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bywons · 2 months

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✶ A LITTLE HELP — SJY

╰—— 𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

( ✶🪽𝓢. ) 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 ? 1217 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 contains ! 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 (?), 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 ✦ ◞ 𝒞 ATALOGUE?!

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

“i mean your abs are pretty impressive, pretty convenient for a washing board though.”

an offended, loud gasp from just beside you, makes you giggle. the cardboard boxes rustle against each other, a few of them being opened up to take out your newly ordered white vases, which your helpful neighbour skillfully places among the wooden shelves.

meanwhile, you wipe off the dust and rearrange the little trinkets on the white showcase, occasionally admiring your handsome neighbours’ work.

“when did you see my abs though, are you lying to me, ms y/n?”, jake scoffs, putting the last vase on the shelf.

you giggle, finishing off your work on the showcase, “i think you're forgetting that our apartment complex has a gym, mr jake,” you walk towards him, an unexpected rise in your heartbeat, “last week.”

“was i on the bench press?”, jake smirks, before catching his lower lip between his teeth and flicking it outside. you don't know what he's trying to do with all that, but he is sure to make your heart beat faster.

“treadmill”, you correct him.

the proximity between you and your striking neighbour increases by the windowsill, where both mild sun rays and inquisitive pairs of eyes can peek in, but it's something that doesn't bother you. after all, sim jake is only here to help you, just a helping hand for you when you've decided to clean and rearrange your apartment.

you don't know how the helping part is kept aside for now, confused at how jake is staring into your eyes, a hesitant but longing step closer to you. he should've been helping you with the bookshelf now, stacking in the new books to the according racks.

but right now he is busy igniting new feelings to your heart.

jake is too close for your own good, left hand threatening to close in around your waist and pull you into such a proximity he has only imagined. he could smear that pink lip gloss of yours now, his hand on you and his mind all dizzy, it would be a perfect weekend for him.

and as he's about to accomplish that, when you swiftly glide out of his imaginary hold on you and pick up the new books to be kept in place, breaking your poor neighbours’ heart.

“that's too much work for a pretty girl like you,” jake was fast, you have to give it to him, well not only in pace but also incredibly fast to make you squeal inside, “i'll take them from ‘ya.”

“you know i can do that myself”, you scoff, leaning against the bookshelf as he snatches the basket full of new books, arranging them.

“yes ma'am”, jake sings, pulling out another giggle from you while he pushes the new books between the old ones, “but i'd rather do it myself you know? wouldn't want your arms all tired.”

you had enough time, strength and leisure to stroll around your apartment and bedeck it, a change of scenario and colours for your eyes, a break from the dust collecting shelves eyeing you from their constant spot. you definitely didn't need another flirty neighbours’ help who could easily pull you into a scandal.

five months ago when you first moved in here, you didn't expect a cheeky, lovestruck neighbour, jake, to knock on your doors every weekend. and even if you're not willing to talk, his flirting skills would find his way to your smile anyway.

so jake became a regular face to witness, a regular voice to hear and a regular touch that you wished would linger for one more second.

“nosy neighbours”, jake reads out the title of the last book on his hand, “ouch, am i a nosy neighbour?”, a dramatic hand over his heart and a fake pout made you giggle harder.

“shut up jake”, you roll your eyes, hitting his arm.

“actually i'd like to borrow this book from ya”,

“you read books too?”, you tilt your head in confusion, an eyebrow raised at his request.

“are you surprised?”, jake giggles, taking a step closer to you as he secures the book in his hand.

“of course i am”, you let out a hearty laugh, hands flying up to your face to cover your flushed cheeks, “i thought all you do is flirt with women and lure them into your apartment”, you tease.

“that's not very nice, ms y/n,” and he goes back to his unnecessary honorific and a dangerous smirk tugging at his lips, making you swoon, “i’m hurt to know you think of me like that.”

jake leans in until he's face to face with you, his hot breath tickles your cheeks and makes them bloom from inside. he's at it again, his infamous grin while he stares you down, his rosy lips are too close to yours.

“the only woman i want to take home is you”, he whispers, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ears. his eyes wander about to face, to your eyes to lips to neck to your eyes again, “do they kiss in the book?”

“no spoilers”, you whisper back.

“fair enough”, jake scoffs, his lips hovering over the corner of yours as he pulls you in by your waist, until you have to create a barricade between you two by softly pressing your palms against his chest. but jake doesn't really gives you what you want, he teases you, grazing his lips over the corners of yours and pressing a light peck on your cheek before pulling back.

he leaves you blushing and stunned, which he likes and smiles at.

“o-ok now i have a lot of work,” you hurriedly grab jake’s hand and begin to drag him towards the door.

“aww are you shooing me away, y/n?”, jake whines, walking the few steps to the exit on his own, “i was just having fun!”

“i wasn't”, you bite your lips, suppressing in a chuckle as you look at him, standing on your threshold.

“oh? is that so?”, jake's eyes widens, he's loving this little act of yours.

as if you didn't turn butter under his touch just a few seconds ago.

“yeah! now off you go jake, i have a lot of things to do”, you try to send him off, lightly pushing on his chest and he's quick to grab your hand.

he brings it near his lips and kisses the inside of your wrist, looking up at you he says, “why don't you come over someday? return my favour maybe?”

all the blood in your body rushes up to your ears and cheeks and you stand still before him, not knowing what to do when you slowly retract your hand. he's intoxicating and he knows it, even if you don't visit him, jake already has an excuse to return his borrowed book to see your pretty face again. maybe you should give it a thought, give him a chance? after all, you can't deny the fact that he does make your heart beat faster.

you clear your throat, “i'll think about it.”

jake chuckles, “you better, ‘want to lure in my favourite pretty girl”, he winks at you, a final blow before he quickly pecks your cheek again, “9:30, i'll be waiting, gorgeous.”

📌:: TAGLIST IS OPEN ! nets. @/k-labels tags! @bambisite @leaderwon @dimplewonie @wonfilms @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @flwrstqr @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belowbun @belovedsthings @moond1or

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cockaiine · 3 months

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‘ Earned it ’ ft. r.sukuna

haunted by jujutsu sorcerers, you come to Sukuna for help. after begging to work under him, he agrees. what could the King of Curses possibly have in store for you..?

ɞ⁺ contains: heian era!sukuna x curse user! fem!reader, afab!reader, four arms sukuna, degradation, praise, cussing, riding, choking, hair pulling, mean sukuna, mentions of killing, mentions of blood, making out, unprotected sex, creampie, suggestion of overstim

ɞ⁺ w.c: 3.6k

ɞ⁺ note: thank you to my favorite @sttoru for beta reading! this took forever. hope you enjoy!

“Couldn’t you just kill her?”

What?

Standing before you is a man that embodies terror—a tremendous body and another pair of arms to make him even more distinct. The name Ryomen Sukuna is a chilling one, so many stories embellished around it. Hearts tremble with fear of each fable. You have heard of all his atrocities, cruelties sorcerers were subject to. But, as you stand in his presence, you begin to realize that these tales barely scratch the surface of his menace.

Adults employed his name to compel sleep, a whispered threat to coax children into slumber. You were no exception, truly. But you were always fierce, a soul unafraid.

Right. That’s what got you into the mess you’re in right now.

“I’m sorry, my lord. But if that’s your wish, then I shall go ahead and-”

“No-! Wait… please,” you surprise even yourself, words spill forth at their own accord. Your throat grows dry at the way both of them turn to look at you. struggling to maintain composure, you implore, “Please, just one chance. I promise I can make myself useful. I’d do anything. Anything.”

An amused chuckle thunders in Sukuna’s chest. It’s a cruel sound, imposing fear upon your senses. “And.. what exactly makes you think a meek sorcerer like you could be of any use to me?”

He’s almost offended by the notion. Sukuna is in need of no one. Especially not you; a sorcerer that came begging for his help. How ridiculous.

“I-I’m a first grade!” you exclaim, “I can do so many things, I-”

“Shut it.” The nearly-amused expression has been dropped, a somber tone to replace that. Your eyes widen immediately, a telltale sign of the terror you feel. “You are a weak sorcerer. You are nothing. Do you have any argument to make?”

“No, my lord,” your eyes meet the floor in a hard glare, cursing your misfortune.

You came to Uraume with hope, recalling a past acquaintance. You had not anticipated the drastic change in her. Standing against jujutsu sorcerers was no wise choice. You found yourself haunted down with no other choice.

Perhaps finding a protector would help—someone whom all sorcerers fear, compelled by their dread to leave you unharmed. None other than the King of Curses himself. If you devoted yourself to his service, showing unmatched loyalty, maybe then he’d protect you.

If only life is so forgiving.

You believed Uraume could help. You convinced yourself that alignment with Sukuna's subordinate could forge a safer path for protection. For safety. Yet, the last outcome you could have predicted was a suggestion for your execution.

“Good,” is his sole utterance. Uraume stands a few feet away, silent unless addressed.

Even with your eyes cast down, you can feel Sukuna’s eyes surveying you, the weight of four eyes is not an easy one. His gaze is empty, one of menace. You do not appear weak, though relative to him you certainly are. However, he trusts Uraume's judgment, convinced there must be a valid reason for your presence.

“I’ll… think about it,” You hear. Your head lifts abruptly, disbelief mingling with hope at the prospect of succor etched on your face. A sigh escapes you, looking at his hard features. Despite your awareness that Sukuna's motives lack benevolence or goodwill, you grasp at any opportunity presented.

“Thank you,” your knees buckle beneath you. Tears of relief flood your eyes as you continue. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You can flee now,” he replies curtly. You weren’t expecting much more anyway. “Uraume, lead her out.”

The curse user complies, leading you from the chambers of the King of Curses. Reaching the exit, you extend a hand toward Uraume before she returns inside.

“Th-thank you…” You muster.

“I’m not the one you’re to thank,” Her gaze is hard as ice, empty as one’s could be. You were hoping for some warmth, a semblance of assurance in a world so cruel. But who were you kidding; you held no significance to Uraume, who had long forsaken her humanity to serve solely the King of Curses. “Lord Sukuna has the highest authority over your life right now. Don’t screw your chances.”

The door slams in your visage before you can reply. You swallow. Uncertainty begins to bubble into you. What if he changes his mind? What if this was some kind of ruse?

But it wasn’t, and not too long later you find yourself in Sukuna’s chambers. You hear he’s beaten yet another jujutsu sorcerer, this one remarkable. It’s a surprise to no one. You hope you’re not next.

You’re even given a room to yourself, one you barely leave unless for food. The concept of running into Sukuna terrifies you.

A loud knock comes from the sliding door, making you flinch. You hasten to it, crouching before the wooden barrier. Your palms lay flat against the surface as you slide it open with ease. Uraume towers above you, her gaze fixed.

“Lord Sukuna requires your immediate attendance,” she tells you.

“I-I’ll be right there,” your breath falters, looking up at the white-haired woman. Uraume stands still. You realize she’s only waiting for you to gather yourself and accompany her.

You’re quick to oblige, standing up and trying your best to dispel the embarrassing fear displayed over your features. With swift movement, you grab your kosode’s belt and wrap it tightly around your middle. You stand before Uraume, who looks you up and down before simply turning around and walking, expecting you to keep up.

Anxiety plagues you, your mind racing with all the possibilities of what reason Sukuna would summon you. You’re so preoccupied that you don’t realize Uraume's route isn’t the same one you took to his chamber last time.

Sooner than you anticipate, Uraume takes an abrupt halt by a door. You nearly collide face-first with the finely painted wood. Recoiling, your eyes study the door. Patterns adorn the wood, carved carefully by the hands of a professional.

The detail on the door captivates you, it makes you wonder if Sukuna has truly observed it even once in his life. Your appreciation of it is short-lived, as Uraume calls you and pulls you out of thought.

“Pay attention or face expulsion,” she hisses before knocking at the door.

A grunted “You may enter,” resonates from inside. The curse user beside you immediately falls to her knees, and you follow path. Her hands lift to the door, which weighs more than yours, and she opens it with a fluid gesture.

“She has arrived, my lord.”

“Very well,” Sukuna utters. Emboldened, you look up, and the sight you’re met with makes your face heat up. There he sits, expression unyielding and gaze inscrutable, his torso is bare—save for the black marks that adorn his chiseled body. On any other day, you would have stopped to admire the sight, but today your eyes go back to staring at your bent knees. “Come in.”

Uraume knows she’s not the one intended, while you know that you are. With great force, you’re capable of pushing yourself up and walking toward the man sitting on the floor.

The door shuts as soon as you step foot into the room, making you flinch. “W-How can I help you, my Lord?”

Quietly, Sukuna hums in thought. His scrutiny of you, trailing to your feet and then meeting your eyes once more, kindles a patent tension within. There’s a sick, twisted desire within you—a desire for the man who would kill you without second thought.

“You said you can do many things, have you not?” He raises a single eyebrow.

“Indeed, my lord,” You muster. The chamber you stand in is spacious, slowly realizing that you are within his personal quarters—a place few may enter, as you understand it.

“Let’s test that out, shall we?” he says with a sinister smirk. “Do you know how to relieve muscle tension?”

“Certainly, my lord. Do you need any assistance with that?” You speak a little more than necessary. But he doesn’t mind too much. Your vocal cords make a soothing voice anyway.

“I’d like to see what you're capable of,” he states, malice evident in his tone, prompting you to brace for the potential consequences.

He gestures for you to approach the curtained futon, elevated on what appears to be several stacks of wood. It feels peculiar to see him prone on his stomach, but it affords you an unmatched view of his well-defined back—truly a sight to see.

Whether he trusts you or deems you harmless remains uncertain. Common sense suggests the latter, though you prefer to believe the former to spare yourself from embarrassment.

A small bottle sits beside his bed, a bottle of fine oil. With refined movement, you pick it up, spilling a fair amount on your hand before spreading it gently over his back.

You work silently, kneading hardened flesh. His unique anatomy intrigues you, especially navigating around two sets of arms. Your fingers continue to glide between the muscles, working your way into easing any knots.

Once your fingers reach his neck, a low grunt leaves his lips. You’re surprised… But even more so, the feeling lingering deep within you is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Your thighs squeeze against each other in hopes of relieving some of the heat that’s itching at your core.

With every stroke of your skilled fingertips, the tension threaded in his muscles ease, all the while the tension between the two of you grows unbearably palpable.

After a few moments, you grow hot. you pause and slightly loosen the belt of your kosode to cool down. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna, who peeks upwards subtly. He has no shame, raising his head further and looking you up and down. The loosened kosode exposes cleavage, and Sukunua overtly stares.

