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#i get sm second hand embarrassment
hoshiina · 3 months
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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)
summary: he still dreams of you and wishes for another chance to make you his, some lines are inspired by hakujitsu by king gnu
warnings: reader is rather lively/bubbly,
notes: TYSM FOR 100 !!!, a/n (yapping) in tags
wc: 1800
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Hoshina Soushirou still dreamt of you. Every once in a while, you’d come to visit him in his sleep and it would make him believe that a miracle had occurred, that he had another chance. Every time, he would tell himself that he would never let this go, that he would give it his absolute all this time.
Yet, every time, he would wake up from this dream.
And every time, he would feel his heart drop at the realization of that. He was disappointed, and he knew, but there was no reason to be. It wasn't like anything had happened between the two of you. He liked to believe there was something going on— something more than mere acquaintances or friends, but he knew there wasn't. It must've been all in his head because the last time he had heard of you was before you were moved to the first division. He hadn't heard a single word from you since then, nor has he said anything— but that was just the way it was. There was nothing to do at this point anyway.
He wasn’t with you for all that long, and it was probably just the fact that both of you joined at the same time that naturally started the first conversation. He was far more weary of everything and far less cheerful at the time, and you didn't even work with him most of the time being a researcher, but you didn’t mind that one bit. If you had something you wanted to say, you would tell him and he’d just have to listen. At first, he had no idea why you kept talking to him when he paid hardly any mind, but after a while, he found comfort in your conversations. He had started to look forward to talking to you.
It had only been a few months before the defense force noticed how spectacular your work was and quickly called you over to the first division. There wasn’t a tearful farewell, or even a casual goodbye for that matter. You disappeared along with a cheerful ‘I’ll see you around!’ while you were moving your boxes out and he would hear those words ring in his head for the years to come— in your voice. Yet, at the time, all he could do was force a smile and nod.
It had been so many years since you had moved, he didn’t even know what you looked like now. Probably still stunning. Definitely still stunning. Although he had the chance to see the 1st division officers a lot, you were a researcher who worked behind the scenes. Naturally, there was no reason he'd bump into you, and he didn’t. He never did.
He loved to remember you, but he hated to think about you. He loved to remember the way you would laugh at his silly jokes, the way you would ramble on about the work you had to do daily but would still put in your all, and the way you would always visit him with some cold tea when he trained late into the night if you were still up as well. Actually, he hated thinking about the tea— it would make him start thinking about you. He would think about how you were now, if you were still pilled with work, and if you remembered him.
If he bumped into you, would you remember his name? Maybe if he cracked a lame joke. Maybe if he gave you a few days to think about it. Maybe if he started listing the things you talked about— his most treasured memories. Maybe then you’d say his name again.
See? This is why he hated thinking about you— he had things to be doing.
It wasn't like this happened everyday and it wasn't that big of a deal. It just ruined his day a little when it did happen. So if he had to say, he hated dreaming of you.
As you took over his thoughts again, the emergency alarm started to buzz, as if to tell him to snap out of it. He was thankful, he couldn't still be daydreaming like this.
A smaller-sized identified grade kaiju had appeared near the first division quarters, so the third division was doing more backup work this time. Hoshina was taking care of the smaller kaiju in the vicinity that had spawned from the presence of the honju. It felt nice for him to be doing work, it took his mind off his ramblings and cleared his head. He wasn't too worried about the honju, however. Although it was an identified grade, it wasn't anything they hadn't dealt with before and as much as he liked to tease Narumi about how he was always better at smaller kaiju neutralization, he knew Narumi was extraordinary at what he did.
At least that would have been true for any other kaiju of that size and strength, but Narumi seemed to be struggling far more than expected with this one. From his earpiece, he heard Okonogi notify him that the 1st division was asking to send Narumi some help if possible, and he immediately rushed over.
Yet, by the time he got there, Narumi had already neutralized the kaiju in question, although horribly beat up.
“I don't need your help, Hoshina!” Narumi still managed to yell while on the floor, absolutely bleeding out.
“Oh, shut up, do you want to die?” Hoshina asked. It didn't take an expert to see that Narumi’s condition was concerning.
Narumi soon fell quiet, probably unconscious, while Hoshina found his earpiece lying on the floor near him. He picked it up, hoping it'd connect to the first division just in case they had lost connection to his vitals.
“He's unconscious right now, but he seems to still be breathing. However, he's bleeding dangerously from multiple spots. I think a few ribs might also be broken,” Hoshina said. “There aren't any kaiju nearby at the moment and I'll take care of them if any do come— bring the stretcher right away.”
He waited a moment, but there was no response from the earpiece.
“Hello?” he asked, hoping for a response. After another moment, he heard it.
“Hoshina…?”
It was you. He would still recognize your voice from anywhere. Oh, how he missed you. His eyes were wide and he had nothing to say all of a sudden. You remembered him. You recognized his voice.
You remembered his name.
“Thank you for your report, we lost connection to some of his vitals halfway through. The medics should be there in a few minutes,” you said.
“I'll stand by,” Hoshina said and kept Narumi's earpiece in his ear. He had nothing he wanted to tell you, not one thing in mind, but he wanted to be on the line with you— even in silence. The medics came in a few minutes like you had told him and took care of Narumi right away.
“They got here, he should be fine now,” Hoshina said, as if you didn't already know. He just wanted something to say to you.
“I missed working with you,” you said and he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps he'd wake up from this dream again. Perhaps he'd open his eyes and be utterly disappointed again. But he knew there wasn't even a hint of romantic affection in your words, just the respect you've always had for the work he did, and how you missed doing this job with him. And he did too.
“Yeah, I did too,” he said. “I still do.”
You chuckled a little and he could still picture you smiling. “That made my entire year,” you said. “Probably not the time for this, but we should catch up sometime. If you don't mind, of course.”
Made your year. What did you mean by that? And If he didn't mind? Oh, you didn't know how many times he's dreamed of this day.
“I'd love to,” he said. While he was a little embarrassed to imagine the rest of the first-division team hearing this conversation, that was not going to stop him. He'd be an absolute fool to let this chance go. He has promised himself to give it his all this time.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked quietly.
“Sorry?” you asked, hoping he'd repeat that. You heard it, but you were afraid you were so delusional you were starting to hear things. Your heartbeat quickened and you waited patiently, hoping it wasn't all in your head.
“Do you have a lover?” he asked a little more clearly, but obviously still nervous and flustered. You had never seen him like this, ever.
“No,” you replied, a little too quickly. “I do not.”
Relief washed over him and he felt his heartbeat quicken. Oh, thank goodness you didn't have access to his vitals. He was going to make you fall for him somehow.
“…do you?” you asked quietly, after a moment.
“Me?” he asked. “No, I don't.”
“I see,” you said, but he could hear the soft delight in your voice. He would never miss it.
Perhaps he'd just go for it. There was nothing for him to lose at this point, and he had made his feelings plenty obvious already. If you didn't want him, he'd just try again. He's tried countless times in his dreams already, what's a few more?
“But I'd love to be yours,” he said and heard you gasp quietly. That one he couldn't read. Was that a little too bold? Far too sudden?
“Did I hear that right?” he faintly heard you scream, asking your fellow first division coworkers. That made him laugh, you hadn't changed one bit. “I’ve loved you forever, Hoshina.”
There was absolutely no way. He was going to wake up soon, he just knew it. Well, might as well indulge in the dream for now, then.
“I've definitely loved you for longer,” he said.
“Hoshina, I'm going to kill you if this is a dream,” you said, and that caught him off guard. Yet, even that sounded nice to him, and that made him smile. He'd get to see you, at least.
But it wasn't a dream. The way your voice fluttered his heart could never be felt through a dream. The way your laugh filled his soul could not possibly make him feel so warm through a mere dream.
“I cannot wait to see you,” you said softly, your voice so full of love it made him melt.
He couldn't either, but that wasn't exactly what he had on mind this entire time.
“And I cannot wait to kiss you.”
