prison politics

Not everyone is happy with how things work down here, and that includes how I run things. So when someone comes in and gets along with me too well, it’s bound to rub some people the wrong way. I’m not worried about them, but… I am keeping an eye on things.

(You) Character story: A not-so-friendly encounter

The underground fortress had its own rules—ones that weren’t always written in Fontaine’s legal codes. It was an unspoken truth that power moved differently down here. The way people looked at others, the way they spoke, even the way they stood in the cafeteria—it all meant something.

And apparently, the way they joked around with the Duke meant something too.

“You think you’re special, huh?”

The voice wasn’t friendly. Not the usual kind of gruff they’d hear from someone just messing around. No, this was different. It came with the sharp press of a shoulder against theirs, backing them into the stone wall of a dim corridor. They hadn’t meant to take this route alone—it just happened. Bad timing, bad luck.

They held up your hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, hey, if this is about the crackers I stole from the cafeteria, I promise it was for scientific—”

A hand slammed the wall beside their head, cutting them off. “Quit playing around,” the guy sneered. “You think being His Grace’s favorite means you can do whatever you want?”

Favorite? They blinked. What kind of wild rumors were people spreading?

“I don’t—”

Another guy stepped closer, arms crossed. “You talk too much.”

Okay. Yeah. This wasn’t looking great.

They considered their options. Fighting wasn’t exactly their strong suit—sure, they could throw a decent punch, but against multiple guys built like reinforced walls? Not ideal. Running wasn’t an option either; they had them boxed in. Which left them with… talking their way out.

“Look,” they started, voice light, “I get it. You guys are the big, scary veterans of the Fortress, and I’m just some random ketchup criminal. But I promise, I’m not plotting some evil scheme with the Duke. I’m here for the vibes, man.”

One of them scoffed. “Real funny.”

They grinned. “Thanks. I try.”

A fist clenched. For a second, they thought the guy was actually going to hit them. They braced themselves—

And then he spoke.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The air in the corridor changed. The weight of the room shifted, a presence settling over the space like a cold snap.

The group turned, and there he was.

Wriothesley stood at the mouth of the corridor, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. But his eyes—his eyes—were sharp, colder than they’d ever seen.

The guy closest to them took half a step back. Just half. “We were just having a conversation,” he said, trying to sound casual.

The Duke’s gaze flicked to them. He didn’t say anything, but the question was clear. Are you hurt?

They shook their head. “Nope. All good. Just a friendly little chat about… social dynamics.”

A beat of silence. Then, Wriothesley let out a breath—something almost like a laugh, but not quite.

“You’ve made your point,” he said coolly, stepping closer. “So now I’ll make mine.”

The air got heavier. The authority in his voice left no room for argument.

“I don’t care what rumors you’ve heard,” he continued. “But if you think causing problems in my fortress is a good idea, then by all means—go ahead. Give me an excuse to personally escort you to solitary confinement.”

No one moved. No one spoke.

Then, just like that, the tension cracked. The group muttered something under their breaths and backed off, melting into the corridors like shadows.

They let out a breath they didn’t realize they held. “Wow. That was dramatic.”

Wriothesley gave them a look. “You should’ve told me.”

They shrugged. “I had it under control.”

His brow arched. He glanced at the wall they’d been backed against, then back at them.

“…Mostly under control.”

A pause. Then, with a shake of his head, he sighed. “You’re impossible.”

They grinned. “So I’ve been told.”

Wriothesley didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, just before turning to leave, he muttered—so quietly they almost missed it—

“Stay close next time.”

(Wriothesley) About you: Keeping an eye out

They say they’re fine, that it’s “not a big deal,” but I know how things work down here. Resentment brews fast. I told them to let me know if anyone gives them trouble. They laughed and said, “What, are you gonna throw them in jail? Oh, wait—” *sigh* They’re ridiculous. Honestly, I’m curious about what they’re gonna do once they’re out in the overworld.

(You) About time

You’d think I’d be marking off the days on my wall like some dramatic prisoner in a movie, right? At first, I kinda did—two months felt like forever. But now? I looked at the calendar this morning and realized I only have a few days left.

…And instead of being excited, I just stood there, staring at it like it personally offended me. Hm.