He pushes himself up, sitting on the bed. Shadows of his frame dance against the curtains surrounding his bed, the room dimly lit by candles. Posture straight, an expression of attendance on your face, you keep your eyes on him and await what he has to say.

You’re dangerous, Sukuna realizes. You’re not going to make this easy on him. His self-restraint is wearing thin.

“Sit,” He beckons you with a large hand. Albeit hesitant, you oblige and sit on the lifted futon in an awkward position.

There is no denying the way his gaze makes you feel. There’s a sense of vulnerability, and a sense of excitement. You choose to remain silent, waiting patiently for his next move.

Slowly, he leans his head in your way. Your eyes immediately flit away, heat rising into your face.

“Heh,” He smirks widely, leaning away. “You’re quite amusing, you know that?”

You grow embarrassed, displeased by the way he’s talking. You’re about to comment but ultimately choose to stop yourself from saying something that could get you in trouble.

Sukuna leans forward again, this time a little further from you. The hand he places on the bed for balance dips the fabric down. “Look at me when I address you, human.”

It’s humiliating how he talks to you. For some inexplicable reason, it arouses you all the same. You’re quick to oblige. Sukuna can feel his cock harden in his pants at the way you bat your lashes his way. He knew there was something so enticing about you the moment he saw you walking behind Uraume, even more now under the dim lights and in the revealing silk. He wants a piece of you.

Cancel that. He wants all of you.

“You have a pleasing appearance,” He tells you, eyes instinctively falling to your lips. “A fine figure too. Why don’t you put that to good use, hm?”

“What would you suggest, my lord?” You rouse. “I’m at your service.”

Sukunas face draws closer to yours once more. A single hand rises to your face, cradling your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “Interesting… You’re not dumb, are you?”

There’s a clear implication behind his words; take the hint, or don’t. You take a leap of faith, diminishing the space between your faces and pressing your lips firmly against his.

The hand that once held your face now rests on your neck, holding you in place. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, prompting you to give him entrance. He keeps his eyes open, watching over you with amusement you fail to see as your eyes are shut close.

Your mouth is warm and inviting, compelling him to savor every bit of the fiber inside. But he’s interrupted by you pulling away for air.

“Fucking brat,” he curses, pulling you back in before you can gasp another much-needed breath. His palm falls from your neck and skims the skin of your shoulder. In contrast to his typical demeanor, Sukuna’s movement is agonizingly slow as he pushes the cloth off your skin. Little by little, until your torso is exposed to the biting chill of the air, shivers cascade along your spine, eliciting goosebumps across your flesh.

Adrenaline rushes through your veins. Your heart throbs as your hands find his neck, the other on his shoulder. Closer. Your tongues dance, and the taste of you is addicting. Closer. His hands run over your bare skin, feeling up your curves. Closer. Nothing seems to be close enough. You need to be one with him.

Once content, Sukuna pulls away. The smirk on his face is enough reminder you’ve got nothing on him. “You’re weak.”

“‘M not,” you retort stubbornly, struggling to regain your breath. “You caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, right,” Sukuna’s hands fall to your hips. You would have never foreseen a scenario where you contest his words. Not without your head cut off before you completely utter your words. But this brazen attitude of yours is exciting to Sukuna, who can feel the pre staining his pants, cock now painfully hard. Just from kissing.

He maneuvers you with ease, leaning comfortably against the wall before placing you over his middle. You gasp once moved, eyes wide in surprise. You give no signs of struggle, though, so Sukuna continues.

Starting with the loosened belt, then the silk kosode. You’re bare under, left exposed to four eyes’ devouring gaze.

“Heh,” is what he says, feeling your wetness against his abdomen. “Is the wanted criminal so needy already? How sweet.”

“I’m quite sure you share the desire, my lord,” you whisper, drawing a chuckle from him. You bend forward until your face hovers tantalizingly close to his ear.“Do you not want a taste of me, my lord? I can show you what no woman has ever done.”

While the title ‘my lord’ has come from many to him, it rolls off your tongue differently. You’re so confident in your skills, and he has a feeling you’re not lying.

“I very much doubt that,” he lies, causing you to pucker your lower lip in disdain. You’re set on proving him wrong, prepared to showcase the extent of your capabilities.

Lifting your weight from his form, you turn around and give him your back. He stares down at you, an amorous grin adorning his face. Delicately, you trace your fingers over the prominent bulge in his pants. There is no mistaking the grunt that escapes him at the contact. The bulge largens. The tension grows. You swallow quietly.

“May I?” You whisper, barely audible.

“By all means,” he responds, his smirk persisting despite the furrow in his brow. Tender fingers slip beneath the waistband of his pale trousers, gradually coaxing them downward.

The sight makes you stop in your tracks; his cock springs to life, a lengthy shaft you’re not so sure you can take. The thought of going back on your words fleets momentarily across your mind, but you refrain. There’s svelteness to the way your fingers graze this tip, tinted with an angry pink. You spread the warm pre-cum over it for lubrication, softly pumping your hands over his shaft.

Surprise intensifies in you when it grows larger, making your insides churn. Your fingers continue their work, eliciting louder sounds from him.

You’re fascinated by it, a beautiful length framed by trimmed pubes. It starts with a color marginally darker than his skin, gradually merging into the angry pink hue that tints his tip. You can’t not stare.

You turn back around, looking at the man sitting before you. The King of Curses with all his mind with a troubled expression, his resolve long worn off.

“You’re taking too long,” He threatens. “Get on it already, woman.”

No less is expected from the King of Curses; he’s straightforward as one could be. A yelp escapes your lips when his hands land a firm grip on your hips, forcefully lifting you up.

You’re placed on his length without any warning, causing a loud cry to break out of you. Tears gather in your eyes at the sudden stretch. You feel him, all of him; thick and long and painful and good.

Drawing a sharp breath, you attempt to adjust to the stretch.

“Can’t take it?” His smirk taunts you. “Pathetic.”

“I-I can,” you steady yourself with two palms against the curves of his abs. “Let me get- ah–!”

Your moan synchronizes with the groan he emits, his hands maintaining a firm grasp on your ass cheeks as he lifts you upwards for friction before abruptly slamming you back down. The way your gummy walls wrap tight around him nearly makes him dizzy. Sukuna is almost sure this pussy was made for him and only him.

“Fuck–” he grunts, head thrown back as you move steadily. His hand grabs your waist for guidance as you huff and puff, trying not to be too loud but it’s so hard when he hits all the right places. Your heart thrums in your chest, body shaking at the euphoria that’s clouding your senses.

There’s rhythm to the sounds of breathing, creating a symphony of pleasure as you roll your hips, pace fastening every second. Sukuna’s hand is light against your hip, a thumb extending to rub your clit in a gentle manner, drawing circles over the soft bud.

“Oh– M’lord– I’m..” words bleed into moans you can no longer contain. Every thrust hits deeper, and every movement makes you squeeze tighter around his cock. Your eyes roll back, and Sukuna swears he could get off to your expression alone.

When a cold grip meets the writ of one of his lower arms, Sukuna’s eyes flee your face in curiosity. His hand is heavier than you expect. You softly raise his palm, desperately leaving it at your neck.

He chuckles. He loves the desperation in your eyes, the way your hips thrust sloppily, the way you claw at his chest for a symbol of control as you try your best to stay true to your words. Warm digits wrap around your neck and squeeze it lightly.

“C’mere,” he breathes, pulling you by your neck. Your lips clash into his with a gasp. God, you’re intoxicating him. Teeth tug at your bottom lip despite your mouth being agape. The moan that escapes you is happily drank down by him.

Humidity clouds the place, shiny sweat dripping down your neck. You’re in too much ecstasy to think anyway.

Sukuna sucks at your bottom lip, his hand moving from your neck to cradle the back of your head then tug at your hair.

You’re magic, the sight of you inebriating him utterly. You’re a trigger, back arched towards him in desperation. All to feel more. How greedy. You’re deadly, bouncing on him like that’s what you were made for, resolve renewing to keep up for as long as you could.

“Fuck- attagirl,” his eyes shut, dopamine rises, and all he can do is feel. “Good- shit– yeah, yeah–”

“‘M close-” your moan is pitched, walls tightening around him. “Ah– I’m– ‘m so close-”

Your entire body shakes, legs trembling and nearly giving out. A harsh slap lands across the skin on your ass, his fingers kneading the flesh before landing another slap against it. You can still feel the heat of his palm even as he moves it to hold your face harshly. “Don’t be fucking weak. H-shit–”

It turns you on, he realizes. To be treated like a ragdoll and pushed around.

“Like that huh?” another spank. “Like being hit? Tch, wh-what a fucking brat”

“Yes–!” You gasp, movement accelerating over him, drawing half of him out just to enroll him in your warmth again. He can sense your orgasm approaching, walls dangerously tight around him. His tip hits your good spot, and you go at it and at it again, moaning loudly as your nails bruise his chest.

A string of curses escapes his lips, neck stretched as your head inches closer, pressing a kiss to the skin. He groans louder, moving you faster on his dick as your pace wasn’t enough.

“Hah– I– I’m gonna– Sukuna-sama I—”

Your mouth falls open, and breath fast. You see stars, cumming all over him. The fiber of your insides pulses around him, surrounding his cock with your essence.

Nails dig into your flesh, and Sukuna’s body tenses. A desperate whine escapes you when you feel the white ropes spilling inside you. Your movement persists, set on milking every last drop he has to offer.

His chest rises and falls, a palm coming to cover his face while another pair sits on your hips. You attempt to move, trying to pull yourself off his cock. But his hands pull you back down with potent. You’ve grown sensitive, so his action draws a loud whine from you.

“Where to?” He sneers at you. “You’re not done yet, are you? ‘This all you can do?”

It’s an obvious challenge. Despite the fatigue you’re starting to feel, you’re not one to back down from challenges. Least of all ones pronounced by him.

#✧˚₊‧𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader smut

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sadnymi · 3 months

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「 ✦ Euphoria. ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle x Inexperienced!reader]

Request: can you perhaps do an inexperienced reader x mattheo with like thigh riding and dry humping .

Words: 2.400

Warning: thighs riding, dry humping, f(orgasm), fluff ,smut .

Sat alone at the top of the Astronomy Tower, hidden away from prying eyes, consumed by the weight of my emotions. Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably, my sobs echoing off the stone walls as I struggled to contain the storm raging within me.

Suddenly, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, I looked up to see Mattheo, his concerned eyes searching mine. He pushed the strands of hair away from my face, brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

"What's wrong, my love?" he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. "Why are you crying like this Y/N?"

I hiccupped through my tears, unable to form words as the pain threatened to overwhelm me. But Mattheo pulled me into his arms, holding me close as he whispered sweet words of comfort and reassurance.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my wounded soul. "You can tell me anything, darling. I promise I'll fix it for you. I hate to see tears in those beautiful eyes."

His words melted away the walls around my heart, and I buried my face in his chest, letting myself be enveloped by his love and warmth. In that moment, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as I had Mattheo by my side, everything would be okay.

“He called me a prude," I choked out, my voice trembling with emotion. "He said I ruined our date because I wouldn't let him touch me. He said so many hurtful things...".

Mattheo's expression softened with understanding as he listened attentively, his arms wrapped protectively around me. "I'm so sorry, my love," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

"You did nothing wrong. You have every right to set boundaries and expect respect and he’s going to pay for each tear that falls from your eyes."

His words washed over me like a soothing balm, calming the storm of doubts and insecurities raging within me. "I just wanted to feel wanted," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "To go on a date like the other girls..."

"You are wanted, more than you could ever know," he insisted, his gaze burning with intensity. "Not by just anyone, but by someone who sees your worth, your beauty, your intelligence, and your kindness. Someone who loves you for exactly who you are."

His words struck a chord deep within me, touching a part of my soul that I had thought long buried beneath layers of self-doubt. "But I'm a prude," I protested weakly, the label still echoing in my mind.

Mattheo's expression softened, his eyes filled with an emotion that sent a shiver down my spine. "You're not,"

"Baby, it's not like that," he reassured me, his voice gentle but firm. "You're not a prude. Those boys don't even deserve one tear from those beautiful eyes."

I gazed at him, my heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief at his heartfelt words. His unwavering belief in me, his unwavering love, it was overwhelming. And as I looked into his eyes, filled with an intensity that took my breath away.

"But I'm inexperienced," I admitted quietly, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

His response was immediate, his tone filled with unwavering confidence. "You're just waiting for the right person," he assured me, his gaze steady.

I met his eyes, searching for the courage to express the feelings that swirled within me. I longed to tell him in that moment that he was the only boy who mattered to me, that my heart beat for him alone. But the fear of rejection held me back. He was Mattheo, and I was just me. How could I dare to dream of being more than his best friend?

"But what if the right person never sees me? What if they never develop feelings for me?" I questioned, my voice betraying my uncertainty.

His response was gentle yet firm, his touch tender as he held my face in his hands. "Then you need to look more closely," he replied, his eyes flickering briefly to my lips before meeting mine once more.

As his breath caressed my face, his proximity sending a wave of anticipation coursing through me, I closed my eyes, unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing us together. I felt the gentle brush of his finger against my lower lip, a tender gesture that sent a shiver of excitement down my spine.

"Why are you wasting your time with those stupid boys, baby?" his voice was a soft murmur, laden with sincerity and affection. I dared to open my eyes, finding myself lost in the intensity of his gaze. He was so close, his presence enveloping me in warmth and reassurance.

And then, without hesitation, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that stole my breath away. His lips were soft, so achingly soft against mine, yet the kiss held a passion and longing that left me utterly breathless.

In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of us suspended in time. His lips moved against mine with a gentle urgency, as if he was pouring all his unspoken feelings into the kiss. It was my first kiss, but it felt like so much more – it felt like the culmination of every unspoken desire and every hidden longing we had ever shared.

I melted into his embrace, my hands finding their way to his shoulders as I surrendered myself completely to the intoxicating sweetness of his kiss. The world around us ceased to exist as we lost ourselves in each other, our hearts beating as one in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

And as our lips finally parted, leaving us both breathless and flushed with desire

" you kissed me," I whispered, my voice barely a breath as I searched his eyes for answers.

He smiled, a softness in his gaze that made my heart flutter. "It took me so long to, but I did," he admitted, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and longing.

"Why did you kiss me?" I couldn't help but ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Because I felt like I would have died if I didn't," he confessed, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through me.

I looked at him, my heart pounding in my chest as I dared to ask the question that had been lingering on my mind. "Do you... do you like me too?"

His response was immediate, his voice filled with a raw intensity that took my breath away. "Fuck, baby," he moaned, his words a desperate plea. "I'm in love with you. So deeply in love with you."