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bellzsad · 2 months
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can we please talk about how touchy brenda was with thomas in the scorch trials book like that shit freaked me out
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tantancantdoshit · 1 year
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George rlly is amazing at defusing drama without getting involved in the drama bahahahhaha
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jentlemahae · 1 year
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.
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fecto-forgo · 1 year
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girl who had every barbie movie as a comfort movie to girl who filtered the new movie out minutes after the trailer dropped pipeline
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san8ny · 2 months
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can you pls write nerdy ellie? it can be sfw or nsfw
HOT! HOT!
?: Ellie is alot of things: She’s well articulated, She’s liked around campus, but for the life of her, she cannot get laid. It’s gotten pretty embarrassing, maybe you can help? - NSFW - Excuse me for any spell checks!
!: My mutuals have really yummy fics about nerd!Ellie so please let me know if you’d like any recommendations. - Thank you for your anon, means sm to me baby
You stare at her with an incredulous expression, the sight alone being one of pure unbridled shock upon this new-found discovery.
“Never?”
“Never.”
She reaffirms after you, running a nervous hand through her auburn tresses to ease the silent tension in the air. Ellie Williams, all around “good at fucking anything,” is a virgin. The thought alone was something that poked curiosity and incredulity. You knew she was quite kept to herself, often times busying with books and videogames, but this was something you didn’t expect. I mean, she was with Dina at one point.
You don’t want to make her make her more uncomfortable than the topic is, so you give her some form of comfort; “It’s quite normal, honestly, I don’t even blame you in this society.”
That earns you a laugh and a slight snort from her, throwing her head slightly back. “Yeah?”
You return a chuckle, shrugging, “Yeah, but you’ve atleast kissed before, right?
She immediately quiets down, olive-toned cheeks flushing with a light wash of embarrassment.
Holy fuck.
If you weren’t shocked before, you were gawking now.
“D-don’t look at me like that, man..” She groans, tossing her glasses onto the coffee table as she buries her face in a nearby decorative throw-pillow. “No, no— I don’t mean in a bad way, just surprised.”
“Surprised?” She murmurs softly, staring at the dim dorm lightbulb that hangs above them, “That’s a first. Dina usually calls me forcibly celibate.”
You want to curse yourself at the noise you let out, eyes watering as you slap your mouth with a cupped palm. Ellie side-eyes you with a scoff as she gets up from her seat, “Yeah, Yeah, Alright—“
“I’ll be serious! I promise.” You call out, reaching for her wrist to sit her back down, to which she does.
“Have you ever, like, considered it, though?”
Her interest piques at this turn, reaching for her glasses back, “What? Having sex?”
Well, duh.
Ellie hums, thinking about it for a second, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it..” She trails off, wiping her lenses with the corner of her graphic-tee, before putting them on. “Only to someone I really like.”
“Aw, that’s actually really sweet, I actually had a friend once who—
“Which is why I want you to fuck me.” She bluntly puts, staring at you four-eyed.
. . .
“Come again?” You cock your head out, “You want me to..?”
She inches forward, nodding like a bobblehead, “Yeah! It makes sense. You’re my friend, and I like you, so it’ll work.” You sigh, shaking your head, “Ells, it doesn’t work like that. What if you regret it?”
“So you’d agree to it if I don’t regret it?” She smiles, tone a bit ecstatic as she sees you entertain the idea.
She really was putting you on the spot, huh?
You stare at her for a bit, studying her face. She seemed enthusiastic about getting the opportunity to even lay hands on your soft skin. Saying you were pretty was an understatement, you were the epitome of wet-dreams; She was head over heels pretty much in-love with you, and the idea of even losing such a prize position like her virginity to you symbolized things she could only dream about.
You roll your eyes as you both kneel on her mattress, her fiddling with your bra like it’s the most complicated thing. “This shit is a death machine, holy smokes.”
Holy smokes?
When she finally succeeds, she’s jittery and giggling to herself, scooting back into the pillows to get a good look at your beautiful breasts. “They’re so fucking hot, ohmygod..” Next thing you know, she’s cupping them softly, kneading the fleshy dough in circular motions, gaze fixed on the way your back arches ever so slightly, eyes fluttering. So she is doing something, right?
She leans her head down, giving your perked areolas experimental licks, opting to suckle them when you give her the green. Your hand finds itself buried in her hair, massaging her tender scalp while she works her tongue on your sensitive buds, closing her own eyes at the pure idea she might be making you feel good.
After a while, you pull her off your tits, pushing her down onto the sheets as she looks at you confused. Poor baby doesn’t understand sex is transactional because she’s too busy giving you her all. You smile softly, leaning over her, legs on each side of her torso as you give her a kiss on the lips, the brief ‘smooch’ sound music to her ears as she opens her heavy lidded eyes back again; they’re filled with neediness, a surge of wanting to be touched more.
By the time you’ve readied her for the real thing, littering her body in soft bruising marks, her voice slightly higher pitched with each ‘uhn!’ she lets out, brows scrunched together and lips slightly ajar, coated in a sheen of saliva from how you kiss her with reassurance you’ll take care of her— she’s telling you with pants, no, begging— “P-please, baby? ‘Can’t take it anymore..”
She means her bottoms, fabric cruely soaked and covered in her own arousal from all the attention you’ve been giving her; Ellie feels lightheaded, tears brimming her crinkled eyes when you thumb her through her boxers. However, words cannot explain the feeling that rushes through her when you lean down and lick a fat strip through the cloth, eyes locked on hers. She hiccups a gasp, shuddering as the cold air hits her mound when you pull the elastic band from the side.
“I wanted to eat it through it, but I think you’re a bit impatient for that, so i’ll cut to what you want.” You whisper, warm breath fanning over her sensitive pussy. By the time you dig in, she’s whining at volumes you literally need to reach up her torso and cover her mouth.
“Uhn! Uhn—! F-fuck—?”
What sorcery did you have on her? Genuinely? She can’t believe she’s been withholding herself from such pleasure, your tongue trudging through her gummy folds making her want to die and come back again. She can barely even think straight, letting out muffled wails against your hand, saliva seeping through and rolling down your wrist in dribbles. You’d be disgusted, but the sight alone boosts your ego, you had her whipped.
Was it mentioned she’s already orgasmed before you even went near her cunt? That’s right, she already came once while you two were kissing. You definitely knew she’d atleast finish early, but damn were you surprised when she shook against you, humming against your lips rhythmatically.
“Am I making you feel good, baby? Can you talk f’me?”
She could barely hear you, and here you were, asking damn questions. Nonetheless, she gives you a small huff in response; alluding that she was somewhat conscious.
Once you deliver her to cum, she’s shivering against the sheets, balling her fists up as you rip both a cry, and orgasm out of her. “A-Ahnnnn..?!.”
Rest of the night, you two went at it like animals; Ellie insisting you teach her everything there was to know about sex in a singular sitting— ..fucking? To say you both tired eachother out would be an underemphasis.
You ruined her.
When you both seemingly knock out, well, atleast you, she slowly sits up, biting her bottom lip in anticipation as she gazes around your naked body, you were gonna sleep over..
She seems more excited at the prospect you’ll stay the night than the fact you two have been literally keeping the entire female dormitory quarters up— likely going to be hit with a personal visit by the RA.
Who cares, not Ellie for sure. She’ll happily flaunt the fact she’s (finally) got some, just to show off.
God, was she a geek.
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You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !
Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.
Moths Hit the Window
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PAIRING: König x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.
WORD COUNT: 5.9k
WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.
A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment. 
Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.
If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze. 
 König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others. 
“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!” 
“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect. 
“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up. 
Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.
No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.
“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.
König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child. 
This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru. 
“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”
The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes. 
“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”
Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest. 
“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!” 
“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”
“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away. 
“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!”  König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”
You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture. 
He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.
Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you,  König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”
It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you. 
But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt. 
You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.
König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”
You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.
Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”
“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”
“Great!”
“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny. 
“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone. 
Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge. 
“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”
“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.” 