(Wriothesley) About time

Most inmates count down the days until they’re free. Some scratch it into their cell walls, some mark it on a calendar—always waiting, always watching the clock. I thought they were the same. But lately, they’ve been looking at the days left like they don’t know what to do with them.

…And if I’m being honest, I don’t know what to do with them either.

(You) About goodbyes

So, uh… last night in the Fortress. Crazy, huh? Feels like just yesterday I was getting sentenced for my heinous ketchup crimes. Time flies when you’re… illegally detained, I guess.

…Hey, weird question. You ever get so used to something that it’s just… there, and then when it’s gone, you don’t know what to do with yourself? Like, I dunno, a leaky faucet or a creaky floorboard—annoying at first, but then it’s kinda comforting? Familiar?

…Never mind. Forget I said anything.

(Wriothesley) About goodbyes

I knew this was coming, but… it’s different now that it’s actually here.

They were just supposed to be another name on a file. Someone who’d serve their time and leave, like all the rest. But now? The idea of this place without them feels… odd.

Last night, they said something about getting used to things—to noises, habits, people. I didn’t say anything then, but I knew exactly what they meant.

Because now, when I sit down for tea, I’ll catch myself waiting for some ridiculous comment that won’t come. And when I walk through the halls, I’ll expect them to be there, up to some new nonsense.

…Hah. They really are impossible.

—

(You) About freedom

I thought I’d be excited to leave. Two months ago, I was counting down the days. But now that I’m out, everything just feels… off. Food tastes bland. The city is too quiet. My chest feels weird—like I forgot something important, but I don’t know what. Maybe I’m just not used to soft beds again? Or maybe I caught a weird underground sickness. …Yeah, that’s probably it.

(Wriothesley) About your absence

It’s quieter without them. Not peaceful, just… quiet. No one is pestering me about my tea habits, no one is trying to balance silverware on their face at lunch, and no one is calling me ridiculous nicknames. It should be a relief, right? That’s what I keep telling myself.

(You) About adjusting

I keep waking up expecting to hear guards talking outside. Instead, it’s just… silence. I must’ve gotten too used to the noise. Or maybe my sleep schedule is messed up. Or maybe—oh no. Is this withdrawal? Am I actually addicted to prison?!

(Wriothesley) About moving on

They’re out. They should be living their life, enjoying their freedom. And I should be focusing on my work. But every now and then, I’ll look at the cafeteria and half-expect them to be there, making some ridiculous comment about prison food. It’s a strange thing, getting used to someone’s presence—only to realize, too late, how much you actually miss it.

(You) About dumb ideas

Okay, so, hypothetically, if someone accidentally committed the same crime twice—purely by coincidence, obviously—would that be, like, really bad? Like, a longer sentence, perchance? …No reason. Just curious.

—

(Wriothesley) Character story: Sun

It was a slow day at the fortress, colder than usual, dimmer than what the Duke was used to. Since their release, he spent his time signing away some papers—names and files that came in a blur, none of them particularly interesting. The days felt longer, the usual routine dragging on without the usual interruptions.

Sigewinne checked in from time to time, making sure he was eating well and getting enough rest. And as much as he appreciated it, it just felt… different when it came from them. They had a way of making even the dullest moments feel lighter, like slipping bits of warmth into a place that wasn’t supposed to have any. He never realized how much he’d gotten used to it until it was gone.

He exhaled, shaking his head. Get a grip.

The door creaked as a guard stepped in, handing him the next batch of intake files. He took them without much thought, flipping through page after page of familiar offenses—smuggling, theft, fraud. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth a second glance.

And then he saw their name.

His movements stilled. At first, he thought he mixed up their old papers with the recent ones, but no—this was a fresh intake. The details stared back at him, just as ridiculous as the first time. He read the reason for their second sentence, and—

“Again?”

A laugh rumbled from his chest, caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as a grin tugged at his lips.

“Are you obsessed with ketchup or what?”

Before he could think too much about it, a knock echoed through his office.

“Come in,” he called.

The door cracked open just enough for him to catch a glimpse of familiar, mischievous eyes peeking through.

He sighed, shaking his head, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, curling into a smirk.