As he kissed me again, I melted into him, lost in the sensation of his lips against mine. But then I felt something beneath me, and I pulled back, concern etching my features.

"See, that's what you do to me," he murmured, his voice strained with desire.

I gasped, realizing the effect I was having on him. "It feels good," I admitted, my cheeks flushing with heat.

He smirked, his eyes darkening with lust. "What feels good, baby?" he teased, his hands roaming over my body.

"this... Mattheo, oh i this so good I want more ," I confessed, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through me.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his grip tightening on my thighs as I moved against him again.

But then, I felt a pang of worry. "I'm so sorry, Mattheo. Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," I babbled, my nerves getting the best of me.

He hushed me gently, his touch soothing my frayed nerves. "Shhh, my sweet girl, you did nothing wrong. It's just... if you continue to do that, it might....." he trailed off, his words leaving me hanging in suspense.

I swallowed hard, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over me. "Did you ever experience the feeling of orgasm before? I mean, with yourself," he asked softly, his eyes filled with understanding.

I shook my head, feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "No," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

But instead of judgment, I found only warmth and reassurance in his gaze. He smiled gently and kissed me again, his lips tender against mine.

"So that makes you feel good?" he asked, his voice soft with concern. As I nodded, he continued, "I'm going to give you more, but let's take it step by step, okay?"

I nodded eagerly, desperate for more of the pleasure he could offer. And as he trailed kisses along my neck, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine, I knew that I was in good hands.

As his hands trailed up my thighs, pushing my dress higher until my wet panties were exposed, I felt a surge of anticipation coursing through me. His touch was electric, igniting a fire deep within me that I couldn't extinguish.

With a gentle yet firm hand, he guided me to straddle his thigh, positioning me so that I could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against me. I gasped at the sensation, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my body.

"You're so fucking sexy," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "I love seeing you like this, all wet and ready for me."

I moaned in response, the sensation of his thigh against my throbbing core driving me wild with need. And as he began to move me against him, guiding my hips with his hands, I felt a wave of pleasure building deep within me.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with approval. "That's it, ride my thigh just like that."

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he continued to move me against him. With each thrust of my hips, I felt the tension building, the pleasure mounting with every stroke.

His lips found mine in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as he urged me to let go of my inhibitions. "Don't be afraid, baby," he murmured against my lips. "Just feel it."

But with each movement, I could feel my pussy throbbing against his hard thigh, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me. And then, as if by instinct, I shifted my hips, seeking more contact, more friction.

Mattheo groaned in response, his grip tightening on my hips as I ground against him with reckless abandon. "Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good against me."

And then, as the pleasure reached its peak, I felt something new, something I had never experienced before. It was a tightness in my stomach, a fluttering sensation that seemed to radiate throughout my entire body.

"What... what is this feeling?" I gasped, my voice filled with uncertainty as I struggled to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through me.

He kissed and sucked my neck gently, his lips sending shivers of pleasure down my spine. "Don't be afraid, my sweet girl," he whispered. "That's pleasure, and you deserve every bit of it."

I moaned in response, the sensation of his lips against my skin driving me wild with desire. With every movement, I felt myself drawing closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

I moved my hips against his thigh, craving more of the friction that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. His grip tightened on my hips, his touch electric as he guided me in my movements.

I felt a new hunger stirring deep within me. I wanted more, I needed more, and I knew that he was the only one who could give it to me.

"Please," I begged, my voice barely a whisper. "I want more."

He grinned, his eyes gleaming with lust as he moved me against him, his own arousal pressing against me now. "You want more, baby?" he growled, his hands gripping my hips possessively. "Then let me give it to you."

With a wicked grin, he shifted me slightly, guiding me so that I could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against my soaked panties. As he moved me against him, the friction sent bolts of pleasure shooting through me, and I couldn't help but moan in response.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Feel how hard you make me. Feel what you do to me."

I whimpered as he continued to move me against him, the pleasure mounting with every stroke. His lips found mine in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with mine as he urged me on.

"Ride me, baby," he growled, his voice filled with hunger. "Show me how much you want it."

With a desperate cry, I began to move against him, my hips rocking back and forth as I sought out the delicious friction he offered. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over me, building with every stroke until I was teetering on the edge of ecstasy once more.

He watched me with hungry eyes, his hands gripping my hips as he guided me in my movements. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "You're doing so well."

Encouraged by his praise, I moved faster, my body craving more of the pleasure he was giving me. With each thrust, I felt myself drawing closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

And then, with a cry of pure ecstasy, I felt it happen. My body convulsed with uncontrollable spasms as waves of pleasure crashed over me, and I screamed his name as I tumbled over the edge into oblivion.

He held me close as I trembled with the force of my release, his arms wrapped around me protectively. And as I lay there, spent and sated in his arms, I knew that I had never experienced anything like this before.

He kissed my forehead softly, his lips tender against my skin as he whispered, "You're amazing, baby. Absolutely amazing."

I looked up at him, my body still tingling from the incredible pleasure he had just given me. "Matt, can you make me feel that feeling again? Can you teach me more " I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

His eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at me, his fingers trailing lightly along my neck. "Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice husky with need. "The things I want to do to you, the things I'm gonna do to you...".

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #fluff imagines #inexperienced #inexperiencedreader

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evie-sturns · 4 months

Text

ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: it's your 5 month anniversary with matt, to celebrate he takes you to a drive in movie, but things don't turn out the way you expected.

contains: smut, semi public sex, car sex, fluff, swearing.

-----------------------°°••....••°°--------------————

9:48pm

i've been rotting it bed since i woke up in the mid-afternoon, the light in my room is fading as the sun sets. with a dramatic sigh i roll over in bed to check my phone, i have several missed calls from my boyfriend, matt.

"shit." i mumble to myself, dialing matt's number after accidentally ignoring him for half the day.

"y/n, are you okay?" matt says with a sigh through the phone.

"yeah.. yeah i'm sorry i was asleep, you okay?" i reply, dragging myself out of bed as i clutch my phone in one hand.

"meet me outside in 10 minutes okay?"

"matt, i just woke up." i groan, stripping down to nothing before rummaging through my closet for anything to wear.

"doesn't matter sweetheart." i can hear matts smile in his voice as he hangs up.

my eyebrows furrow with confusion as i pull up my jeans, i place my phone back down on my bed and dart around my ensuite, messily applying mascara and attempting to tie my hair into two braids.

the rumble of matts van pulling into my driveway echos from outside my house, followed by 4 gentle knocks on my front door. "doors unlocked!" i yell out, yanking up my socks past my ankles.

i hear approaching footsteps up my stairs, matt swings open my door.

hes wearing dad jeans, and a cute red crewneck which slightly hugs his waist.

"matt!" i exclaim, running up to him and embracing matt in a tight hug. he laughs before rubbing my back.

"happy anniversary" matt smiles, grabbing my hand as i pull away.

"ready to go?" he asks, i clear my throat quietly.

if im being honest i have no idea where we are meant to be going, i can't remember if matt's told me or not.

"okay.." i force a confident tone, letting matt guide us downstairs and out into the driveway where his grey minivan is parked, barely illuminated from the decaying streetlight above.

he opens the door for me, mindlessly i jump into the passenger seat, switching my phone on do not disturb while matt climbs into the drivers side, turning on the ignition.

after several minutes of small talk matt pulls off the main road, towards an empty parking lot.

“hey, matt.. i know we are going somewhere, but i can’t remember if you told me where.” i mutter quietly, earning a giggle from matt

“i’d hope i didn’t tell you, it’s a surprise idiot.” he laughs, rubbing his eyes.

i nod, giving him a slap on the leg from his snarky nickname.

at the back of the parking lot there’s a wall, i think it’s the back of a business workplace or something. matt backs into the parking spot, specifically the one where his trunk is about a meter away from the wall.

he sighs nervously before starting “i decided to kind of do something different, i’m kind of surprised you haven’t caught on but.. ya know.”

i nod “okay!” before matt climbs out of the car, i follow and walk round the front of the car towards matt, who’s standing still near the back door.

he takes my hand, and pulls me toward the trunk before opening it, revealing the whole back of the van which is decked out in blankets, pillows and stuffed animals.

my jaw goes slack.

matt’s never been romantic, he says that he’s not into all the ‘cornball shit’, so this coming from him was possibly the last thing i expected.

“is it bad.” matt blurts out, his voice breaks slightly.

i let out a nervous giggle “matt this is so cute, i love it!”

i wrap my arms around him, grinning stupidly into his chest “how the fuck did i not see this in the back.” i tut,

matt picks me up and throws me in the trunk, the stupid amount of cushions breaks my fall

matt crawls in behind me, laying down with one arm out, inviting me to cuddle him, which i do.

i feel my eyes grow heavy while matt scrambles through the pillows beside us, i peel my eyes open to see matt frantically trying to put together a projector.

“matt?” i whisper, my voice hoarse, his head instantly snaps back to me with a guilty expression.

before he can speak the projector turns on, projecting matt’s phone screen onto the wall right in front of us from outside the trunk of the car.

“oh my god.” i laugh in disbelief, i look up at matt who has a proud look on his face.

i sit up and peck kisses all over his face “you’re so stupid” matt shakes his head with a grin painted across his mouth.

“i downloaded netflix for this..” matt whispers, earning another round of kisses from me.

“you can choose sweetheart.” matt says handing me his phone, i scroll through various movies before landing on one.

scream 2.

“horror in an abandoned parking lot!” matt gasps dramatically, “shut up its a good movie, still not sure how you haven’t watched it.” i joke back, pressing play.

the start of the movie is slow and boring, matt’s just been rubbing my thigh lovingly for the past few minutes, i don’t know what it’s doing to me but it’s got me extremely worked up.

suddenly i shut off the movie, before straddling matt. i don’t know how, but abrubtly i’m desperate for his hands some place else. “oh?” he clears his throat.

i toy with the button of his jeans “matt..” i whine quietly, locking eyes with him. “you alright gorgeous?” he croaks.

“i want your hands..” i whisper, my cheeks flushing.

“can i ask where this came from?” matt says, trying to keep his composure. “your hands on my thighs.. i need them further up.” i blurt out before slamming a hand over my mouth.

“mhm?” he replies, grabbing my ass and lifting me off him, next to his side.

“do you want me to take us home then?” matt questions, sitting up.

“what no?”

“baby i can’t make you feel good here, you know that.” he says “yes you can matt?” i snap back, the attitude in my voice peaking through

he looks at me with a disappointed dad look, “we’re in public last time i checked.”

“can i be honest matthew..” i say, my voice slow as i break eye contact. he nods , grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “anything.”

“i’m physically hurting from how badly i need you, so for the love of god don’t take me home because i am too inpatient for that, okay?”

matt’s eyes widen “gotcha.” he says, his voice cracks.

without another word i lie back, spreading my legs as far as they possibly can go.

“god, your needy today aren’t you?” he coos, positioning himself over me. matt plants a desperate kiss on my lips while one of his hands grip my inner thigh.

“gonna have to get these off, hm?” matt says, pulling down my jeans to my ankles, then yanking them off. the cold air night hits my warm skin, the only light in the back of the van is the few fairy lights matt put up.

matt grabs the back of my head gently, and lays me down flat on the mountain pillow

“comfy?”

i nod, matt looms over me, letting one hand rest between my legs, keeping direct eye contact with me the whole time.

this is the first time in a few weeks matt and i have got so intimate, i’ve been dangerously tired from work, and matt’s been working on the 6 mil video with nick and chris, leaving us little time to see each other.

a light scoff escapes from matt’s mouth, “wet for me all down your thighs.” he mutters, moving his hand up to rest on my clothed clit. i groan, the everlasting heat between my legs isn’t being helped.

i buck my hips up into matt’s hand, shutting my eyes for a brief moment. he takes his time to apply pressure, wanting to savour every moment of this.

i let out a shaky breath which hits matt’s neck, “more.” is the only word i can form through my horny state.

“mhm? you really want more?”

i bop my head up and down frantically, matt pushes my panties to the side and runs one long finger through my folds, brushing my bud temporarily .

a desperate whimper exits my throat, my hands lay flat on my stomach, pressing lightly. matt stares into my squinted eyes as he slides his index and middle finger into me.

“fuck.. thank you-..” i groan out, matt laughs

“thank you?” he says, a stupid grin on his face again. “sorry..” i mutter, a small smirk on my face revealing.

matt presses a peck to the tip of my nose before thrusting his fingers in and out of me,

“you feel so good around my fingers, gonna feel this good around my cock too yeah?”

just with that sentence i clench around matt’s fingers, releasing around them. matt’s mouth gapes a small amount. “sorry..” i breath out, i think that’s a new record for fastest time to cum ever.

“don’t say sorry, that was kind of impressive.” matt laughs, sliding his fingers out of me. he wipes them on the pillow beside us, ‘not wanting to make a mess’ is what he says each time.

i reach for matt’s jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down, i palm him through his boxers as i sit upright. matt stays quiet as he flips me over onto all fours “ready?” he says, kneeling behind me.

i look over my shoulder, matt somehow looks so innocent even though he’s about to fuck me dumb. “yeah.. please.”

he runs his tip over my slit a few times before sliding in, inch by inch.

“sweetheart?” i hear matt say softly from behind me, “mm?” i hum, “can you arch a little more for me gorgeous girl?” he says, resting a hand on my lower back and pressing lightly. i comply, arching my back as much as it can.

“good girl.” he whispers, his tip kissing my cervix.

he starts to thrust in and out, a string of moans exit my mouth as i bury my face in one of the pillows.

he grips my waist tight, i wouldn’t be surprised if there’s gonna be marks tomorrow.

“god you feel so fucking good.” matt praises, his thrusts growing faster and faster each time.

i hum in response, my mind has gone foggy.

a familiar knot forms in my stomach, i can feel myself reaching my second orgasm tonight. “your clenching, gonna come for me again?” matt says in between thrusts.

and with a squeal of matt’s name the knot in my stomach snaps.

matt pulls out with a slick sound before painting my back with white streaks. “shit shit shit..” matt curses, grabbing a blanket and wiping me down.

“you okay?” he asks, flopping down into the pile of pillows, i follow flopping down on his chest.

“more than okay..” i mumble into his neck.

————-

(a month later)

the sound of music fills my car as i drive over to matt’s house, today is our 6 month anniversary and we’ve planned a movie night at his home.

i pull into his driveway, i grab my phone and dash up to his front door, locking my car behind me.

i swing the door open, matt’s standing in the kitchen on his phone. “matt!!” i squeal, running up to hug him. “happy 6 month anniversary!” he says, smothering me with kisses.

he picks me up by my ass and takes us over to his living room, it’s dimly lit by the tv. he throws me down on the couch which is covered in various blankets and pillows.

i look over at the tv and my jaw drops with a laugh.

scream 2

“i mean we didn’t get to watch it last month!” matt shrugs, pulling me towards him on the couch.

it’s not even been 3 minutes and i’m being pounded into by matt, i think this is going to become a new tradition.

try to finish the scream movie without fucking in the first 10 minutes.