“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”
Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.
“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”
“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”
“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction. 
König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”
“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl. 
In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.
Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.
But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.
The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.
“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.
König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance. 
Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.
“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”
“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”
König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.
“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.” 
Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.
Too far.
Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.
You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.
“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.
Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.
Shame that it’s already too late.
Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”
His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.
“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!” 
By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience. 
Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.
Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done. 
The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling. 
Evolve, or die. 
“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”
Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later. 
“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.
“Three minutes.”
“...get to it then. We move in five.” 
So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants. 
“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA. 
The Lieutenant is one of them. 
Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead. 
“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t. 
But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact. 
Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.
The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself. 
The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins. 
Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.  
You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was. 
Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding. 
Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed. 
Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes. 
Closer now.
Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide. 
Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady. 
The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire. 
Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock. 
Your finger slams into the trigger. 
You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.
Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself. 
Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König. 
You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary. 
In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt. 
“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. 
Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch. 
It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later. 
You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure. 
There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.
“You are late.” König. 
He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone. 
Anyone but you, that is. 
König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter. 
You watch and say nothing—dead-faced. 
Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.
“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down. 
Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm. 
“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?” 
Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment. 
The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour. 
“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”
“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you. 
Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”
In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence. 
Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up. 
It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh. 
He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest. 
“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.” 
The needle pauses and a swift nod is given. 
“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.
“Pissed off?” You offer quietly. 
“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”
Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.
“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”
“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.” 
“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?” 
“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”
 König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.
“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?” 
He freezes, muscles going taunt. 
“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?” 
Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away. 
König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate. 
“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”
“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”
“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit. 
“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over. 
There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side. 
And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air. 
König kneeled to you and bared himself. 
Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this. 
There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood. 
Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.
The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug. 
König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning. 
But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.
You were reckless.
Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he. 
A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame. 
“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears. 
König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him. 
“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat. 
Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English. 
Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril. 
You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust. 
You find none. 
“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”
A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening. 
He speaks with a whispered confession.
“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words. 
Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize. 
He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized. 
For you to come back to him. His partner. 
You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.
König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.
The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths. 
This time, you’re the one to gasp.
“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”
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nanaslutt · 1 year
Note
YOUR DRABBLES GIVE ME LIFE AHAGDJSH if you ever write about virgin gojo somehow being really good even on his first time i might lose it !!!!!!!
THANK YEEWWW NONNIE<3333
virgin gojo is very special to me i will HAPPILY expand on this idea, ty sm for the ask~
contains: fem reader, dirty talk<3, virgin!gojo, established relationship, choking, size kink if you squint, two seconds of plot for context
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
before getting into a relationship with gojo you thought he was arrogant, albeit for good reason but he was always so confident and snarky, it drove you insane
the way he would flirt with the cashier at the coffee shop when he took his students out for a break, never failing to fluster them
you’ve seen the way he teases his opponents and coworkers alike
there’s no way that a man with no sexual experience who speaks like he’s trying to seduce you constantly, has never got his dick wet
even hearing yaga say something about how he wears his glasses when he meets with women, so of course you thought he had some experience under his belt (literally)
so it’s safe to say you were a little shocked when you were straddling gojos hips, steadily rocking back and forth on his growing bulge, reaching between the two of you for his belt when one of his hands left your hip and gripped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks mumbling against your lips “slow down baby, never done this before”
it’s not like he consciously tried to stay a virgin for most of his life,
being the strongest he doesn’t exactly have time to relax all that often, so before he knew it he was twenty seven and still, had never had sex
you two have been together for a couple months, you’ve had your fair share of partners, but working at jujutsu tech yourself, you and gojo didn’t have a ton of private time for things like this
sure he’s pulled you into a janitors closet once or twice to slide his knee between your legs and sloppily make out with you till you lost your breath (only adding to the illusion that he’s done this before)
coming to the realization one day that you two haven’t gone much further than that, and wanting to feel closer to him you invited him over to your place after work,
so here you currently were
pulling back from kissing him you looked into his crystalline eyes with an unreadable expression, the gears turning in your mind
memories of him saying sentences straight out of porn when he was kissing you, the way he always knew the spots on your body to caress to make you melt into him
and what did he just say? 𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦???
“did i break you baby? heh, sorry i never told you it’s a little embarrassing” he looks away for a second, rubbing his big hand over the back of his head before placing both hands back on your hips, caressing the skin there, “jus saw were things are headin n thought i would let you know.”
this didn’t make any sense to you, you couldn’t wrap your mind around it but you had to say something, “that’s- but you’re- you- how-“ okay, not exactly what you wanted to say but it made him giggle
“‘s that a problem princess?,” caressing your legs up up up, sliding his lithe fingers under the hem of your shirt and teasing the soft skin of your tummy, he snapped you out of your daze,
“sorry, ‘s not a problem, really satoru, jus had my own assumptions about you, but this doesn’t make me want you any less” you succeeded in forming a coherent sentence, squirming and squeezing around his legs as he stimulates your body, “good to hear baby, ur gonna have to show me what to do right? how to fuck you n make you feel good?,” his teasing voice returns
it was the truth, gojo being a virgin weirdly make you feel hotter, being the first one the worlds strongest sourcerer will be inside of filled you with a sense of pride, “jus sit back baby, let me do all the work.” a wave of confidence filled your chest and he returns his own sinister looking smile
“𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬” you said. so how did you end up here? currently face down, ass up with gojo’s girthy cock splitting you in two as he gives you the most devious backshots, his long middle and index fingers rubbing your own juices all over your clit, adding to the already intense stimulation you were feeling
“fu-ck ‘s-toru-uuu” words getting cut in half as he gives you deep, heavy thrusts, “cant believe ive been missing out on 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴” he punctuates with a hard thrust, knocking the wind out of your chest
“though you d-didnt kn-ow what to d-ooo,” you were trying and failing to speak in an intelligible way, “am i doin a good job?,” he giggles, biting his lip at he looks down at the thick ring of cum you’re leaving at the base of his cock
“so good ‘toru, fuckin me s-so so good.” you turned your head to look at him to the best of your ability, feeling slight better as his words might’ve seen composed but his face and chest were flushed the prettiest shade of red, his chest heaving like he just ran a marathon
“yeah? fuckin ur pussy that good? tell me more baby, tell me how good ‘m makin you feel,” not suprised gojos love of praise transferred into the bedroom, you indulged him
“dick ‘s so big toru,” you cried out, “feel you in my tummy,” your jaw dropped as his cockhead kissed your cervix, making your eyes roll back in your head
“fucckkk,” he clenched his teeth together, leaning over you and pressing his sweaty chest to your back, reaching his big palm for your face as he crashes your lips together, a kiss full of need
how the fuck was he a virgin? no one has ever gotten you this close, this fast
he pushes his tongue into your mouth, fingers spelling his name messily on your clit, cock fucking your gspot like he has a personal vendetta against you
“‘m gunna cum pretty, u close? huh? tell me ur close, gotta feel you cum on me first.” his filthy words has the coil in ur belly tightening steadily, “wan u to choke me ‘toru please.” you manage to get out, right on the edge of your orgasm
“i got you baby,” he wraps his massive hand over your throat, almost completely enveloping it, and he squeezes at the perfect strength, coil in ur tummy snapping as your pussy pulses and swueezed round his pretty cock
“oh god, he pulls back from the kiss and whines, thrusts becoming erratic, loosing his pace, “squeezin so tight, haaa-“ his jaw is completely slack, eyes screwed shut before his orgasm follows, right behind you
“yesss give it to me toru,” you smile against his slack jaw, and he’s never sounded as pretty as he does right now, cumming so hard, fucking his come as deep as he can into you, some spilling out around his dick as his large figure collapses onto your back
“toru…ur fuckin heavy.” strength in your arms completely gone as you try and fail to wiggle him off you, realizing that the strength in the rest of your body has completely abandoned you as well
“js… jus- gimmie a second, please,” all teasing in his voice completely gone, he’s still inside you and you feel his cock twitch every so often as his breath hitches against your neck
you let his weight press down on you for a couple seconds, letting him regain his own strength
“never cum that hard in my life, think i just died for a second.” he says, lifting himself off of you and sliding his softening cock covered in your combined cum, out of you
you wince at how sensitive you are, groaning as he wipes you down with his discarded shirt, “sorry heh, got a little carried away,” he giggles at your protests
coming up on your side and wrapping his arms around your figure, burring his face into your neck, peppering kisses there
“soo,” he purses his lips, lifting his head a bit to get a good view of your face, “any feedback?”