“Welcome back, sunshine.”

—

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #sun x moon

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miraclewoozi · 1 year ago

Text

SPECTACLE. -j.ww

in which your new boyfriend, wonwoo, doesn't give a crap about his expensive eyewear.

pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader. content : smut. pwp. tags under the cut. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. w/c : 2.7k. notes : yeah i kinda. went insane over this idea. so. bon appetite to you, and also to wonwoo ? i guess.

content + smut tags : established - but new - relationship. making out. FACE SITTING. impact play? (one gentle butt slap). the shenanigans are on a couch if that matters, i don't know. reader is a little shy about doing it. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything.

Wonwoo looks flushed when he pulls away from where he’s been kissing and nipping at the side of your neck, hair stuck up in every direction thanks to your tugging fingers and your gentle guidance to help him find your sweet spots. His lips are pink and a little plumped. His glasses are steaming up, sitting halfway down the bridge of his nose, and every slightly heavier breath he takes makes his broad chest rise and fall where it’s pressed wholly against yours.

You can’t help yourself from leaning forward into another kiss; he’s completely irresistible. Maybe the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. And while this isn’t really news to you, the dynamic of your relationship with him shifted a month or so ago and you’re still getting used to the privilege of seeing him this close up.

He’s still adjusting too, if the way he groans directly into your mouth, hands groping harder at the curve of your ass as you shuffle in his lap is anything to judge by. Still learning, still figuring you out. But – and this is how you know what you’re building here might be the real deal – even when it’s clumsy, and when you knock teeth while you’re kissing and burst into slightly pained giggles, or when things accidentally slip out of place while you’re getting steamy… everything Wonwoo does makes your spine tingle. Makes your stomach flip. Makes your core throb.

Even when it doesn’t always work? It makes sense, and it’s perfect, and losing yourself in the way his lips caress and worship yours is so damn easy when he murmurs your praises just for letting him do this in the first place.

“Will you do something for me?” He asks after a small forever, pulling back just far enough that he's not breathing up your nose. His hands have made their way under your – his – hoodie now and he’s grazing his fingers over your ribs, tickling enough to make you whimper, not enough for you to want to swat him away.

You think you’d give him the world if he asked for it in that deep, rough voice he adopts when things start heading in this direction. The moon too. Shit, if you could get a lasso around the sun and bring it closer to keep him warm, you’d do that as well. So, whatever his little request is now, you know you’re going to agree; resting your hands on his shoulders (finally leaving his gorgeous hair alone), you lean back from him and nod your head.

“Anything,” you say. You’re certain that you feel his cock twitch in his sweatpants where it’s pressed against the inside of your thigh, but you’re not quite sure why.

It makes you feel hot, though. More-so when he bites back a grin, lips curling in that adorable way. It feels greatly unfair that you can’t swoop down right this second to kiss him again, and again, and again; as painful as it is though, you do exercise enough grace to wait for him to come out with it.

“Get up,” he says softly, dropping his hands down your sides and squeezing at your hips once.

You do as he asks and move off his lap, sitting on the other side of the couch; he doesn’t say anything else as he stands up himself, pulls his hoodie off over his head and tosses it to one side before sinking all the way down to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t see you. He shuffles into place with his back against the edge of the seat and only once he’s comfortable does he turn to look at you over one shoulder, grinning brilliantly.

“Okay,” he says, bending his knees and planting his heels into the floor. “Come here.”

You stand up off the cushions now and look down at him for a second, wondering what on Earth is going through his mind, but you know better than to start questioning his strange ideas. Especially when he’s in this sort of a mood. You step over him, one foot either side of his hips, and start to drop down too, but he puts a hand on each of your knees and stops you before you’re in his lap once again.

“No,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. His hands then make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pushes forwards, trying to guide you where he wants you. Your knees bend of their own accord and press against the couch on both sides of his head. “Like this.”

You don’t exactly freeze up, but it is as if you forget how to control all of your muscles for a second. The ones in your legs seem to turn to jelly and you know it’s only because the sofa is currently taking a portion of your weight that you don’t buckle completely and fall onto the top of his head. The ones in your face give you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed, unblinking expression.