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#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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never2tired4u · 6 months

Text

OBEY ME! Dateables x Reader

One night, out of nowhere, you started to feel an ache all over your little sheep body. It got worse and worse and you were just about to call for help, until your vision got surrendered by smoke! Once you opened your eyes again you… were turned back into your human form!

Characters: 《°•[ Solomon , Simeon , Diavolo , Barbatos...]•°》

Summary: 《°•[ Sheep MC turns back into human... ]•°》

Warnings: 《°•[ Simeon , Barbatos' part contains suggestive themes...Also Simeon's part contain a spoiler from lesson 76, sorry to anyone who got spoiled 😭]•°》

“Oh no.”

“What do you mean ‘Oh no’?” you grumbled, crossing your arms as you glared at the shady magician. His face contained a frown, making you confused, “Not happy that I turned back into human?”

“...Are you happy that you turned back into human…?” Now he sounded confused too, “I thought you might be sad considering when you were a sheep no one expected you to walk long distances, cook meals, or clean. And you were always carried by one of the brothers, weren't you?” he sighed, making you realize how much attention he paid to your sheep form. He was right, people let you off the hook more easily when it come to chores. After all, you were small, and had no fingers, but the downside was that you were small and had no fingers.

“Yes, but both forms have their ups and downs… Being a sheep wasn't as fun as you seem to think.”

“Maybe I should turn myself into a sheep?”

“...What?”

“Well, I wouldn't mind being carried by you. I used to love carrying you around, you might like having me in your arms too.” he smiled, you didn't know what to think of his smile though. He doesn't seem to be actually interested in this topic, it was more like he was trying to hide something.

And yes, Solomon actually IS trying to hide something, nothing important, really. Just his jealousy. Like usual.

He noticed how people's eyes lingered on your form more after you turned back into human, and they always had this weird mesmerized look in their eyes whenever you walked by which made him furious. Only he is allowed to look at you that way. So maybe if he became a sheep and made you carry him around he could scare your new suitors? Played little harmless pranks on them?

“Solomon, please.” your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “You are fine the way you are. And I was…really looking forward to the day we could walk hand in hand.”

…

Ah. He is sure he had the same mesmerized look on his face he was talking about.

Your warm hand enveloped his as he blindly followed you, not really caring where you are taking him, “I'm sure your sheep form would be very cute though.” you said with a smile which made him chuckle.

“Haha, yes, I think so too.” he looked at you with a faux innocence, “maybe we can both turn into sheeps and run to the horizon hoof in hoof?”

“Solomon.”

(*** suggestive)

Simeon was sitting on the sofa in the Cocytus hall and browsing through his phone, more used to the technology now. However the calm atmosphere surrendering him disappeared when a sudden weight on his shoulder made him jump a little. He turned his head to see what it was to only find you resting your head on him.

You hummed, not looking sorry for scaring him at all, “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“Ah.” right, you weren't a cute little sheep anymore. You were in your human form, able to reach places, like his shoulders, “I forgot that you can reach my shoulders now.” he chuckled.

You joined in his laughter then let out a fake angry huff, “You better get used to it.”

Simeon looked at you, unfortunately, he was only able to see a little bit of your face since your hair was in the way. It was a little upsetting that he couldn't see it fully but your hair tickling his jaw made his sadness quickly disappear. He sighed happily as he placed a hand on top of your head, “Then, perhaps you should spend more time with me to help me adjust quickly.”

“...So~ does that mean you prefer human me?” you said with a smirk as you looked up at him.

“Hmm…I have to say, as a sheep you were very cute.” he mumbled innocently, but the teasing smile on his face said otherwise. However, it quickly became wobbly as soon as he saw your frown, “Of course, you are cute like this too.” he quickly added.

“I see…Not ‘very’ cute though, huh.”

“H-huh?”

He tried to meet your gaze as you stared at the floor, seemingly in deep thought. He hoped he didn't make you angry. Simeon opened his mouth to apologize only to find himself suddenly lying on his back. A shocked expression appeared on his face, and his cheeks warmed up as soon as your face came into view.

You got on top of him, body creating a shadow over him. How fitting, considering you do really bring dark thoughts in his mind.

“Shall I give you different reasons to love this body, Simeon?” you said, voice calm maybe a little playful, it was nothing to be afraid of but for Simeon you were really intimidating at this moment. Even if he wasn't an angel anymore he still felt like he was about to get corrupted by you -again-. Which seems to make him embarrassingly more excited.

“Yes… Please do.” he could only whisper, not really thinking straight. He shut his eyes and waited for you to do whatever you please with him.

Once you turned human the very first thing Diavolo did was laugh happily and offer you lots of, I mean, LOT OF clothes. Rambling to himself and not hearing your protests as he went around the shops to get even more, “Maybe this dress? Oh! This suit is made with such fine fabric too! And these shoes would go nicely with them! What do you think of these accessories- actually. We'll just take them all, please put it in the basket!” he chuckled.

“Diavolo, where would I even wear those?” you let out a tired sigh as you walked behind him, starting to miss your sheep form with how much walking you had to do. If you were a sheep, you could've just made him carry you in his arms…Now that you think about it, it's been a while since he… showed his affection physically. He was acting more like a sugar daddy instead. It's been so long since he hugged you that you were actually starting to miss his crushing hugs.

“Can you try these for me?” he turned around to give you the bags, inside of it was probably the clothes he was talking about, “I promise these are the last ones.” he said, sounding apologetic, probably noticing how tired you seemed. You just nodded and went into the cabin. Once you were done, you stepped out. Only to be greeted by Diavolo's sparkling eyes and huge smile, “Just as I thought, it looks great on you!”

You were kind of getting nervous at this point, he was really starting to act like...a stranger, “Uhm, you think so?”

“Yes, it can stay on you if you want. Let me just go and pay-”

“Diavolo, why are you trying to dress me up?” you decided to finally question him, at first it was a nice way to spend time with him, no matter how tired shopping was actually getting, but now…

“Do you think…I look ugly? Is that why you are dressing me up in expensive clothes…?”

“What?!” you have never seen Diavolo look this horrified, “Of course not- I- No, that's… Did I seem like that?” he sighed, “Love…I apologize deeply. I was just really excited. After seeing your human form I just couldn't help but imagine how you would look like in different clothes, but there are just objects to make your beauty shine more, nothing else.” his warm hands grabbed yours, giving them a little squeezed as he gazed into your eyes.

You were starting to feel a little bit okay, but still wanted to tease him as a punishment. So you crossed your arms and huffed, “And you've been acting a lot distant too! Everytime I try to hug you you are running off to somewhere, very rude!"

He chuckled when he noticed how you were playfully scolding him, “Oh dear. I didn't even notice. Looks like seeing you like this, really did make me…” he suddenly stopped, eyes locked into yours as his cheeks slowly darkened. Diavolo turns his head, “As I was saying…” he mumbled, voice shaky, “I'll be sure to act more carefully.”

“That isn't what I want…” you sighed, frowning. Seems like the future king is still unable to understand your requests, “I don't want you to act more carefully, I want you to act like my lover.”

“Oh!”

“Now, give me a hug?”

“Of course!”

(*** suggestive)

Barbatos is someone who prefers to stand back and observe people, hence why you didn't see him much after you turned. Only after everyone had their moment and talk with you did he come to you, and even then it still a very short interaction. He smiled and said, “I'm happy for you.” with his usual charming smile on his face when… talking to people. However, you were hoping for more from him. Especially with something like your outer appearance. You wanted to see him become surprised with your appearance or something, like those cheesy cliché scenes in romance movies.

“Reality can be really disappointing…” you mumbled as you watched Barbatos cook dinner.

“Hm? Where is this coming from? You sounded a lot like Leviathan just now.” he didn't turn around, continuing to stir the pot.

“Barbatos, do you ever get surprised or embarrassed?” you asked without thinking, but guessed it would be fine since he won't understand what you are talking about anyway. Just a random question. Yeah. Nothing weird about that.

“I do, of course.” he put away the spoon, finally turning to you, “I do get…Surprised. From lot of things.”

“Really? That's hard to believe…” you muttered to yourself, “Like what?”

“You.” he smiled.

“Me??” you almost fell from your chair, maybe your appearance really did affect him but he was good at hiding? “Uhm… Why?”

Barbatos tipped his head to the side as he closed his eyes and smirked, “Just the way you act. Your personality. And how you overcome difficulties.” the way he said it seemed so…polite and kind. Which made you weirdly annoyed since you already heard something like this from him. However, you shouldn't get frustrated at him for that...

“I…” you tried not to sigh, “Appreciate it.”

“And how you are seeking my compliments is also very surprising.”

“I- wait, what??”

He chuckled, appearing in front of you in a blink of an eye. Giving you no time to gather yourself, “The brothers, the angels, other demons, and even the Demon Lord... They all complimented you but here you are sulking because I didn't say anything about your human form?” he leaned in closer, taking his gloves off and placing his hands on your cheeks. His sudden warm touch on your cheeks surprising you as he held your face. Without his gloves it was strangely very… Intimate.

The feeling of one of them sliding from your cheek, to your jaw and slowly to your hand to bring it to his lips is even more exciting, “I can't say I dislike it.” he whispers, his breath tickles your skin which causes your whole body to shiver as his piercing eyes look into yours, “If you are curious about what I think maybe I can tell you, or maybe you would like me to show you? Which one would you prefer?”

Ⓒ2O23

#obey me #obey me x reader #solomon x reader #simeon x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #suggestive

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hoesformatt · 5 months

Text

SIT ON IT.

chris smut, ykwtfgo

dom!chris • poc!reader friendly

contains: FAT-ASSED READER, semi-public sex (in a gathering), reversed cowgirl, large gathering (not really party) type setting, pet names, no use of y/n, lots of touching/groping

proofread ✍🏾

word count: 0.9k

No seats on the couch. Big gathering. Rando’s I don’t know. Friends. Matt—occupied, Nick—also occupied, so where’s Chris? I searched for Chris throughout the gathering until my legs were already tired from walking around. I just gave up and went towards the couch again to find a seat again just to see Chris.

I scurried forward as I saw him manspreading across the couch seat. He had eye contact with me, signalling to come closer till I was crouched in-front him.

He lightly grasped my jaw to put his lips on my ear “Where have you been, I’ve looking for you” Real funny, cause I was about to say that.

“Me too, I need to find a chair or a seat ASAP, I’m tired as fuck” He grabbed arm as he looked around the room for an empty place but there was no luck, Chris sat back still holding my arm as he pulled me in even closer. “Sit on my lap”

Bitch what? I was confused, I knew I wasn’t drunk, I barely had one Twisted Tea but I think I was being deceived. “What you say?” I asked.

“Sit on my lap” I wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, Chris is definitely one of my friends that are fine as fuck, I wouldn’t know how to act if I sat on his lap. “I’m cool, it’s okay” I declined his offer.

“Just sit, you’re obviously tired and what’s the problem?” I pace my eyes across the room before I gave in, because I’m not about to tell him ‘Hey Chris I don’t want to sit on your lap cause I lowkey, high key want to jump on your dick.’ No.

I pulled down my mini-skirt which half of my ass was going to fall out of regardless. Sitting down on his left leg, I still refused on sit on his lap, I just wasn’t going to do it “Shit I didn’t realize how big your ass is” He chuckled.

Am I tweaking?

It was kind of uncomfortable and I found myself shifting on his knee often. As I looked back at him and he locked eyes with me “Sit on it” Chris demands. I finally stopped being stubborn and I sat directly on his lap and he adjusted by bucking his hips up towards my ass, feeling Chris under me.

Making sure we were both comfortable I began to move alot more as people brought drinks to the table and I just took a soda then jumping back on his crotch accidentally sitting a little too hard.

A moan escaped his mouth and I realised what I did in that moment. Chris’ hardness grew underneath me, he and I both realised what I did. “Fuck, I asked you sit not to give me a lap dance.”

“I can get off if you need me to”

“And let everyone see that you gave me boner? Why don’t you help me” Chris proposed

I was flattered and horny (the alc) and the way he was whispering in my ear with that low voice of his. I wasn’t going to miss the chance to fuck my crush.

“You wanna get a room?” I turned to face him

“I mean… You could just ride me right here” He shrugged, It was risky but why the fuck not, nobody is going to check us. Chris asked one of his friends to give him one of the smaller blankets that was just hung around the end of the L couch.

Chris put it over us, pulling my skirt up and I held the front of my skirt to lift my ass up from his crotch and hover a little bit so he could take his dick out his pants and so I could move my thong to the side.

I extended my neck back to watch his twitching cock fling out of his jeans. He aimed his dick towards my warm entrance pulling me down to sit completely on his dick. I zipped my mouth shut, struggling to stay quiet around these people, even though everybody in the room was talking and it was extremely loud.

He held my waist hoisting me up onto his cock slowly and not even stopping to look around to see if anyone was watching us.

Chris’ cock is lengthy, I expected it but nothing could’ve prepared me for all it. I was being filled to the brim with him hitting all my right spots.

I spit small whines and whimpers repeatedly struggling to keep quiet, his hands slipped up groping my boobs as I moved at a quicker speed but still not trying to make seem too obvious.

“Fuck— Oh my— Fuck” Chris’ moans are quiet but I hear him because his lips were touching my ear. I slid on his lap, taking everything in my body to stop myself from just stripping off this blanket and bounce on his dick until my pussy go numb.

“Chris— I’m gonna fucking cum” I bounced just a bit as I chased my high, Chris held my hips thrusting up making my ass clap a few times “Shit, you gonna cum with me mama?” I nodded while my ass recoiled for the last few times before his liquids filled me up and he pulled out of me.

“We gotta be alone the next time”

tags: @chrisenthusiast , @miguelsangel , @lunariaxzz ,@thesturniolos , @angelic-sturniolos111 , @littlebookworm803 , @79sturniolo , @alinaa131 , @sturniolopowers @mattslolita @luv4kozume @sturniofilmd @sturniolooooo @urmom2fresh @chrissturniolosbitch

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo #smut #fics #fan fiction #fan fic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #hoesformatt #riyahspeaks

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milksuu · 8 months

Text

Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel

Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader

Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)

Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language

Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”

Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.

[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]

“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”

“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers.

“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”

You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors.

“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”

“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”

You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.