“cant feel my body, you virgin freak.” you sigh, wrapping your arms around the ones encasing yourself, “how did you just fuck me an inch from my life and you’ve really never had sex before??” you ask your boyfriend in disbelief
“porn :p” he cheeses into ur neck
“i’m gonna forget you said that.”
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sunarc · 7 months
Note
there reaction when they walked in Y/N humping there pillow and yn gets all embarrassed. love degrading shit sm
add Suna. Sakusa and Kuroo or else 🧍🏻‍♀️
I felt like I was being held at gunpoint to make this without a gun LMAOOOOO but i hope you enjoy love. this sparked something in me idk i haven't written for haikyuu in a minute felt good lol
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Suna
۵Suna finds it funny that you think you can get yourself off without him.
۵He’ll watch as you whimper and whine, rocking your hips desperately against a pillow for a little, only because the sight is just so pretty to him.
۵When he finally announces his presence, he will tease you so much, telling you how you’re so filthy, getting yourself off like this. His words are so lewd, and the look in his eyes exhibits pure lust.
۵Since you enjoy riding so much, he’ll make you ride his cock until you’re begging him to take control.
“Come one doll, ride my cock, how you were riding that pillow,” His teasing voice fills your ears. 
You feel like your legs are going to fall off with how long he has had you riding him. His hand sits on your hips, lazily rocking your hips back and forth. He has an almost bored look on his face as he’s watching you whimper about how you need him. 
“You need me?” He says it incredulously. “If you needed me so badly, why were you fucking that pillow like a pathetic little slut?” 
Suna can’t even believe the jealousy running through his veins at the moment. Jealous of a pillow? How could you possibly think anything in the world could please you more than him?
"No, Rin, it's not-” Your words are cut off by a choked-out moan when Suna bucks his hips upward into you. 
This is your punishment. You want to find pleasure in something that isn't him? Then you’ll have to work for your orgasm. 
"Aww, baby, I know you can do better than that.” His taunting fueled you.
You bounced and rocked your hips on him faster, desperate to please him. You craved his praise, something he rarely gave you in bed, so hearing it would feel like everything. 
Suna’s eyes stared at you, filled with pure lust. You almost felt shy under his dark gaze. 
“You want me to help you cum?” His silky words filled your ears. 
You nodded your head eagerly.
“Yes, please, yes. I need you, Rin,” you begged.
“Then show me how fucking bad you want it.”
Sakusa
۵He would be fucking fuming when he sees you riding a pillow. How dare you try to touch yourself when he’s not around? 
۵He can’t understand how you could possibly find pleasure in fucking a pillow when his cock is always yours for the taking.
۵You look so needy and desperate calling his name. Don’t stop just because he’s here; give him a show while you're at it.
۵He will get nice and comfortable making eye contact as you nervously ride the pillow, saying the most degrading, nasty things.
“Don’t get shy with me now. You were just whining my name. Tell me how good it feels, baby.”
You were rocking back and forth on a pillow, trying to keep eye contact with him. You let out small whimpers as he stared at you with a deadpan look, giving you demands. You let out a short whine as you turned away, feeling embarrassment flood through you. 
"Omi, please,” you whimpered. You needed his touch. He had been watching you fail to make yourself cum with a menacing smirk. 
“What did I say? Keep those eyes on me,” he groaned. 
His hand was stroking his cock slowly as he stared at you. Your eyes watched his movements, wishing it could be you touching him. Just the thought of his cock stretching you out had your cunt drooling so much on the pillow below.
“Now tell me, how good does it feel? Better than my cock?” He questioned you with a head tilt.
“N-no of course not.” you whimpered “Nothing's better than you.” You whine. 
Your desire for him only grows more and more as the seconds pass. You're practically trembling at the thought of having him. 
“Really? Then why were you fucking yourself like a slut on my pillow? Nothing’s better than me, though, right?” His voice is laced with anger.
You let out a loud cry of his name “I’m sorry. Please, can I have you? It won’t happen again, I promise." Your pleas were like music to his ears. He groaned, stroking himself at a faster pace.
“If you can make yourself cum within,” he said, looking at his watch. "Hmm, I’m thinking the next 5 minutes, then I fuck you way better than this flimsy pillow ever could.”
Kuroo
۵The excitement that runs through this man when he sees you is almost terrifying.
۵He has this menacing grin watching you hump a pillow, desperately calling his name.
۵Kuroo has rules, and his number one rule is: no touching yourself when he’s not around, so of course, he has to punish you for breaking his rule.
۵You wanted to cum, so as the perfect lover that he is, he is more than willing to help you cum since you want it so bad. He can’t help but laugh at the way you’re crying, saying it’s too much, he’s only trying to help you.
Kuroo’s hips slammed into yours, pressing himself so deep into you that you could only roll your eyes back and moan slurred versions of his name. He cooed at your desperate calls for his name while your tongue lulled out, mindlessly drooling on yourself.
“Such a fucking needy thing, aren’t you?” He laughed softly as he plunged himself into you. 
He dragged his cock in and out of you at a quickened pace, groaning loudly at the way you helplessly laid face first into the bed as he held you from behind with a tight grip around your waist. 
“I can’t believe you’re in here fucking some pillow when I can make you feel so much better,” he let out a breathy groan. 
Adrenalin was rushing through him as he fucked you through your fourth orgasm. You were trembling so much that you were barely able to hold yourself up. You felt weak, but with the way Kuroo’s hips continued ramming into you mercilessly, you knew there was no stopping him anytime soon. 
“‘ 't's t-too much,” your whines filled the room, sounding like music to his ears. 
“It's too much?” he asked with a teasing tone. “But, you were just fucking this pillow whining about how you wanted to cum, I’m only giving my baby what they so desperately wanted.”
There’s anger laced in his voice. He can’t believe you dared to think you could touch yourself without any consequences. His hand moved to wrap around your neck while his thrust continued its brutal pace. 
“Just let me help you, baby. I promise I'll make you think twice before touching yourself when I'm not around”
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her-favorite · 3 months
Text
WHAT A BRAT!; M. STURNIOLO
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BRATTY!SUB!MATT STURNIOLO X F!READER
warnings: SMUT (obvi), mommy kink, spanking, sex tape, strap sucking, degrading, overstimulation, and an excessive amount of usage of the word brat!
a/n: this is only my second time writing hc’s so hopefully they’re not total trash 😭 you guys liked my sub!brat!matt blurb that i posted (thank you all sm for the love on it btw!!) soo here’s some hc’s while i try and think of (and/or wait for some requests - guys im begging) other stuff for brat!sub!matt !!
SYNOPSIS: headcannons of bratty sub matt!
@mattybsgroupie <33
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brat!matt who: gives you attitude just so he can be punished..
“Oh my god, can you just be quiet?” Matt huffs as he rolls his eyes. He had been giving you attitude all day: ignoring you, rolling his eyes at you, scoffing whenever you spoke to one of his brothers.
“Excuse me?” You furrow your eyebrows irritably. Your eyes pick up on the way the ends of his lips curl up slightly at your aggravated reaction. Your mind puts it together as it clicks in your head. Standing up from your spot on the couch, you make your way in between his legs.
Matt looks up at you as you situate yourself in front of him. Your hand reaches out and grasps his chin, locking his eyes on yours. “Are you that fucking desperate you need to act like a brat all day just for me to fuck you?” You sneer.