Your abdominal muscles tighten and your cunt flutters at what you’re sure he’s trying to suggest, the rush of wetness you feel only worsened by the intensity in his eyes as he tips his head back and looks at you.

“Please?” He asks, all sweet but deep and rough at the same time.

“Are you s–?” You start to ask.

Wonwoo clicks his tongue at you and tries to encourage you further onto the couch to prove his point. “Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly.

And then, just so you really can’t mistake what he's asking for–

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Your entire body heats up at how bluntly he says it. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek so that you don’t accidentally laugh with the nerves already trying to burst out of your tummy.

It’s not that you don’t want to. If you had a penny for every time you’d thought about him giving himself up for your pleasure this way, you’d be rich. You do. You’re going a little crazy just imagining how good it’s going to feel.

It’s just that him being so bold about it has you feeling shy, and that’s never happened to you before. You’re at a loss. You’re totally stumped.

When you open your eyes again and look down at him, Wonwoo is just as earnest and hungry for you as he was a few seconds ago. If anything, it’s as if he wants it more. It’s without a doubt the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re nodding at him; his fingers start to drag up and down the backs of your thighs happily, before they hook under the waistband of your shorts and gently make that first little pull.

“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” he says to you, only pulling them all the way down when you start to help him. They get tossed over to the side to join his hoodie after you step out of them. His eyes glance to the panties you’re wearing – the last barrier, the final thing keeping him from what he’s so desperate for – before he looks back at your face and flashes you a smile. “Just tell me, okay?”

“It’s not that,” you laugh softly, taking off your own jumper and throwing it onto the pile. Wonwoo groans at the sight of you; you roll your eyes at him. “You just… took me by surprise.”

“Good,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around one of your legs and letting you settle onto your knees in position over his mouth, pressing his fingers into the top of your thigh.

The first soft press of his lips over your panties makes you gasp and you hold a little tighter onto the back cushions as you look down at him. His eyes are closed already as he breathes your heady scent in, deep enough to hopefully stain his lungs, enough that he’ll never get rid of it, that he’ll be able to carry you everywhere he goes.

But Wonwoo’s closed eyes aren’t the only thing you notice between your thighs and a soft laugh replaces the pleased sounds already spilling from your lips. One hand drops down to where he's settled and your fingers brush against his temple as they try to pinch at one side of his glasses. He looks affronted when he catches your gaze.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, gently moving your hand away.

You tilt your head at him. “Your glasses,” you prompt, moving to reach for them again. His fingers curl around your wrist and he shoves your hand into his hair instead, rubbing the tip of his nose against the inside of your thigh.

“I want to keep them on,” he tells you.

“What if they break?”

“Don’t care,” he hums, kissing his way back towards your covered pussy. “I’ll buy a new pair. I just wanna see you.”

You swallow at this and decide that you’re definitely not going to try and change his mind, instead choosing to tilt your head back and let his skilled tongue work you up through your underwear. It’s a mess of arousal and spit and they’re soaked, translucent, clinging to you by the time he’s frustrated with them; frankly, so are you, and it's a relief when he concludes that enough is enough.

“Baby,” he groans as he pulls your underwear to one side and has to crane his neck up to lick the flat of his tongue in a stripe up your slit. You whine, the cool air and his hot breaths a menacing mix of sensations, but you don’t have the sense to respond; one soft slap of his hand against your ass makes you look back down at him, though, and you’re met with dark eyes, flushed cheeks and a practically frenzied Wonwoo in the space between your hips. Your sweet, softly spoken boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“I said, sit.”

His strong arm tugs you down and your knees slide against the cushions, bringing your pussy even closer to his face, literally forcing you to rest against his lips. He chuckles triumphantly and buries his tongue between your folds, tasting you so much more legitimately than before. The way he loves – straight from the source, the spring. You feel him prod at your hole and your walls clench around what he gives you – barely just the tip, but it’s enough to have you reeling already, and when his other arm hooks around your other thigh, when he starts to move you back and forth, you take very little convincing to start to rock your hips down against him on your own.