YONE

RIOT RECORDS

DJ / PRODUCER

EMAIL: [email protected]

TELEPHONE: XXX-XXX-XXXX

“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”

“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:

‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’

The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:

‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’

“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.”

“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.”

You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.

“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”

Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place.

“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”

You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”

“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.”

“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”

Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"

Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.

“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.”

The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.

The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.

Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest.

But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.

Penis (en)counter: 1

While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute.

“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.”

“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.

With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.

“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”

“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.

The image would be forever burned in your mind.

You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.

Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.

But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn.

“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”

There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.

‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’

“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”

Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps.

‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’

“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”

Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.

When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness.

At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”

“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”

“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”

As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.

These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.

“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.”

With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”

Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.

Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool.

“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too.

Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.

He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.”

Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.

Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”

W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.

A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.

Penis (en)counter: 2

“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”

Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.

Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.

What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.

Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”

Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”

Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.

You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:

‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’

With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.

He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”

The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite.

“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.

Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”

As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.

“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.”

Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.

an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. <3

#heartsteel #league of legends #Heartsteel x reader #kayn x reader #ezreal x reader #aphelios x reader #Sett x reader #K'Sante x reader #Yone x reader #reader insert #league of legends fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #divider by @benkeibear

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housecow · 25 days

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i have knee problems stemming from an injury when i was younger. if i step wrong and fall in a certain way, the pain is so bad i can’t walk. but sometimes i like to fantasize: what if something even worse happens and i can’t walk for weeks? what if i happen to be in regular close contact with my feeder?

it’d be hard being told i have rest and let myself heal. there are plans coming up that have to be cancelled, the few active hobbies i have left take a hit. but…it’s so easy to accept every snack brought to me. after all, i sought out a feeder—this lifestyle is the one i’ve eaten myself towards. and he knows i have an inclination towards eating too much. that first week goes easier than it should; weight starts to pile on. but i miss going out, even running errands sounds nice. in the few moments my hands are absent of food or a shake i am regularly in contact with my friends.

the next week i’m better but… i feel slow. my feeder has started to keep people away because i need to rest and he’s right, healing is taxing on the body. i start responding less to others, too. our funnel has gotten so much more use in the last few days. the sugar and constant snacks step up and i can tell there is an agenda behind it all but *god* it feels good to be doted on. he helps me through the necessary exercises but trips across the house are rare. i notice how difficult it is to lift myself up now—how sedentary have i been?

that question doesn’t cross my mind again, there are better things to focus on. my feeder knows how to use my adhd to his advantage—food, sex, TV, and games all provide the dopamine hit needed to keep me distracted. the 3rd week is similar enough to the 2nd: ritualistic feeding becomes the norm. we don’t need a valve to control the flow on the funnel anymore, he knows i can finish everything. my belly is swollen out into my lap all of the time now, if i hold my boobs aside i can see new stretch marks creeping across my expanding hips. i expect the snacks, “babe, can you grab me something from the fridge?” is a phrase heard several times in the day. and my feeder obliges.

the 4th week we have an appointment and im told i should walk and start being active again. the doctor looks nervous though and tells me i need to watch my weight, he says something like “its alarming how quickly this happened,” but i blocked it out because—i can’t even see how much i weigh? my belly blocks the view now. oh my god.

in the car afterwards my feeder expresses doubt at the situation: “you don’t look so steady on your feet, i think you should still take it easy.” his eyes meet mine and i don’t miss the brief glance away, desire obvious at the sight of my rounded figure that’s entirely his fault. i know what he wants and i can’t deny myself that want, either. and he knows better in these situations, i trust his judgement. maybe it is best to stay in. plans can be pushed further back… the walk back to the car was a little difficult, too.

the next weeks—or does it span months?—pass in a blur. staying in is all i want to do. although i’m supposedly healthy again, i rarely get up and walk around more than needed. “needed” means a slow, clumsy walk to the fridge and back to either the couch or the bed. when my feeder is not there to feed me himself he takes time to order food to the door. bending down to pick things up is a monumental effort for me—a heavy, wide belly pressing into my fattened thighs. my swollen tits obscure my vision but serve as an excellent table when i need.

my feeder comes home one day and im asleep, taking up more than my fair share of the couch. my breaths are not easy and its obvious how much i ate beforehand: mostly-empty 2 liters, takeout containers haphazardly stacked on top of one another as they were finished, countless snack packages balled up and stuck between the couch cushions because sometimes i like to squirrel stuff away. as if there was a chance of hiding these habits my feeder built.

but the best part of it all is the empty pitcher sat against the corner of the couch, because i couldn’t reach to the coffee table to properly set it down with so much fat making every movement difficult.

the remnants a weight gain shake. our usual ingredients of cake mix, melted ice cream, strawberries, chocolate syrup, nutella, crushed oreos. it was hastily made, however, and it’s obvious by the chocolatey powder on the sides of the container that it was about the calories this time, not the taste. he can see where some escaped the pitcher and poured down my overly plump, round face and past the lovingly cultivated double chin. it dripped onto my breasts, lovely puddles of calories he wish made it inside of me even if the sight is wonderful. after that thought, an idea comes up. how deep are the rolls he’s gifted me? a cow this size needs to be used.

#feedism.#feeder/feedee #feedee.#hucow.#writing #is this too much 🫣#i wrote this late last night after overeating :3 #formatting may be edited later #it was written with big chunky paragraphs but i find that hard to read #it may read choppily bc of how i split it though :((

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mattyriddlesbitch · 2 months

Note

could you please do one where theo nott boasts about his hickeys from us to his mates and then we hear him and drag him upstairs and he goes all subby :)) btw love ur posts!!!

I would dieeee if you wrote about a needy Theo who is eating the reader out and he enjoys it so much he finishes without even being touched. I love when he’s subby

I combined these two asks, so I hope you guys like it!

Liar

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, oral(female receiving), shoe humping

18+ Minors DNI!

You had just entered the Slytherin common room when you heard Theo’s friend teasing him about the hickeys, but instead of getting flustered, he bragged about it.

“Yeah, I made my girl feel so good, she couldn’t contain herself. Needed to leave her mark.” Theo said with a smug smile.

That’s not what you recall, though. You recall teasing him by kissing and biting his neck until he begged to fuck you.

So you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around him sweetly. “Oh, I don’t think it went that way.”

Theo looked at you with wide eyes, surprised you were there and that you were about to call him out. “Ah, doesn’t matter.” He tried waving off your statement dismissively.

“It doesn’t? But you’re bragging about it, love. It apparently does.” You smile at him.

His friends were laughing. “Stop.” He whispered to you.

“Upstairs. Now.” You whispered back to him and he didn’t even hesitate before letting you pull him to his dorm.

You closed the door and crossed your arms. “So, you think it’s okay to lie about me now?”

“You know how the guys are.” He tried shrugging it off.

“Do I need to remind you of last night? Of how I had you begging?”

He swallowed, his eyes looking down. “I could use a reminder.”

You rolled your eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You want me to make you feel good after what you just pulled?”

“I’m sorry, cara mia.” He said, kneeling in front of you.

“Doesn’t sound sincere.” You tsked.

“Please, bella, I’m sorry, I won’t lie again.” He started rubbing at your thighs.

“If you want me to make you feel good, beg.”

“Please, please, make me feel good, principessa.”

“You can use my shoe. I’m not doing any work after what you pulled.” You said, leaning back on your hands.

His eyes widened, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Go on. Give yourself some relief.” You tilted your head expectantly.

He looked humiliated but moved to rub himself against the toe of your shoe, whimpering at the contact.

“Needy boy, willing to get yourself off with just my shoe. If only your friends knew.” You say mockingly.

“Please let me fuck you, cara mia. I’ll do everything. Make you feel good.” He begged, a moan escaping his lips as he kept humping your shoe.

“I don’t know. Gonna make me feel so good, I can’t contain myself?” You asked, using his words against him.

“I’ll make you feel so good, please.” He said, pressing kisses to your thigh.

“You can eat me out.” You said, spreading your legs for him. “But you can’t touch yourself.”

“Deal.” He said, wasting no time in nearly tearing off your panties. He buried his face between your thighs, licking at your cunt eagerly as he wrapped his arms around your thighs.

“Fuck. That desperate, baby?” You teased, tangling a hand in his hair.

He just moaned into you.

“You’re so fucking good at this, Theo. You like pleasing me?” You asked, tugging his hair gently and he looked up at you.

“Fucking love it.” He replied quickly before going back to licking at your clit.

“Better use of your mouth than lying about me, right?” You smiled at him and he nodded, sucking at your clit.

He kept licking and sucking, desperately trying to get you off, his own moans and groans nearly overpowering yours. You came with a cry of his name and some curses, body trembling as he helped ride it out. He pulled back and pressed kisses to your thighs to help calm you.

“Fuck. You still want me to make you feel good, baby?” You asked, cupping his cheek.

“No need.” He said, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously.

“I might’ve…already…” He looked down and you followed his eyes.

“Oh.” You said once you saw the wet patch on his pants. “Just from giving me head?” You smiled.

“Yes?” He answered but in more of a question.

“I love the power I have over you.”

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred

Let me know if you wanna be added!

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #thedore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader smut #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader

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mochinek0 · 5 months

Text

In Sickness and in Health

"Damian, I need you to work with the new student on this project." his history teacher stated.

"What new student?" the young Wayne questioned.

'There's no one new here. Has he finally lost it?'

"Stay after class, please." they replied.

Damian simply nodded.

'At least if the new person is all in his head, I can work by myself.'

"The new student isn't here today as she's sick. They're also a transfer student." The teacher spoke, "Here is her address."

"You want me to go there and become ill?" Damian speculated.

"Not at all, Mr. Wayne. All I am asking is that you, at least, speak to her about the project." the teacher sighed, "She'll know better than anyone how long she'll be absent. Get her to write a note saying, I don't know, she gives you full control on the project or something. I'll deal with it from there."

"I can do that." Damian accepted.

'At least I can still work by myself.'

Damian looked down at the address in his hand an then back at the seamstress shop. Confused, the young Wayne entered the store and looked around for someone his own age.

"Can I help you?" asked an elderly lady.

"I was given this address for a classmate of mine." Damian explained, "I believe they mixed it up. Excuse me."

"Are you looking for Marinette?" they questioned.

'Marinette? Is that her name? Not American; he did mention they were a transfer student.'

"Yes." he answered, still unsure.

"Go through the blue curtain in the far back." the lady smiled, "There's a set of stairs that will take you to the apartment above the store."

Damian nodded and went to the back of the store. There was blue cloth hung up on a shower rod that parted slightly.

'A door would be better suited.'

Damian walked up the stairs to the second story and found single door. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. The door opened and he was shocked. There in the doorway was a girl with blue hair, up to his chest. She was wearing what seemed to be pajamas, had a blanket draped over her shoulders, a face mask, and a cooling cloth attached to her forehead.

'She is obviously seriously ill. How did she open the door? Why didn’t anyone else open it for her?'

"Who are you?" she questioned, hoarsely.

"Damian Wayne." he declared, "I was told to talk to you about a history project for school."

She moved away from the door and went stright to the kitchen.

"Sit anywhere you want. I haven't sat in the living room in three days. I'd offer you a beverage, but I don't want to get you sick and asking you to get it yourself, seems rude." the girl spoke.

'Polite; unexpected.'

"What are you doing?" Damian questioned, as he watched her stir a pot.

"Making soup for the week." Marinette answered.

"So, I should not expect you to return this week." he suggested.

"I usually eat soup when I'm sick and for the following days, to keep my immune system cleansed." she explained, "So, history? Leave me the details and I'll work on it."

"Mr. Hayes suggested you could write a note putting me in charge." Damian spoke.

"I can work, Damian." Mari remarked, "I don't need you coddling me because I'm sick."

'Coddle! I-The last thing I would do is….coddle her!'

Damian snapped, "I am giving you a way out! Get your rest and I will do it completely!"

"I'm on bedrest and as you can see, I'm functional." she growled back.

Marinette began to cough heavidly, enough to make her grip the kitchen counter. Damian watched as her breaths became labored, as if she had trouble inhaling.

'She calls this functional?'

Marinette grabbed a mug and poured hot water from a near by kettle. Damian watched as she spooned a small amount of tea leaves into a container and place it in the mug.

'Peppermint? She should try lemon, ginger, something citrus.'

"When are your parents getting back?" Damian asked, not moving from the doorway.

"I'm emancipated." she smiled.

'She's by herself?'

Damian looked around and noticed a small table with one chair. The living room had enough to seat up to three guests. There was also one door to the left, behind the living room.

"Leave the form and an email or something so I can send you my portion." Marinette called out, "If you don't like it, I can work in my room and you can work from out here."

Damian took out a pen and quickly wrote down his email at the top of the paper.

"I'll be back, tomorrow." he stated, leaving the apartment.

'Why is she so stubborn? She needs to rest. The simplest solution would be for her to rest this week while I work alone. What is she trying to accomplish?'

The moment she opened the door, Damian stared at Marinette annoyed. She had showed recently, but her hair was still wet. At the very least, she was wearing different clothes.

He scowled, "Where is the bathroom?"

"Oh, in my room, on your left." Marinette pointed out.

'Guess he really needed to go.'

Damian came back with a towel and threw it over her head, without notice. He quickly began to rub her head to get the moisture out.

"You're going to get worse with you hair looking like a wet mop." Damian stated, "Dry it completely."

Marinette remained silent and still. Damian stopped his movements.

"Marinette?" he asked, moving to face her.

'Shit!'

Marinette's eyes were wide and she was practially hyperventilating. She was clenching and unclenching her hands.

'She does not handle physical contact well. Is she going to be okay at school?'

Damian kneeled in front of her and showed his hands were raised in front of him.

"My apologies." Damian whispered, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Damian reached out and dragged his bag, next to the couch. He pulled out a small cylinder.

"I brought you some tea leaves. Citrus help you recover from illness." he began, "I don't believe peppermint will work." as he handed her the container.

Marinette took it and looked at it. She opened it and sniffed the tea leaves. There was lemon, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. There was some other stuff she couldn't make out.

"You......made this?" Marinette questioned.

'Why would he give this to me?'

Damian remained silent, but nodded. He didn't think she would noticed he took his time to make her something.

"I make my own teas." he replied.

Mari smiled, "Thank you."

Damian watched as her expression softened. She got up from her seat, letting the towel fall from her head, and quickly began to get things ready to brew the tea. Once it was finished brewing, she took a sip.

"It’s delicious, Damian!" Mari smiled, happily, "Maybe I should go to you for all of my teas."

Before he could respond, Marinette took her tea and went into her room. Damian picked up his things and saw she had gotten comfortable in her bed with her laptop on a tray.

"Were we not working over there?" he questioned.