Internally, Matt cheers as you degrade him, but on the outside, he visibly backs into the couch. His jeans get tighter as an insatiable need grows inside his body.
He was in for it tonight.
brat!matt who: wants others to believe he’s in control because he’s embarrassed that he’s the one under your mercy in the bedroom..
Matt points to his necklace that sat on the dining room table. “Can you get that for me, ma?” He asks with a smile as he sits on the soft couch. A few of the triplets’ friends were over, though he keeps his attention on you.
Normally, you would gladly grab it and give it to him, but you could tell he was doing this for show. As your jaw clenches, you step towards the table and pick it up. Making your way back towards him, you stand behind the couch as you bring the small chain around his neck.
“Thanks, mama.” Matt smirks as you click the clasp. He knew what he was doing calling you that.
Leaning down, you whisper in his ear, “you’re asking for it, brat.” You squeeze his shoulders before leaning up and walking away to his room, his eyes following your form as he swallows harshly.
brat!matt who: will refuse to beg, even though he knows that if he doesn’t, he won’t get what he wants..
“Fuck!” Matt moans as his back arches slightly off the bed. Your hand that grasped him tightly stroked in a fast motion as the knot inside Matt’s stomach tightens.
“You close, sweetheart?” You coo mockingly, smirking as you look at his fucked-out expression. His eyebrows furrowed as his lips have been parted this entire time, pink, swollen lips on display. His eyes had been scrunched shut until you had spoken. With a fervent nod, Matt agrees. “Yeah? Beg for it.” You demand, your hand moving faster.
“Shit! N..No, don’t want to!” He whines, shaking his head slightly against the satin pillowcase behind his head.
“You sure? If you don’t beg.. you don’t cum.” You threat, removing your head entirely from his cock. Pre-cum leaked down his tip as he whimpers as his impending orgasm begins to fade.
“N-no! Don’t stop!” Matt cries.
brat!matt who: cries when you spank him, but doesn’t even think about calling out his safe word..
“Mommy, it h.. hurts!” Matt cries out, his body jutting forward from the force of your slap. A mark of your handprint formed red on his pale skin, the sight making you smile.
“Aw, does it?” You pout. “Maybe if you weren’t misbehaving today, you wouldn’t need to be punished.” You spit, your hand smacking down again as another cry leaves Matt’s pink lips.
His skin was already sensitive from the several slaps you have given him, only seeming to get redder and more sore as time went by. Tears slipped from his eyes and down his flushed cheeks, hiccuping occasionally whenever you gave him a particularly rough slap.
“Stop! It hurts, mommy!” Matt cries, sputtering. The reddened skin stung even when you didn’t touch it.
“You know your safe word.” You tell him.
Matt’s head shakes against the soft pillow. “Mmph - no! No, don’t need it.” He whimpers.
brat!matt who: is a sucker for overstimulation, but claims he can handle it because he has too much pride to say otherwise..
Matt’s loud whines echo through his room as you ride him, your skin slapping together. His small, bitten fingernails dig into your hips, his chest heaving. He had already came several times tonight, but he was not backing down until you did.
“You okay, baby?” You ask breathlessly, your thrusts never faltering. Your thighs clench, but aren’t able to touch as they reside beside Matt’s waist.
Matt nods, swallowing dryly as his Adam’s apple bobs. “Mhm.. ‘s’sensitive, mommy.” He slurs, pussy drunk as you keep up your rhythm on top of him. Matt couldn’t get enough of the way your pussy wraps around his cock, sucking the life out of him. His thighs shook slightly from his previous orgasms, but he wasn’t even close to prying you off of him.
“You love me using your cock, huh?” You mock, your breasts moving with your actions. Matt’s mouth salivates as his blue eyes watch them move, his hands aching to feel them under his palms.
He whines as he nods, his chest heaving from the sensitivity. “Mm, love it, mommy.” Matt mumbles, his stomach tightening as it warns him of another upcoming release. “M-mommy! I’m gonna - fuck!” He cries out, a tear or two falling down the crease of his eyes as he shuts them tightly, his legs shaking as he’s milked dry. He heaves as he moans. “It hurts!” He cries, more tears spilling down.
“You want me stop, sweetheart?” You coo, slowing your movements. You’ve dragged so many orgasms out of him tonight, you were sure he wouldn’t be able to handle another.
Though, despite your beliefs, he shakes his head. Hiccuping, he whines out, “No! Feels’so good.” He mingles his words together as he slurs, another guttural groan leaving his lips.
brat!matt who: loves eating you out, despite him wanting to not follow your rules..
Matt’s warm tongue skillfully licks through your folds, your wetness eagerly making its way onto his inviting tongue. He moans at the taste as he fervently laps at your pussy, needing your taste in his mouth.
A moan leaves your lips at his actions. “Matt,” you call out breathlessly. “So good, baby.” You praise, your hand clutching his hair as he whines from the pressure.
As much as Matt wants to disobey you - just for the repercussions of his actions - the taste of you mixed with your words make his mind go fuzzy. Mindlessly, his hips thrust into the mattress underneath you both as his tip leaks with need. Just eating you out could get him off.. as embarrassing as it was.
Your hips subconsciously buck up into his lips, craving more of his tongue. Matt knew how to please you, you taught him all he needed to know and where you felt the most pleasure.
Sucking on your clit, Matt’s tongue lathers the sensitive area eagerly. His fingernails dig into the substantial skin on your thighs, leaving deep half-moon marks. His hips don’t stop their movement, even though, once you find out what’s doing, he knows he’s gonna be punished for it.. but he doesn’t care. Taking care of you like this, bringing you pleasure, brings him pleasure as well. And he just couldn’t stop.
brat!matt who: acts out in public so you can take him then and there… though, he’d deny it if you were to ask him if he liked the feeling of being so exposed..
“Such a fucking brat.” You sneer as you ride him, your nails digging into his shoulders. Matt whimpers at your words, as well as the stinging feeling of your nails causing marks into his skin. “You like being fucked in public, huh? You want everyone to hear how good mommy makes you feel?” You taunt.
“Mmm, no!” He whines, shaking his head. The both of you knew he was lying - he was absolutely horrible at trying to lie, anyway.
Your skin slaps down harder, the recognizable noise echoing through the one person bathroom. Matt looked up at you with an agape mouth, eyebrows furrowed slightly from pleasure as his blue eyes never faltered from watching you. Matt knew he was misbehaving, that’s why you brought him in here: to fuck him. He’d never admit the way he loves how your moans - mixed with his - bounce off of the white walls, or the way you degrade him for being such a whore.
“Feels good, mommy!” Matt whines, sniffling.
“Yeah? I’m sure it does, since you were being such a slut earlier.. touching mommy in public.” You click your tongue disapprovingly, looking down at him as you keep your rhythm.
Matt whimpers at your words, his cheeks flushing even more. He knew not to tease you, let alone in public.. but it got him here, so..
brat!matt who: has wandering hands and will sometimes try to push your head down while sucking him off..
Your tongue licks up his cock as a gasp leaves his swollen lips. He whimpers as your lips curl around his tip, focusing on the leaking area with soft licks.
“Mm, fuck, mama!” Matt moans, his chest already rising and falling faster than usual. His hands frantically clutch at the blanket underneath him, long fingers wrapping into the soft fabric tightly.
Matt had been good today, which had surprised you. With that in mind, you decided to reward him.
As your lips glide down further, it becomes harder to take all of him in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around, Matt groans at the feeling, his eyes shutting. You always knew the right way to make his legs shake and to give him the utmost pleasure.
Whimpering incoherent babbles as you suck in your cheeks, Matt’s hand mindlessly moves away from grasping the blanket and travels down to your head. Pushing down, another short gasp leaves his lips before his eyes shoot open as you bring your head back up and away from his aching cock.
“Wha - what’re you doin’, mommy?” Matt whines, looking up at you as he lays down on his soft bed.
“You need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself.”
His eyes widen as he realizes what he did. There goes his reward..
brat!matt who: is too embarrassed to tell you, but would love to record you giving him a punishment.. or just fucking in general..