“Oh,” you whimper as his lips seal around your clit and he sucks at it once, giving a few experimental flicks of his tongue at the same time. The hand in his hair tightens immediately and Wonwoo groans with you still in his mouth, sending delicious vibrations through your sensitive nerves and making you gush onto his chin.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he tells you, stroking his thumb over your waist. “Might be my new favourite view.”

He keeps lapping at you teasingly, testing circles and sideways motions, precise swipes, long drags; every subtle change as he tries to find what makes you scream in this position draws a different sound from your throat. He tenses the muscle and fucks your dribbling hole with it while encouraging you to move enough forward that his nose bumps against your clit with every jerky rock of your hips. You’re grinding faster, now, pressing down against his mouth harder, caring less by the second about whether his glasses are actually going to break in two. Besides, the way he drinks you down tells you that he could do this for a week straight without getting tired; he doesn’t want you to stop, or slow down, or ease up. He wants more. And if you’re too shy to give it to him, he’ll just take, take, take.

“Just– oh, fuck,” you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again and he laps at it with so much zeal that he could rival your favourite vibrator. “Just like that–”

Both of his hands grasp you tighter, squeezing and massaging and kneading at your soft skin as you chase your high on his pretty face. His eyes are tightly closed in his own rapture, and you hope that he won’t blame you for wanting him to open them; your hand pulls harshly at his hair again, hard enough to make him cringe, enough to make him stop for just a second before he sees how wound-up you look. You try to pull off from him a little, at least enough for him to catch a couple of breaths, but Wonwoo captures your pussy between his lips before you even hear him inhale.

“You– you wanted to s—see me,” you stutter out as the fire starts to catch and you feel warmth and ecstasy start to build at your core. “Fuck– ah–”

So he does. With big, hungry eyes, Wonwoo watches as you hurtle towards oblivion, as you writhe and squirm and grind down against his ardent mouth.

He sends you crashing over the edge with a wet sob, your own eyes closing now as you see stars in the darkness and ride your high out on his still-moving tongue. There are tears on your cheeks before you can do anything about it. Your walls spasm around nothing. He barely slows, taking back enough pressure so that your pleasure doesn’t turn to pain. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even blink until you’re out the other side of your climax, though.

When your pants start to die down and you’re twitching to get away from him, so sensitive that even his tiny kisses make you shudder, Wonwoo drops his head back down to the pillows and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. You don’t have the strength to move yet, still reeling, still too floaty to try for any level of coordination, but he doesn’t mind. Your swollen, glistening pussy right over his face is something he'd pay millions to see.

“Didn’t even break the glasses,” you laugh weakly once your voice decides to come back to you.

“Mm,” Wonwoo hums, sliding them off his nose and inspecting them. He ‘tsk’s before putting them back on. They’re steamed at the edges and a little smeary now, and he surely can’t actually see that clearly through them. He obviously doesn’t care. “That’s not good enough.”

“Huh?” you ask, moving carefully so as not to plant your knee into his jaw but still trying to bring your legs together so that you can sit to one side. He isn't having it, though, and slowly shuffles up onto his knees, turns around to face you and lays his fingers on one of your ankles, wasting no time in trying to pry your legs apart again.

“That’s. Not. Good. Enough,” he repeats, using his other hand to palm himself over the fabric of his sweatpants. The tent in them would be comical if it weren’t for the animalistic look in his eyes; there’s nothing laughable about the way he’s looking at you right now, though.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” You ask, opening back up for him and not hiding how you stare as he rips his shirt off over his head. Then, he slides his fingertips up the inside of your calf, to your knee, down your thigh… he drags them over the lips of your pussy and collects a little of your slick on them before bringing his hand to his lips and sucking it clean.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he tells you, groaning at your sweet taste as if he wasn’t just drowning in it a minute and a half ago. He lowers himself until he's once more level with your cunt and guides both of your legs over his shoulders, smirking up at your expectant face. “Maybe try to squeeze your thighs a little more this time. See if that does the trick.”

thank you so much for reading!! i hope u enjoyed this hehe. as always, likes, reblogs, replies, feedback and asks are always super appreciated.<3

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #*#j writes.#this is the best title i've ever given anything and if you disagree. argue with the wall #i'm fucking hilarious. anyway don't perceive me.#taking myself to horknee jail right this second

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