"I don't want to get you sick." Marinette replied, "Besides, there's only one chair. I'll just email you-"

Damian left the room and returned with the chair from her kitchen table.

"I don't get sick, easily." Damian declared, setting the chair down a few feet from her bed, "h quicker we finish this, the more you can rest."

Marinette worked silently, sipping on the tea Damian had brought her. After an hour, Damian packed up his thing, declaring he'd return the next day.

This time, when Marinette opened the door, he could tell she was moving much more sluggish.

'She got worse! She's pushing herself for me. Damn her stubbornness!'

Damian quickly picked her up in his arms.

"You're-" she began.

"If I get sick, I will blame you later." Damian claimed.

"Sorry." Mari whispered.

Damian placed her back in her bed. He quickly rushed to the bathroom in search of a first aid kit or at least, a thermometer. Once he found it, he brought it back and held it out. Mairnette looked at it, in dissapointment.

"Use it." he demanded.

Marinette shoved it in her mouth and waited. The quick beeping notified them both something was wrong. Mari took it out of her mouth n tried to hide it. Damian was able to grab it with ease.

'102.5'

"I'm fine." Marinette declared.

"You are far from fine." Damian stated.

Damian took the thermometer to the bathroom and washed it, as well as his hands. When he returned, he found Marinette fast asleep. He found a cooling pad near by and placed it on her head. Damian remember a small cloth by the sink and wet it. He quickly cooled off her arms, her neck, and her legs, before covering her up. Damian took out a sticky note and wrote down his number.

Marinette woke up to the room being dark.

"Damian?" she called out.

She grabbed her phone and saw it was close to two in the morning. She set her phone down and felt a paper.

'Sticky note?'

She turned on the flashlight on her phone and looked at the note: Call me if you worsen-Damian.

'Aw. He's really sweet. I feel so bad for falling asleep on him.'

Marinette stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet and took her temperature. It read 99.2; it was the best it had been all week. She washed the thermometer and took some medicine. After, she made more of Damian's tea.

'Gonna need it.'

Damian arrived back from patrol to find an email from Mari.

'I thought I told her to call me if she got worse, not email me!'

He opened it in a panic and found it was her completed work for the assignment. Damian looked at the time. It was now three in the morning and she had sent it thirty minutes ago. He grabbed his phone and opened his contacts. Then, he froze.

'I don’t have her number! Fuck!'

Damian went over the next day and was surprised to see her more active. Marinette had answered the door happily and was dressed in white tank top, pink shorts, and slippers. She wasn't even using a blanket to keep herself warm.

"Damian!" She smiled, "Hey, did you get my email?"

"I did." he answered.

"Is everything okay?" Mari asked, "I didn't think I'd see you today."

"Why did you send it so late or early, I should say." Damain questioned.

"It was when I woke up." Marinette answered, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I decided it was best to work on it, while I had a clear head. I'm feeling a lot better, so I should be able to see you at school tomorrow. I'm sure it was all thanks to your tea."

Damian nodded and held out his phone for her to grab. Marinette looked at it confused, but took it.

"I planned on yelling at you, for being up so late, but I didn't have you number." the young Wayne stated.

Marinette giggled, "And I should give it to you, why?"

Damian remained silent. He didn't think she would refuse to give her number to him.

"In case we are paired up again." he quickly spoke.

Mari added her contact information and handed it back.

"Sick Girl?" he questioned.

"So you know it's me." Mari answered.

He hated how right she was. It was likely that if she had entered her name, he would have forgotten it in a week and deleted it.

"Do you want to come in or was that all?" she asked.

"That was all." he said and quickly left.

Marinette closed the door an giggled.

'He's like a stray cat that came to say hi.'

Damian sat in class and kept his eyes on the door. Marinette hadn't walked in, yet, and it was almost time for the bell to ring.

'Is she still sick? Did her fever come back? I should have called her this morning to make sure she was feeling fine.'

The bell rang breaking him from his thoughts and then, she rushed in.

'Marinette.'

"Late." their teacher declared, "I will forgive you, this time, since you have been sick, Miss Duapin-Cheng."

Marinette nodded her head. It was finally time for history class and it was so different to see her in uniform. Damian could admit he more use to seeing her in pajamas or shorts, with her blanket curled around her. He was even use to her falling asleep, but some how the uniform felt less personal. He hated it. Damian watched carefully over Marinette. He had to make sure she was completely better. Her damn stubbornness left him worried about her pretending to feel better for his sake. Then, he saw it; the tense smile on her face. She was surrounded by their peers. It reminded him of the smiles his brothers' gave at parties. Damian walked over and grabbed her wrist.

"We need to talk about the project since you have been absent." he declared.

"Oh, okay." Marinette answered, as he pulled her away from everyone else.

"He could have been nicer."

"It's Wayne. When is he ever nice?"

"Lucky bitch."

"I can’t believe she was his partner."

"He probably did it himself, already."

"Yeah. He's just gonna give her a copy and put her name on it."

"I can’t believe he touched her."

"True."

"Better than him yelling at us to move or scram, again."

Marinette frowned as she heard what they said about Damian. That wasn't the Damian she knew.

"Thank you." Marinette whispered, once they were far enough.

Damian looked at her questioningly.

"For rescuing me." she answered.

"You appeared uncomfortable." the young Wayne spoke, " I was uncertain how you would react if one of them touched you. I understand if I made you uncomfortable, as well. My apologies for forcing you. Next time, tell them to leave."

"I'm not good at dealing with people; not anymore." Mari declared, "Besides, they should forget about me soon. I'm still 'new' in their eyes. I'm not trying to gain anything by talking to them. I don’t want to get to know them."

"I thought you weren't coming." Damian spoke, changing the subject.

"Huh?" she asked, confused, "I told you I was coming today."

"You were late." he growled.

"Oh." Marinette winced, "Uh….I have a feeling I will be in detention a lot."

Damian stopped and turned to her, waiting for an explanation.

"I have always been late to school, even when it was across from my house." she stated.

Damian sighed, "I'll pick you up in the mornings."

"No!" she cried out.

"Why?" he demanded, "Is that an issue? I have been to your place before, have I not?"

"I'm not a morning person." Mari replied, looking down.

He sighed again, "My brother isn't either, unless he has had coffee. I can bring you some." making a mental note to steal Tim's coffee in the morning from now on.

"Really?" Mari questioned, perking up.

"You better, at least, be dressed." Damian retorted.

"Pajamas count as being dressed, right?" she squeaked.

Damian glared at her, "Why would you still be in pajamas?"

"I'm not a morning person!" Marinette glared back, "I work late and-"

"The shop keeps you that busy?" he questioned.

"Oh." Marinette spoke, "No. I help in the shop sometimes, but that's not my job. I do commissions. She asks me to help some times, but she's going to let me use the sewing machine for free until I can buy one."

"How….long do your commissions take?" he sighed.

"Depends who it's for. If it's for my uncle, I tend to work three weeks straight. It also depends on the pay and timeline. If he called me right now and asked for something in six months, I wouldn't worry unless things began to pile up. It could also be one of my aunties."

'What the fuck is with her family? No wonder why she is emancipated! I can't believe they would work her that hard.'

"You're moving into the manor." Damian declared, "I'll even get you a new sewing machine."

"I am not!" she cried out, "I barely know you! All I know is you name and you make tea!"

"At this rate, I'll have to get you dressed and drag you to school!" Damian cried back.

"Who the fuck made you my babysitter?" Marinette shouted.

"Someone should be." he huffed, "You obviously need someone to take care of you. I don’t see why it shouldn't be me!"

Marinette squeaked and turned red. Realizing what he said, so did Damian.

The teacher watched as Damian took Marinette aside to talk. He was well aware that their assignment had been turned in three days ago. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was the closest he had ever seen Damian be comfortable around anyone. He also was aware of Marinette's past school and being bullied.

'I knew getting them to talk would be a good thing.'

DAMINETTE TAGLIST: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb

TAGLIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog

#daminette #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marinette in gotham #bullied marinette #emancipated marinette #sick marinette #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #history project #matchmaking teacher #maribat #damian worried #grumpy damian #mochinek0

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glotoru · 1 year

Text

i’m your national anthem | eren jaeger

the note ☆ this is part two of my lana coded!eren ‘series’, see part one here. once again my soft spoken and older eren (drooling) spoiling his lovely little wife with everything he can but this time it’s at his place of work after she pays him a visit. it’s not as “cinematic” as the first part but i like this one a lot and it’s a birthday gift for myself lmao. inspired by national anthem (demo), lana del rey.

contains ☆ nsfw, fem!reader, stupidlyrich!eren, soft husband!eren, established relationship, semi-public sex (there are cameras), office sex, eren in a yummy suit, lotta praise, oral (m. receiving), handjobs, facefucking, vaginal, sex on a desk, backshots, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, panty stealing (kind of), possessive eren, he likes you in a sundress, use of pet names. black reader as always but it’s all subjective so read if you like it my loves <3

wc ☆ 4k words (it was meant to be much shorter lmao)

eren jaeger is a successful man.

many would even stretch out as to say that he's almost won in life. he's made it on the forbes list, attended every exclusive gathering to be thrown in society, racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars in his chequing account; he's a well deserved ceo—not from start up connections, not from nepotism—eren jaeger has worked his way to the top from down below. and while he's considered to have everything a mortal man could ever dream of, eren believes his true fortune lies within you.

"mr. jaeger?" a timid voice calls from the entryway to the conference room, where a suit clad eren stands at the table's apex, which holds a stack of printed papers, with two other shareholders seated at the sides listening in on his presentation.

another thing about eren is that he likes rules—he has rules. there are rules employees know not to break; no bribes, no in house disputes, and certainly no entering his boardroom when having a meeting with his shareholders without his request. so when one of his brightest interns shifts uncomfortably under his gaze with a look of fear morphing his facial features, eren knows he’s been asked to do so by someone with more power than even him.

"i take it that my wife is here?" eren breathes, mindlessly running a hand through messy growing hair but still refusing to acknowledge the fact that you came at such an inconvenient time. "could she wait for another twenty minutes? we've almost concluded the contracts."

the sorry smile given by the intern is enough of an answer for him, "i don't think it would be appropriate for me to repeat the words she said, but she didn't give off the impression of wanting to wait long, sir."

so…spoiled.

he could already imagine how you would be waiting there; making yourself comfortable up on his desk, legs dangling in your four inch heels and tapping your nails against the glass whilst admiring the photo of the two of you on your honeymoon situated at the desks edge. of course, you would be doing this all with a small pout on your face, ready for you scold him for how long it's taken him to head back to you.

nursing an apologetic smile, he glances towards the man and woman on each side as if silently asking to resume this another time. they wave him off with small laughter, going on about keeping you happy and all the unimportant other things; eren's too preoccupied with going to see you to register their words.

he's quick making his way to the elevator, but not before swiping a single champagne coloured rose from a vase nearby; eren knows he can't show up empty handed, not with you. it's not irregular for you to come to his work so unannounced; at a random time on any given day. you strut around the office like it's yours, you make friends with the secretaries and listen to office gossip like you're one of them, and you tell his assistant all about the plans the two of you have like he doesn't already know. at this point his employees hold you in higher regard than they do him.

it's expected though; seeing how you have their boss contorted around your pretty finger.

your face lights up from it's bored expression when you hear the elevator chime. it takes four of eren's long strides to reach his office doors, and he opens it to a carbon copy of what he'd imagined only minutes ago.

"'ren!" smiling at his tall frame, you open up your arms for him to take. the smell of his rosewood cologne pronounces itself through the hug, which shortly turns into intertwined lips. "missed you." you mutter against his now gloss stained mouth, taking hold of his stubbled chin with long nails to deepen your kiss.

"i missed you too baby, got you this," he mumbles, handing you the flower before steadying his hands on both your sides, essentially baring you to his warm body, "how was your hair appointment?"

"thank you," you soften, casually dipping your nose into the welts of the rose to take in it's scent before continuing, "it was good, didn't take as long as i thought so i wanted to come say hi!" your eyes dilate to black expanses as you properly take him in. eren left early today, so you couldn't get a glimpse of him leaving the house. but seeing him now, with his hair pulled up into it's signature messy ponytail and the blue armani suit you told him buy—you could quite literally drool.

"it looks good." he takes a piece of your hair before leaving it alone. "and your dress looks real pretty on you."

grinning at his words, you shimmy out of his hold; intentionally ignoring the way his eyes follow the dips, curves and pudge highlighted by the sundress you wear. "so, i thought we could eat some food together."

for the first time since entering the room, his eyes shift from you over to the wicker basket on the nearby sofa.

you're sitting on his lap as he rests in his chair, putting some radish on the cucumber roll before feeding it to your husband, "hope i didn't pull you from anything..."

ah…

eren is a calculated man; he doesn't act irrationally. instead, he thinks—thinks for just a few seconds of possible outcomes depending on what he does. but with you? there's no need for that; you probably knew there was a high chance of him being in a meeting, if you weren't already told that by his assistant—so, as always, he chooses the answer that'll ultimately keep you happy.

"hm? nope, nothing important enough."

"oh, mkay." you nod, taking a mini donut from its cute package and popping it into your mouth. after dusting off your hands, you fiddle with the strands of hair that frame his face, “you coming home early today? we can watch that movie i was talking about—and i’ve been dying to get to properly use the theater with you.”

“let me think about it, princess—but i’ll try.” he sports a boyish smile, accepting the water bottle you hand him before watching you clean up the empty trays and takeout boxes. his words are most definitely for show, that man will be home by six instead of eight—hell, make it five.

perhaps eren jaeger truly has won at life; god…you look alluring, walking around his space with your heels like the place is your own, fragrancing the room with the scent of your lotion mixed with the perfume he gifted you. his wandering eye is fixed to your legs, catching how your dress rides up with every step taken.

“can feel you starin’ at me.” you tease in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips as you bend down to pick up fallen trash.

“good.” his long legs aid him in striding towards your frame, large hands come to rest on your hips from behind. his thumbs begin to rub soft circles on them as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “did my employees see you in this?”

“duh—i had to see them to see you,” you laugh.

you know damn well what this is about, and you find it amusing. for the most part, your husband is a calm man; slow to anger, leans towards calmly solving disputes as opposed to growing aggressive, and when he gets agitated, he takes a break. but at the mere mention of his wife, eren seems to abandon all sensical thoughts of zen he once had.

“any of ‘em stare?”

“dunno.” you respond with a shrug and turn to face eren, smoothing down the collars of his outfit with your hands, “i don’t pay attention to any of them. they’re not you.”