“You like this, huh?” You scoff, your finger zooming in the camera on his tear-stained face. “Being filmed.” You add on, shaking your head. Your hands reach down again as they stroke his sensitive, needy cock as it leaks down onto your hand.
“Mommy!” Matt cries out, his cheeks flushing more than they already were, the tips of his ears heating up. It was humiliating the way he loved it. “Please, it hurts!” He whines, hiccuping. His tip was sore as it begged for release, sensitive to your teasing. Matt had been close to coming several times before you pulled your hand away, ridding him of the euphoria.
You glide the camera down, soaking in his entire body, down to his dick. The lens picked up the way his chest heaved as well as the twitching his cock occasionally did. A smirk curls on your lips as you watch him, not laying your hands on him as he continues to whine for you.
“Aw, it hurts?” You coo, pouting. “Poor baby’s so desperate.” You mock, ghosting your fingertips over his thigh, noticing the way it immediately tenses at the barely there touch.
“Stop!” Matt cries, more than humiliated. Despite his beseech, his cock only gets needier at your teasing, pleading for more. Your ears pick up the way Matt sniffles as a few loose tears stray away from his pretty eyes.
“You wanna cum?” You ask, tilting your head. With an instant nod from Matt, you chuckle at his urgency. “Then you’ll cum.” You warn, your hand wrapping around him as you quickly stroke him, his loud groan filling the room.
The mic picked up the sloppy sounds as well as his moans, sniffles and whines reverberating throughout the small room.
And it was all on camera.
brat!matt who: gets teased 24/7 by his brothers when they hear his noises from their rooms at night..
After a particularly rough night of punishing Matt, the both of you are beyond exhausted.
Breathlessly, you two lay on Matt’s bed as sleep invades your spent bodies, too tired to move. Once you gather up enough courage, you sit up with a huff. With an immediate whine from Matt, he tosses a heavy arm around your waist, keeping you there.
Chuckling softly at his actions, you turn to look at him. “Gonna clean us up, okay?” You mumble, brushing away some hair from his eyes. Matt grumbles quietly at the implication of you leaving - even if it was just for ten seconds. Despite that, he nods.
You kiss his hair before throwing your legs over the side of the bed, searching around for something to throw on instead of roaming around the triplets’ house naked. A groan invades your ears as you turn to look at him. “What?”
“My fucking brothers.” Matt complains, hiding his face with a large hand. Turning his phone, he shows you the screen. Walking back over to the bed, you laugh as you read the text messages.
Nick: can you stfu?? im trying to watch rupaul stupid fuck
Chris: dude i get it ur getting some rn but u need to be quiet ur pissing me off
“That’s what you get for being so loud.” You chuckle.
“You tell me to be!”
brat!matt who: loves sucking your strap.. after you make him suck up his pride..
“C’mon, be a good boy, Matt.” You coax, looking down at him.
Matt resides on his knees, completely bare, as he looks up at you with those eyes. He licks his chapped lips as his eyes rake over your body, clad in a bra and the strap you had clipped to yourself.
Had you not have brought the idea up to him a few weeks ago, Matt wouldn’t have even thought of it. But, now, as he kneels in front of you with the dildo before his eyes, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t excite him.
“There you go.. doin’ so good.” You coo as his pink lips wrap around it, his eyes looking up at you. The feeling was foreign and strange, but as he made eye contact with you, it made his cock leak with desperation.
Slowly making his way down, his mouth begins to get used to the mold. He whimpers against it, the tip almost touching the back of his throat as tears start to coat his eyes. As he starts to move back, your hand reaches down and stops him.
“Did I say you could move?” You question, your fingers tightening in his soft curls. Matt shakes his head slightly, as much as he can with his mouth full.
Your hips begin to move, slowly at first, not wanting to overwhelm him with the already unusual feeling. With pleading eyes, Matt looks up at you as some tears fall involuntarily. As your hips start to pick up the pace, the sound of a gag fills the room, mixing with the slurping of his saliva.
Pulling your hips back, you remove the dildo from his mouth as your hand softly caresses the back of his hair instead of pulling it. The string of spit from the tip to his lips could’ve made you cum alone.
“You okay, baby?” You ask softly. Truthfully, you hadn’t meant to make him gag, and since it was his first time, you didn’t want to push him too far.
“More, mommy, please.” Matt all but begs you, his hands gripping your thighs as he looks up at you with big, submissive eyes. A smirk curls on your lips at his words.
He was gonna get what he wanted and more.
brat!matt who: is extremely needy whenever you’re busy..
You’re on a call with your boss as you both discuss your work schedule, time slowly ticking by.
As you sat on the couch, you converse with her as you both begin to come to an agreement. The cushion dips beside you, though you pay no mind to it. A soft, almost inaudible whine sounds from next to you, a noise you wouldn’t have heard if you didn’t know it so well.
Your eyes glance over to Matt as he presses into your side, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh. He dry humps you as his head invades your space, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“Matt, I’m busy.” You whisper, not wanting your boss to hear. Matt shake his head slightly at your dismissive words, grinding his hips harder into your thigh.
“Need you now, mommy.” He whines, apparently not caring about who cares. Your free hand quickly moves up to cover his lips so he can’t speak anymore.
After a minute or two, you end the call as you throw your phone down beside you, glaring over at him. “Really? You needed me that bad you had to interrupt my call with my boss?” You taunt, furrowing your eyebrows.
After practically ripping off each others clothes, you ride Matt on his couch. Several orgasms are taken from him as he cries out.
“Can’t - can’t anymore! ‘M’so sensitive, mommy!” He sniffles, his nose red as his eyes shut tightly. Your hips don’t stop as they continue their abuse, the loud smacking sound echoing through the - thankfully - empty house.
“But you needed this so bad, Matt. Take it.”
brat!matt who: will start crying from how good it feels, but will be embarrassed from his state of euphoria..
Tears freely escaped Matt’s eyes as the overwhelming feeling of pleasure takes over his mind and body.
His legs shake as he moans amply, not thinking twice on who might hear. His back arches as his eyebrows furrow, blue eyes hiding as they scrunch firmly shut. His pale chest heaves as rides out the euphoria, letting out one more moan before his body goes limp.
Matt’s cheeks flush as the room becomes quiet without his sounds. You quickly notice the way he grows sheepish, your hand moving up to cup his cheek softly, caressing the skin.
“Love your noises, baby. You did so good f’me.” You praise, leaning down to kiss his abdomen before trailing them up his chest. Matt smiles tiredly at your sweet words, feeling his stomach flutter.
brat!matt who: after a long night, likes to take comfort in your tits..
“M’tired.” Matt mumbles as he eagerly accepts your open arms invitation.
Resting his head on your chest, his nose digs into the smushed skin of your breasts as you lay down on your back. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his face gets trapped in the pillowy skin.
With his head turned, his ear listens to your heartbeat as his slowly begins to sync with yours. The rhythmic sound only makes him sleepier as he yawns against your soft skin.
“Go to sleep, baby.” You reply quietly, exhaustion also taking over your limbs. Your hand gently cards through his hair as it lulls him to sleep.
With a sweet kiss to the skin near his lips, he whispers out a, “g’night.” before he lets sleep take over.
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stunie · 2 months
Note
ume would absolutely malfunction if he saw you in a thong/ g-string for the first time
UMEMIYA HAJIME X F!READER! — nsfw ノ explicit smut ノ note: aaa i wrote this right before going to bed !! hope it came out okay >: i loooved this prompt !! thank u sm <3 kissing you ^ ^ mwa
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“W-wait, wait, here?” You ask incredulously, hands frantically yanking the edge of your dress back down as you shift in Umemiya’s lap. You were already in enough of a predicament as it was. the dress you had on was short— maybe a little shorter than you had originally thought. Pulling it too far down your thighs only meant that your tits would show from the top, and pulling it back up to cover them better would have your ass spilling out from underneath instead.
“Just one peek!” He whines, and you whimper when his big palms begin roaming up and down the sides of your waist. “Pretty pretty please?”