“okay.” he makes his way back to his seat, gesturing to you to follow along. “i really do mean it when i say you look nice in that dress—well, i always mean it but…”

you’re giggling, standing in between his spread legs while looking down at him, “thanks ‘ren.”

“mhm, i’m the luckiest man in the world.”

oh…he has that tone in his voice again; the rasped one that has your legs pressing together when he speaks. it’s the kind that happens when he gets a lustful glint in his eyes—when he wants to fuck you. his hands wander up the fabric of your dress, the feeling of his cold wedding band makes you gasp and steady your hands onto his shoulders for support.

“h-hold on.”

“something wrong?” he stills, “if it’s the cameras, i’ll get the footage removed—or maybe you want me to get a copy of it?”

“nothing’s wrong.” you shake your head, but make a mental note to ask him to indeed grab a copy before deleting it, “just want you to relax for a moment—i know i took you out of that meeting.” you speak as slowly and your fingers move down his arms, keeping his eye contact as you lower your knees to the ground. “‘m sorry love, i wanted to see you for a bit.”

why are you apologizing? there’s no need for you to, there’s never been a need for you to, and eren doesn’t think he would ever make you either.

“let me make it up to you.”

you don’t let him get much of a word out before you’re unzipping his slacks and palming the prominent bulge that greets your eyes. his body shows it’s gratitude by sinking into your ghostly touch. eren can only breath in sharp inhales as you free his dick from it’s confinement, straightening itself out as translucent pre stumbles from the tip. you shouldn’t be shy but eren is big in every sense. and your brain seems to struggle with object permanence; eyes almost blowing open in surprise of how thick he is despite you practically owning it. the phantom ache in your jaw seems to be a warning—you shouldn’t try anything.

but eren’s presence alone overrides all alarms and commands in your brain, and the hazy look he gives you from his seat has you subconsciously wrapping your hand around his base, shifting across the length and tracing the roads and ridges of his veins with your tongue.

he sucks his teeth when you pucker your lips at the slightly pinkish tip, feathering a little kiss before letting spit fall from your mouth and onto his cock. the dribble doesn’t make it past the head before you’re meeting it with your lips, steadily taking him into your stretched walls. the feeling of the burn from your mouth molding in indecent ways would make you wince if not for the effects eren’s soft groans and breaths have on your cloudy mind.

“such a pretty sight. p-pretty fuckin’ view.” a sigh escapes him when you hollow your cheeks. admittedly, it’s nothing like the home he knows your cunt as, but when you bottom out and his tip punches the back of your throat, it seems like the closest thing. it surely is a sight to see: a sweet woman like you, doing something so damn nasty.

your throat tightens with each bob, trying its best to prevent a gag but failing every now and then. still, you plant a hand on his knee for stability to lessen the slight burn in your knees given by the nylon carpet beneath them, and allow the mixture of precum and saliva escape your mouth and dribble everywhere.

“oh, fuck—yeah, you got it.” he’s amazed, seeing you take him like a fucking champion, choking all over him without a single complaint. “that’s my girl.”

despite going nice and slow, you get messy—his dick fucks up your sensory system. glittery tears breach your water line, threatening to drop and roll as you sniffle away.

eren is pulled out of his trance when your mouth escapes him, watching you with a slight furrow in his brow. you gaze at him through your pretty lash extensions, tongue unfurling out for you to tap him on. “tastes so good eren.”

“shit—don’t say that to me.” his whimpers are loud, as loud as his heaves for the same air that seems to avoid him. conscious of the chance that sound could somehow transfer, he drapes his hand across the lower half of his face and captures the guttural groan from his chest.

“you don’t need to be quiet,” your hand grabs hold of his own, carefully guiding it from his mouth to the back of your head. silently, you watch him with admirable and expectant eyes that could make him cum from the sight alone, “don’t you own this place?”

my god… you want him to face fuck you, you’re outwardly asking him to do so without a drop of shame. right until your makeup is ruined and a crying mess from how full your mouth is. he doesn’t do it often—he’s too scared of watching you cough up spit and develop a sore throat the next day for it to happen regularly. besides, eren is a pleaser—very rarely did he have you like this unless you openly wanted it. but with the look of expectation you have, sniffling and pleading for him to help you like a dutiful husband he promised to be, it’s difficult to him to do anything other than comply.

eren wants to give you a standing ovation watching you submissively relax in his tender hold. with eyes full of love, he steadily lines you up with his tip, counting you to three before guiding you down the length of his cock. your husband starts off slow, keeping a nice pace that makes it easy to inhale enough to go back down. but like all things, it grows—grows faster. hands tangle in your hair, driving your head down to meet him halfway; you gag and choke and drool out the corners of your mouth, you dig and scratch with your nails, you savour quick inhales that are quickly consumed and leave you with even less air than before.

the tip of your nose tickles the pubic hair at his pelvis as he holds your head steady at his base. the cut off of circulation has your eyes going spotty, but the lightheadedness just feels so so so good.

upon seeing the twitch in his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, your breath hitches—he’s going to cum if you continue. whatever words you attempt to speak translates to vibration that makes his dick jump, so twice, you pat his arm.

there’s a look of panic on his features, ignoring the mess left on his lower body and he releases you from his grasp. almost subconsciously, he pushes all traces of hair from your face, cupping you cheeks and forcing you to look at him, “did something happen? are you alright? was it too much—i’m sorry, love.”

“no.” you shake your head, moving from the position in front of him that made your knees ache and buckle. quietly, you turn your back to him, hazardly pressing your body into his desk while your hands tease up the back of your thighs, dragging the dress’s fabric along with it. “just want you to cum inside, it doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”

symphonies ring through his head: eren is sure he’s won at life—and he’s going to be selfish with it. you’re his freedom—your pussy is his national anthem, not the fucking two minute song that rings monotonely in his mind after hearing it. he can’t rip his eyes away when your dress climbs up and over your ass; it exposes your thong and it’s practically swallowed by the folds of your pussy, which leaves a damp spot right near its entrance.

“oh, eren…” you sigh in relief at the feeling of your hand fumbling to pull your panties to the side for your husband to see just how wet you get on the mere thought of him. your fingers are met with no friction as you slowly rub your clit, nails clacking against each other and you spread the slick that coats your cunt.

you pull away from yourself with a string connecting your fingers to your pussy, all before giving it a few love taps once more. “‘s all yours.”

it’s all his…what a fucking lucky man. your scent has commanding control over him, clinging to his body and moving him towards you like a puppeteer and he’s the woodwork. hands rounding over the fat of your ass, he makes quick work of pulling your thong off one leg and letting it pool at your ankle. he’s not afraid to admit it: eren jaeger will die for this pussy—his wife’s pussy.

he makes quick work of you, slotting his dick within your folds, fucking himself up against your clit a few times before convening at your hole. he sheaths himself inch by inch, reveling in the soul snatching grip you welcome him with. the pulsation of your spongy walls almost bites at him—cause a stuttered moan to fall from him as he bottoms out into you.

“fuck!” you squeal at the feeling of his tip budding up against your cervix. frantically, you try to inch forward to build some space between you two.

“nuh-uh, no fucking running,” he sucks his teeth, digging his dull nails in your hips to keep you flush against his body, “take it whole, didn’t i teach you better than that?”

“mm—mhm!” baring your eyes shut, you allow your upper body to relax into the glass surface of the desk while he finds his rhythm. but you’re at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he drags out to the hilt and buries himself back in until he’s trying to bypass your ass. his repeated strokes strikes against the soft spot at the roof of your cunt, “you’re going so fast.”

“am i—shit—am i supposed to go slow?” he asks knowingly, to which you frantically shake your head no to. had he gone any second slower, you’d be throwing a damn fit, whining about his talking too much time in teasing you and throwing yourself back into his hips instead. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

each thrust drags out more of the milky white slick that forms a nasty ring around the base of his cock. “r-ren, you’re kissin’ me…” you whine, wiggling and writhing as you feel him reach your cervix—‘n it hurts, hurts real good and eren knows you don’t want him to stop.

your sobs fog up the glass below, and with tear stained eyes you turn your head to look back at your husband. his pace falters when he locks your gaze—it’s hazy and pretty, your once neat waterline is now smudged against your lower eyelids, and your plump lips are in a pout to suppress what would be breathy moans to quick whimpers—all which reach his dick just the same.

eren wastes no time grabbing a hold of your leg and hoisting it up to meet your torso on the table. the new angle gives him leeway to hit deeper—rub against his favourite spot that has you seeing stars.

“fuck, yeah—p-please eren.” you’re babbling incoherently, eyes gluing shut to give yourself some peace of mind as you shift your hips backwards to meet him halfway, “give it to me, jus’ like that!”

oh, shit.

your eagerness messes up his pace, making him curse at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and instead slipping up against your neglected clit.

“c’mon…put it back in.” you’re whining, rubbing your cunt all over him like the neediest thing he’s ever seen—but you’re so molded to eren; there is undoubtedly nothing else in the world that makes you feel better than the way he does.

“calm down, be patient.” his voice is smooth—firm. it pulls you down into a sense of docility; security. it almost makes you forget how you’re being defiled on the desk where he earns a living so you can wear the pearls on your neck. “you’re so good to me.” he’s mumbling, fucking himself through your folds.

you can hear the sounds of your juices mixing, and eren giving a low groan before bottoming back into your sweet pussy that welcomes him back like a man once at war.

“baby…gonna—i’m gonna cum.” you shake your head at the inevitable—you’re already whimpering and your legs are buckling under the pressurizing buildup in your bottom torso.

and eren? he would never deny you of anything you wanted—in fact, he loves when you cum; your body goes rigid and develops an ironclad grip on him, and your mouth hangs open in the most obscene, yet pretty, way. so he encourages you, coaxes you on by keeping steady, hitting harder.

“f-fuckfuckfuck—fuck!” when your hand shoots down to rub and fuss and your clit, you’re done for.

eren’s strokes don’t stop when you do. instead, he lets you ride out your high right on his dick—and you…your walls are fluttering around him. uncontrolled sobs leave your mouth as you grip onto the table for some sort of stability, “that’s it.”

“you feel good?” he asks, moving your leg from the tabling and bringing you up to meet his body.

your mind is so gone, you can only mirror the words of your husband, “mhm—feels good.”

his hands grab your waist, pulling you down into the chair with him. there’s little time for you to process your surroundings before eren’s got your back flush against him, arms hooked around the back of your legs, bringing them back towards your chest.

“you can take a little more for me, right?” he huffs, blindly navigating himself back into your hole before receiving extra aid from your fucked out self.

truth be told, you’d take anything for eren—even when you’re crying from the sheer overstimulation you feel as he sloppily bounces you on his cock. you can only pray he cums quick, all before you truly start to get messy in his place of work.

“give it to me ‘ren.” moaning sweetly, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and tug at the hair found in your fist, “c’mon—give me what i came here for.”

and eren…he doesn’t like to keep you waiting.

“fuck—you’re just the most spoiled thing aren’t you?” he moans—truly, he knows there is no one to blame but himself. and when you give him pussy this good, what else can he do?

your heeled feet clack together as eren fucks up into you with little regard for decency. his breathing is erratic, either heavy or almost laboured and still. your name is stuck on his lips—rolling around on his tongue like candy—he says it like a chant, rambling on about how only you can get him like this. shallow groans and grunts as he stills in your cunt—making sure you feel every rope of him by keeping you right on him despite your squirms.

“feel full?”

you scoff playfully, moving from your position once eren lets you, only to see a coy grin settling on his face. he’s not expecting an answer—especially when you return his smile while tugging your dress back down your legs. his eyes follow your movements, watching as you gather the picnic basket, keys to your pink porsche, and lace thong within your hands before making your way back to him.

slotting the underwear into the pocket of his blazer jacket, you whisper, “you’d better be home early, mr. jaeger.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #eren jaeger x black reader #aot x black reader #eren x black reader #snk x reader #snk smut

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milf-murdock · 2 months

Text

Safety First

(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader

Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it. Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just….devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌 A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.

Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.

Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.

“Hey—“ the deep familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs.

“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action.

The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond.

“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch.

“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“

“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.”

You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.”

“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background.

__________________

Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7.

His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again.

“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response.

Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained.

He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car.

Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you.

The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more.

“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit.

“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.”

He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words.

“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.”

You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling.

“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks.

“Well, maybe not absolutely sure…” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“

Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.”

“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?”

“Understood.” You sniffle once more.

“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand.

__________________

You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”

“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.”

“Yeah, but still…” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame.

“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back.

“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.”

“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears.

As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.

You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was.

Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of…wrestling.

But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work…all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace.

Simon was going to teach you to shoot.

______________

That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you.

“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast.

“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?”

“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast.

“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug.

__________________

You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life.

Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could.

With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range.

The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this.

As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help.

“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity.

“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.”

“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.”

“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal.

Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms.

Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you.

“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy.

You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were.

“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.”

“But how did you—? Should I even—?”

“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.”

You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.”

“Good. Then let’s get after it.”

He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears.

“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses.

Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.”

“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.”

Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies.

“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.”

His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?”

You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—

“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.”

You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”

“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.” You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier?

“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him.

“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward.

It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside.

“Alright, she’s loaded now.”

“Okay…” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”

“Now you point and shoot.”

“At what?”

“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley.

“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest.

Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track.

“Better?”

“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim.

With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger.

The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see…

You’ve miss the target completely.

“S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles.

“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.”

You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level.

“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”

“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly.

“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.”

You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot.

“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.”

You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim.

A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger.

This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.

“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look.

Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down.

“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place.

You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!”

You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.”

And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless.

“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded.

“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around.

“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range.

You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.

“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response.

You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel…powerful.

Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon.

Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there.

Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.

“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon.

The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop.

“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs.

Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop.

You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height.

“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need.

His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs.

He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh.

You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.”

His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core.

Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him.

Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure.

His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take.

His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low.

“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?”

You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him.

“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm.

“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan.

“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock.

You nod fervently.

“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside.

You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained.

“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.”

You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss.

“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.”

Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.”

His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life.

“Si…” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles.

“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure.

“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“

“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out.

“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.

You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up…please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours.

You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive.

“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.”

You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.”

Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Something like that, love.”

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon “ghost” Riley x reader

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honeydippedwaffles · 10 months

Text

Smallest Drop

Summary: Tav overhears Astarion complaining about their situation and decides to do what she can to make it a little better for him and she ends up surprising him in the process.

Tav isn't referred to by name. There might be a part 2 if this is well-received.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 1.8k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

It started when she overheard a passing comment from behind her, grumbled in response to something Lae’zel said.

From the earliest parts of the day, they’d been making their way through difficult terrain; surrounded by thousands of bugs and mud up to their ankles. She’d tried not to complain about it though Astarion never shared her focus on quiet suffering and he had a fair point.

Though they’d managed to set up a fairly comfortable camp outside the grove – not wanting to impose nor deal with the druids for too long – they hadn’t really found any chance to properly bathe since their abduction.

The late afternoon glinted into her eyes as an idea presented itself.

She slipped away from the group almost excitedly to find the abandoned house where she’d spied it not long ago. After making sure it contained no nasty surprises, she’d left. It didn’t really have a roof and the majority of it had been burned down by some form of magical fire but most importantly, it had a tub.

One night together shouldn’t have made her so weak for the elf but despite all his sweetened words and falsities, he captivated her attention. She knew he meant little by it but sometimes those words made her days brighter regardless.

And she wanted to return the favour given how the muddy path came from her badly thought-out route.

The river running close by provided her with clean and cool water, not the easiest to move in large amounts but still able to fill the tub. It didn’t leak (a minor miracle) and she managed to use a little more of her already-exhausted magic to get a few charms warming the water up.

She smiled at her work proudly and left the charms to do her work while she made her way back to the grove to get some soaps.

Her shoulders shook a little as she eyed her small surprise. Proud and excited, she now faced the greatest of tasks.

Encouraging Astarion to actually step away from camp.

“No, thank you,” he said, dismissed her with the casual wave of a hand. “I’ve had quite enough traipsing through the forest for one day. If you want to continue finding every possible swamp insect to attack you, you’re welcome to be my guest.”

She sighed. “But I have something to show you. It’s a surprise.”

He smiled, strained. “My, aren’t you a desperate little thing. Maybe I’ll join you a little later in the night but for now, I’m afraid I don’t have the energy or the interest.”

“No, it’s not…” she groaned. “It’s just a bath, alright? I overheard you complaining about being dirty earlier so I found one for you.”

“Did you now?”

“Yes. Come along. Those runes aren’t going to last forever and I know you’re going to fuss about the water temperature.”

Astarion chuckled and she immediately knew he didn’t believe her. “I appreciate the creativity, darling. Really, I do, but you’ll find direct offers are far more effective on me.” He leaned closer and she became suddenly aware of how many eyes watched them from around the camp. “But if you’re really going to such lengths, I’m not going to deny you forever.”

Flushed, she stepped away and ducked her head. “Fine. I’ll use it myself but you better not complain once more about it.”

She ignored the slightly concerned expressions of her friends as she stormed back into the tree line by herself. Why she even thought he’d appreciate it… she shouldn’t have even bothered offering it to him. She really needed to be more selfish if she wanted to not get turned down by the vampire spawn again.

It stung more than she expected it to, even if she wasn’t offering anything more than an actual bath.

She brushed her fingers over the surface of the still-warm water when she got there and sighed. It still felt like a waste, even if she used it. Amazing how homesick she’d grown for her house when stuck out in the wild with nothing more of comfort than a single bedroll.

Maybe she should have stolen one of those beds from the goblin den they cleared.

The floor creaked and her hand flew to her weapon, spun around only to find a very arrogant elf who appeared annoyingly surprised.

“My, so it wasn’t even a ploy alone,” he said. “You genuinely managed to find a bath. I respect your dedication if nothing else. There are certainly easier ways of seeing me undressed.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the water. “I was trying to do something nice for you but as you’re not interested, feel free to return back to camp.”

He stepped close enough to brush his fingers against her cheek. “Whoever said I wasn’t interested?”

“You did. In very direct words.”

“Well, things change. I’ve decided you’re quite right. It’s been far too long since I got to wash and you’ve been so sweet, setting it all up for me. I couldn’t be rude and turn you down right now, could I?”

Cursing the elf beneath her breath for his indecisiveness, she moved to walk past him. “Enjoy.”

Once again, she surprised him and Astarion took a second to respond, calling to her as she reached the edge of the charred flooring.

“You’re not joining me?”

She looked back at him. “Am I meant to be?”

“Why, yes. I can hardly be expected to do things like washing my hair all by myself. What if I get lonely or attacked?”

She frowned at him but he kept smiling at her in the same insistent way he did when he wanted something. The corner of his lips pulled up as though he knew a joke and didn’t want to share it. She couldn’t help herself but relent under his burning gaze; he’d done the same thing when she’d agreed to let him drink blood from her throat. Perhaps she should be concerned with where her willpower went when it came to this man.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll help with your hair if you really need.”

“How fun.”

He insisted on being as distracting as possible when he got undressed. His constant glances at her met nothing in return but she couldn’t help glancing at the scars as he lowered himself into the tub.

Their ridges made her uncomfortable. Not knowing what it said frightened her for Astarion’s safety rather than her own.

Nothing good ever came from runes carved into flesh.

“There’s no need to act so shy, beautiful. You’ve seen me in far more compromising situations than this.”

She wouldn’t call their night together compromising but she ignored the comment regardless. His soft sigh of relaxation as he settled into the water worked wonders for clearing up her irritation.

How he managed to be so magnetic astounded her. She found a spot to sit behind him and slowly, gingerly, began to help him with his hair. Despite being ridiculously soft considering how long they adventured in the wilderness, it needed some careful care and attention.

She took care to stay gentle when she found where tangles turned into knots and worked them free without pulling. He gave a small hum when she had to give a soft tug and she took it as an okay to use a little more force.

“We don’t have much to work with but I did manage to get some things from the grove,” she said. “It won’t be up to your standards but I don’t think anything really is.”

Cagey about his past, all she knew surrounded the small snippets he gave her when upset or ranting. She doubted he’d ever had much time to fuss over which hair products he used, too busy watching over his shoulder for a constant threat. He still did so now when he thought nobody could see. His meditation never held him deeply as sleep took her.

“Regardless of whether or not it’s professional, I won’t complain about your skills with this.”

“Skills at detangling your hair?”

“At winning my favour.”

She frowned a little and focused on the white locks where they curled between her fingers. “I’m not only doing this because I want to impress you.”

“I’m sure you have other motivations,” he hummed, teasing. “But you know you’re more than welcome to join me whenever you’re ready. You chose a good-sized tub for both of us.”

She ignored him again, instead focusing on working out a tight knot. Once done, she encouraged him to lean back a little so she could massage the soap gently into his hair, rubbing soft circles against his scalp until his eyes fluttered closed and the smallest hint of relaxation showed in his expression.

Good. He carried far too much tension and she stopped herself from continuing the slight massage down to where she could see the stress in his neck and shoulders. How uncomfortable it must be but she didn’t want to encourage whatever strange idea he had about this situation.

Still, even if she hadn’t planned anything, she couldn’t deny her attraction.

She wanted to press her lips to the pale skin of his neck and trace the path of the water droplets as they pooled against his collar bone. She wanted to trail her hands over his sides and pull him close.

She coughed to stop her thoughts before they ran too far.

If the parasite in her skull didn’t kill her soon, she may just die from the way this elf made her heart pulse unnaturally fast.

“Everything alright?”

He sounded… well, still as flirtatious as ever but more concerned than she thought he would. She snapped her attention back to him and almost lost herself in those stunning eyes.

If she wanted to, she could so easily fall prey to his sweetened words and he really wouldn’t mind. He would encourage it even.

She finished washing the last of the soap from his hair and stood up somewhat uneasily. Pride still shone in her chest as he sat up properly, appearing far cuter than she anticipated with his hair falling flat against his skin.

She saw the invite on his lips before he even said it. Watched him flick whatever switch he had to draw her in and she hurried to leave.

“I’ll see you back in camp, alright?”

His confused expression followed her as she stepped away from the building but he didn’t call her back. She found her way back to camp with a slight heave to her chest and a desperate need for a distraction.

Though she really should have thought it through before she asked Lae-zel to spar with her. The bruise kept her up for the entire night – long enough to realise he didn’t come past for a taste of her blood in the evening.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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bindeds · 4 months

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╭ 𝜗𝜚﹔ᵎᵎ acknowledging his aromanticism & asexuality. ALASTOR X FEM READER HEADCANONS ! — i know alastor is aroace BUT i am challenging myself to make a more aroace friendly post about our best man. this post contains SLIGHT nsfw (he doesn’t take part in it physically and is quite unattached!)

gif creds go to @sakuhai !

mlist. request status.

since being aroace is a spectrum i’d like to imagine that with the life he led and the horrible things he did in hell, it was just never possible for him to fall for anyone and vice versa

but of course that all fell apart when you came along.

you had to be the one to open up about it first, and you know this from the way everyone was more aware of his sexuality than even he was. of course, if he were to, by some miracle, return your feelings, he would still be aroace considering the definition of those terms are ‘an individual who experiences little to no romantic or sexual attraction,’ but if anything that just meant that the chances of him even feeling anything for you is MUCH slimmer than compared to many others’.

but yes, come to think of it, even if Alastor had been invading your personal space the way he usually does with everyone in the hotel, he didn’t mind when you did the exact same for him, always leaning or touching his shoulders or pulling him along by the hand if you were excited to show him something. It was an odd feeling when he’d come to realize this during your confession.

“care to dance?” he would say, extending a gentle hand towards you right after your confession. you took it without much thought and slow music began to play seemingly from his mic, but it felt like the music had been hugging the both of you together as you swayed in tandem.

seeing as alastor was touch-repulsed, of course it puzzled you to have his hand so firm on your waist as the other held up your own, but then you realize something, and you asked to confirm it. “Did you like to dance like this when you were still alive?”

“Oh of course dear, I was quite the gentleman in my youth, but you already know that,” you followed his rhythm like you and him were one in the same, and he spun you around before having both your hands meet his own.

“will you give me time, darling?”

and of course, you were happy to give whatever time he needed. Though he didn’t need much because he’s simply never felt this way before. He’d come to terms with it quite early in his life that it’s simply not one of the ‘pleasures’ he’d get to experience in both his lifetime as a living being and as a demon. But he knew this was different. You felt different.

even more different than all the friends he had, and he was very aware of the fact that about 95% of his friends were women, and none of them came close to giving him the feeling you did with that dance and your general being, and alastor has danced with many, many women.

nonetheless, you picked a very difficult man to be with. very difficult indeed. he knew this, and you knew this. so as any normal man would he came back to you with what seemed to be his own terms and conditions.

1 : do not, under any circumstance, expect him to be open to sexual intimacy. he’s only just found out that he is, in fact, capable of experiencing romantic attraction even though it took dying and MANY years of being a heartless cannibal, sadist and murderer for him to find it, all of which contributes to just how overwhelming this is as it is. just thinking about the sexual aspect is something he’d rather not add to the juggle pile. 2 : he will be bad at this, and you’ve no choice but to accept that. he might have seen these types of things play out multiple times throughout both lifetimes, but theory and practice are two very different things, and it just doesn’t come naturally to him. So if you can’t be patient with him, he would completely understand and break it off immediately.

other than that, he will do anything in his power to make you happy. and of course, you agreed to these terms without hesitation and without shaking his hand—heavens, he couldn’t do that to you … unless you wanted him to own your soul.

seeing as you’ve had a long talk about your arrangement with him, he respectfully calls you his partner. you first thought that maybe he would want to start with dates first, but then he looked you in the eye and you remembered every single night he would just leave the hotel for you at 2am in the morning without notice, pick you up and grab the most horrendous food ever. alastor never even complained that you didn’t try freshly killed limbs and you never questioned him back. those were dates enough for you.

you ask him about his preferences anyway, and he says that one of the deciding factors for him was that you wouldn’t even be able to imagine the things he’d do to anyone who tried to have you if you two were in some sort of mutual agreement instead of an official relationship. of course, you had no problem with being his, so off you two went.

nothing much changed besides the much more frequent visits over at yours. but then also, a lot has changed because of the more frequent visits.

he tried normal food once for your sake, didn’t like it, wasn’t used to it, but he liked that he made you smile when he spat it out in the end. and on the contrary, he didn’t ask you to try cannibalism, and appreciated the fact that you’d gotten used to him eating in front of you with all the gore and flies laid out before the both of you.

another thing that changed was his oral hygiene. it was absolutely horrendous, but spending many evenings in your room and seeing you get ready for bed has alastor getting used to the ‘brushing teeth’ scene, so, like the food, he tries it for your sake. it wasn’t so bad, but it fixed basically nothing seeing as he eats nothing but raw meat and demon limbs for all three meals of the day. but, he did it every other day, and there was actually a lighter shade of yellow in his teeth by the end of the month.

he gets you flowers and your favorites every now and then for no reason at all. in his words, “it is absolutely absurd to be celebrating our very special relationship on just one day every year. and you don’t ask for much, so i thought i’d help myself to being the reason i get to see that radiant smile of yours, dove.”

he slept over at your place once. it wasn’t an active decision he’d made, it was just one of those nights when he came to visit and instead of leaving at the usual time, you asked him to stay and he did. you were in bed and talking to him about a book you had just gotten into and he made the mental note of reading it himself when he had the time. he saw how blissful you were in the sheets and took of his coat to settle next to you. the conversation was like any other he’d usually have with you, sprinkled in with sadistic jokes and laughter, but the night was different as he drifted off not long after you had.

if you ever had to get kicked out from your place for whatever reason, alastor would check you into the hazbin hotel, no questions asked despite how much of a bad idea it was. god, just the thought of others finding out made him grind his teeth.

he wasn’t ashamed of you by any means, but it was more of the fact that he knew no one would be normal about this. alastor, the radio demon has a heart after all. and that heart was you. and you were beating with beauty and blood and gentle patience he absolutely didn’t deserve. so he talked to you, and you understood the situation and agreed to be referred to as his friend.

if alastor ever does anything sexual with you, it would definitely be when he senses through little subtle hints that you’re pent up. he tries to ignore it for a while but he brings it up one day, asking if it would help if you masturbated while he was in the room. you were embarrassed, of course, but seeing as alastor was ace this was already a big step from him, so you accepted.

by this time, alastor would have visited you enough to have seen you naked once or twice, all by accident, but he didn’t have much of a reaction seeing as neither of you made physical contact with each other, you were okay with it and none of it had any sexual intentions behind it.

and so he watched you. he watched you with that devilish smile of his, and when you were sweating and panting and close, he walked towards you and held your chin up to him as you continued to get off towards your climax.

“are you thinking of me, my dear?” he whispered, his voice sounding more muffled as the stereo effect doubled. you were afraid to say yes. afraid that that was a boundary of his you were crossing. but then he says, “if anything gets you going, let it be me, my love.”

and of course, you came.

you asked if he was uncomfortable and he said, “heavens no, darling! i would never back out on my word, especially if it is one i gave to you. nothing is sacred, but every night, our bond whispers to be. so if there is a way help you with your sexual urges without making my skin crawl, then i am more than happy to oblige.”

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