He’s leaning closer, close enough to the lightly nip at your ear, and you shudder as soon as his breath fans against your skin. “Mmm, you just look so pretty, baby,” he whispers, strong arms wrapping around your middle to pull you back against him. “And you smell so good. It’s getting a little hard for me to ignore.”
One quick glance at the pleading look in his eyes is all it takes for you to crack.
“F-fine…” you grumble, warmth flooding your cheeks as you tear your gaze away from him. You don’t even have to look his direction to know the cheerful smile he’s giving you in response, and you think it’s pretty easy to tell from the way he’s immediately back to tugging at your dress the second the words leave your mouth.
“But hurry. They can come back at any time..”
He chuckles. “Mhm, don’t you worry. Just one little peek at my girl.”
You’re hesitant when you lean forward on his lap, your hands coming to balance yourself on the table just in front, ass pressing further into his bulge as he pushes your dress up. He hums again, smiling at your embarrassment, but it dies down in an instant, abruptly stopping his movements as soon as he’s met with the unfamiliar laced thong, breath hitching right in his throat at the sight.
He knows for certain you’ve never worn that. He definitely would have remembered.
“Whoa,” his finger loops under the string in wonder, pulling it up as you yelp, ass accidentally pressing harder against him in response. “This one’s new, isn’t it?”
He’s pinching it between his fingers now, pulling it up and down, watching the way you shift uncomfortably each time the fabric catches against your clit.
“Stop that!” You twist your body to weakly swat at his hand, but he’s only yanking it up even higher, the thong slipping deep between your folds as you hiss. “H-Haji!”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, but you tell his jaw is clenched from the way his words sound, a bit deeper and unsteady, and his breaths are suddenly coming out ragged. “Just can’t seem to help myself.”
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bruisedboys · 9 months
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i love ur writing sm 🥹 since we got jealous!finnick can we get jealous!reader and how finnick reacts to it? ❤️
“Baby, come on.” Finnick follows you out of the glass elevator, almost jogging to catch up with your angry march. You speed up pointedly. “What did I do?”
“Nothing, Finnick,” you say sharply, without looking at him. The entire elevator ride was heavy with your silent irritation. You don’t want to talk about it, obviously.
“Well, why are you acting like I did?” Finnick presses.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You— sweetheart.” Finnick snags your wrist and pulls you back. You scowl, annoyed at being pushed around. You struggle in his grip but he only grabs your other wrist, holding you still. It’s times like this that you hate having such a muscular boyfriend.
“Come on,” he says, practically begging with you now. “What’s the matter? I don’t understand why you’re so mad.”
“It’s nothing,” you say through your teeth, still struggling against his grip.
Finnick rolls his eyes and holds you tighter, his fingers digging into your wrists. “Is this about Johanna?”
“What?” You falter in your attempts to escape. It is about Johanna, actually. You’d rather he didn't know that, though. “Why would it be about Johanna?”
Even to your own ears your incredulity sounds fake, your voice a notch too high. Finnick stares at you hard and you look away, burning hot under his gaze. Big mistake.
“So it is about her?” he asks slowly. You can hear the knowing smirk in his voice.
“I don’t—“ you stammer, desperately trying to string together a lie that’s not as embarrassing as the truth. You stare at him and his awful grin for a few seconds, fuming. Then, “Fine, yes, it’s about Johanna. She wouldn’t leave you alone!”
“We talked for ten minutes, honey,” Finnick says, measured to your frantic. “You know she’s just a friend.”
“She called you handsome and then winked at you,” you say, mortified, your act completely forgotten. "What am I supposed to think about that?"
You realise your mistake too late — you’ve given yourself away. You’re about to take it back in an attempt to save yourself from an onslaught of teasing when Finnick laughs.
“So you’re saying I’m not handsome?” He asks, eyebrows raised.
Bastard. You hate him, you swear.
“Never mind,” you say bluntly. “Whatever.”
You twist out of his grasp and stalk off. You’re still absolutely rolling in annoyance when you get to yours and Finnick’s shared room. You get as far as the entryway before Finnick’s on you again like a hawk. He grabs you while you're sliding your shoes off and pushes you none too gently against the nearest wall.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Sure you are. You just laughed at me!" You say incredulously, hitting him in the chest.
“Because you’re being silly, darling," Finnick says. Somehow, he makes it sound affectionate. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. "Johanna’s a friend. How can you think I’d ever look at anyone else that way when I have you, hm? I’m yours forever, sweet girl."
You blink at him. What is his problem? He laughs at you for being jealous and then says something as life ruining as that? He’s gonna be the death of you one day.
"You really need to stop saying things like that,” you say weakly.
Finnick tilts his head to the side, a knowing look in his ocean eyes. “Why’s that?”
You glare. “You know why.”
Finnick just laughs. “You’re adorable.”
You’re about to tell him to shut up when he kisses you, too fast for you to see it coming, too lovely for you to stop it. His mouth is warm. He tastes like wine. You forget you’re angry at him. When he’s kissing you like this, you have no reason to be jealous. You guess you never really did.
“I’m sorry,” you say when he pulls away. His kiss has unravelled you. Sucked away all your anger and hot jealousy. “For being so mad at you. S’not your fault.”
"It's okay," Finnick tells you, shrugging. He dips down to kiss you again. You push up on your toes to reciprocate his heat, your hand pushing up to love on the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s pulling back before either of you can get too carried away, a smug smile on his pretty mouth as he says, “Jealousy looks good on you, baby."
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it 🤍
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honeydazai · 1 year
Text
୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  ꜰɪʟᴍɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴇx ᴛᴀᴘᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ 𝆬 𓏸
feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma, Mushitarō, Jōno, Tetchō, Tachihara
❥ content: f!reader, nsfw, filming/photographing during sex, (rough) oral sex (giving and receiving), facials, degradation, possessiveness, breeding, outdoor sex, mild spanking
❥ this was commissioned by beloved @queenquixotic yippiiie i love you sm thank you again!!! 💜
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The second you bring the idea up to DAZAI, he's honestly all for it. Really, who's he to complain when you want to film parts of your sex life? He's absolutely unashamed, too; no kink is too wild for him to capture on camera, no position is too revealing. His absolute favourite, however, is whenever he gets to hold the phone you're recording with, tilted downwards to get a good angle at you — first with your pretty lips wrapped around his dick, then with your face covered in his cum.
It'd be a relief if he knew when to stop running his mouth — or, well, at least that's what you tell yourself; the way your cunt's dripping wet between your thighs while his cum drips down the bridge of your nose tells another story.
“That's a nice shot, bella; my, you're so photogenic. Just look up — that's right, good girl. Now, why don't you lie down and spread those legs for me, hm? I need to get on camera just how wet you are already.”
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While CHŪYA doesn't mind the idea — he has to admit he thinks of it as hot, even —, his cheeks still flush with heat when he nods, agreeing. Even though the mere thought flusters him, he doesn't hesitate to lie down between your legs, pushing your thighs apart with calloused fingers digging into soft skin and, really; by then, he cares more about your pretty cunt rather than the camera still recording you both.
You're all but mewling by the time his tongue flattens against your wet folds, struggling to hold onto your phone until, eventually, he's quick to put it down on the nightstand so you're able to grab red hair between your fingers. He knows just how to make you arch your back off the mattress and, hah, he already knows that's going to make for a nice shot. When he eventually pulls back, his lips curl into a smirk, saliva and your arousal alike dripping down his chin as he briefly gazes at the camera and, well — he wouldn't mind you returning the favour.
“You're so pretty, babe. Especially when you fall apart because of my tongue so easily. Hah, now, what do you think will be a better shot; you sucking me off or should I bend ya over and fuck you properly? Hm, baby?”
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FYODOR's views certainly are rather traditional. It takes a lot of begging to convince him of your idea in the first place, though he mostly just means to tease you by denying you for so long. As long as the video stays between the two of you only, and he'll make sure that it will, he doesn't mind it. But, unfortunately, he's also a busy man, meaning he won't see it as necessary to move from in front of his many monitors to basically create pornography with you.
You're stuck warming his cock until he decides he's done and, well, a longer wait does make for a better reward, does it not? Unbeknownst to you, the camera's already on, watching the way you squirm and whimper in his lap. Later, he's got you in a mating press with the intent to fill you up, to breed you, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment when he angles the camera just so to film the way his cum drips out of your cunt.
“My, my, what a mess you are making, dear. The camera is going to record it all, remember? Perhaps you should clench some more. If you don't manage to keep it inside, though, I will just have to help you, hm? We did buy toys just for this occasion, after all.”
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You don't seriously believe that NIKOLAI will be anything but overjoyed at your idea, now do you? He's scrambling to get a camera before you're able to elaborate and, a mere thirty minutes later, you're on your knees, your clothing strewn across the floor, your hands pushing your own tits together while his dick thrusts in between them. Your skin glistens with precum, and it's an absolutely perfect picture when you, albeit a little hesitantly, stick your tongue out to give a kitten lick to his tip. He's all too glad he's got that on camera forever.
His gleeful chuckles and giggles are only interrupted by the occasional moan when you squeeze tighter and, honestly, you can't help but squirm in place in need, your own arousal covering your inner thighs by now. For a moment, you're tempted to sneak a hand between your own legs, the thought of rubbing your throbbing clit tempting, but you're all too sure Nikolai has something planned for you already. Perhaps it'll even involve the video; an idea like fucking you properly while you're watching this exact moment on video is rather likely.
“Ah, look at you, look at you; you're so eager, hm? That's so cute. Come on, stick your tongue out again, yeah? I'll come soon, 'm close already, dove; want me to do it on your face or tits, hm? What's gonna show up nicer on camera, what do you think?”
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There are no words to describe properly just how flustered the idea alone causes SIGMA to feel, though, well — he's never been good at denying you anything. While it takes a bit of convincing for him to prop up a camera the next time you're getting intimate with each other, he doesn't even seem to remember it by the time he sinks into you, your tight heat squeezing his dick so well he forgets everything but your name, which falls from his lips all too often.
Despite not actively trying, lewd moans and barely coherent strings of praise leave his mouth when he sets a slow but steady rhythm, his narrow hips slapping against your plush ones. He's putting on a show without even meaning to, the camera recording his every passionate thrust, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat until he eventually comes inside of you, panting. If you ever want to watch the video with him, his cheeks flush pink the moment you press 'play'.
“Ah—, you're so tight, God; you always feel heavenly when you're around me. And—, hah, you're so pretty, too. Absolutely breathtaking, and—, ah, and you're all mine, yes? Say it, please. Say you're mine, just like I'm yours.”
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Even though MUSHITARŌ is awfully embarrassed by your idea — he's blushing and sputtering, feeling offended and flattered alike —, he's all too easily convinced when you sink down onto his lap, your smile all too confident. The red light on the camera is on, indicating it's recording already, and he's all too aware of it, though he suddenly finds it difficult to focus on anything but you when your wet heat sinks down on his, notably already hard, dick.
He's left utterly defenseless; really, what can he do but moan and whimper when you all but bounce on his lap, his hands uselessly squeezing your hips, his eyebrows drawn together and eyes squeezed shut? You're all too good at this and you both know it; even though all eloquence leaves him when your wet walls pulse around his dick, everything necessary is conversed through high-pitched mewls and whines — both yours and his. In the end he might be too shy to ever watch the video with you.. though you might just be able to convince him otherwise.
“God, ah, that's good, please, don't stop, dear, I'm close already, so close. May I—, fuck, may I come inside? You feel so good, so good around me, ah, hot and tight and—, please—”
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JŌNO's smile is awfully smug when you first meekly voice your idea, but, really, who is he to deny you? He doesn't mind it at all when you prop your phone up to get a good angle of your side profile before sinking down onto your knees and closing your lips around his cock, gently sucking on the tip before sinking down further.
If you believe he's kind about your depravity, however, you're thoroughly mistaken; demeaning and teasing words leave his mouth with such ease that it seems like you're barely sucking him off at all. His hand finds it's way into your hair, grabbing at soft strands and pulling you closer until your gag reflex kicks in, tears welling up in your eyes and whimpers falling from spit-slicked lips.
“What a terribly lewd idea you had, love. Ah, but the aspect of me filming you in such a situation seems to quite excite you, hm? You're so eager today. Careful, now; you'll end up choking, and I did say I won't let you come if you have to pull off, did I not?”
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Honestly, TETCHŌ merely shrugs when you propose the idea to him. He doesn't care that much either way; if you're interested in that, he's fine with it. He's not the kind to put on some act while on camera, though, luckily, you don't want him to, either — it works perfectly fine when you both moan when, finally, he sinks inside of you after bending you over the closest flat surface; in your current case, the dinner table.
Rough grunts and raspy groans leave his mouth when he thrusts into you, his pace so hard you're afraid the table's going to crash underneath you, and you wouldn't be able to stifle your high-pitched whines even if you tried to. Dirty talk isn't something he bothers with too much; if anything, he moans about how good you feel when you clench so tightly around him and, occasionally, he snickers as you flinch when his hand comes down hard on your ass.
“Fuck, that's good. You're so damn tight, feels fuckin' heavenly. Ah—, God. Hah, can't wait to see what you look like on video. Can't be better than the real thing for sure.”
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TACHIHARA's eyebrows raise in surprise when you tell him what exactly you'd like to try, though, as long as the video stays between the two of you, he himself is surprised to find that he doesn't mind it at all. The first time you do it after you've suggested it isn't planned; he simply grabs his phone from his pocket after pushing you against a wall, camera angled just right so that it gets a good shot of the way your pussy clenches around his dick while he thrusts into you almost erratically.
The sound of skin slapping against skin, paired with lewd squelching noises, makes your cheeks flush with heat, and you're only grateful that he's focused on recording your cunt rather than your face. You're biting down on your bottom lip, trying hard to stifle your moans and mewls given how you're still in public, but, really, your voice is still heard loud and clear on the video, as are his own raspy groans. The video is blurry, really, but you both enjoy watching it afterwards, especially when his hand sneaks underneath your shirt again.
“Fuck—, fuck, you're so damn tight. God, you feel so good around me. Hah, we gotta be quiet, huh? Would suck to be caught like this. We're in public, after all, baby. Though, well—, I do love the way your voice sounds. Kinda wanna get it on video.”
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notes: a reminder that my commissions are open!! please dm me! 🌸 also, i really ache to write full fics/drabbles again; hopefully i'll get to that soon!! 🫶🏻
tags: @pigeons-are-rad @cicada-teeth @dzaixchuu @hanakotheghost @shinwifexx @rhaeena @moonssandstars @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @alicesblog @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @Irethepotato @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann
@Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore
@ItsSara-chan @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646 @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur
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reverie-starlight · 5 months
Text
{the proposal- kuroo}
on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹
gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.
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“You need to propose to me.”
Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”
You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.
“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”
He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”
“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.
“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”
“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.
Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”
You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.
Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.
(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).
“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.
A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.
“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”
You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.
Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”
Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.
Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”
You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.
“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”
The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”
You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”
Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”
This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”
The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.
You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”
A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.
You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.
He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.
“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”
His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”
You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”
He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.
You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.
So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.
“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”
You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”
“Sleep, baby.”
You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”
You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”
“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”
You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”
You nod as you begin to doze off.
He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.
The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.
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ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3
tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro
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norrizzandpia · 11 months
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i love ur stories sm
can i have like oscar takes off his racesuit and you can see hickeys on his neck and have him not notice until lando tells him about it (like whisper in his ear or something) while hes in the middle of an interview with no way to cover them at that point
I… would do anything for this man.
Cover It Up (OP81)
Summary: That one piece of clothing was hiding so much and Oscar just had to take it off.
Warnings: suggestive themes, Oscar being embarrassed, Lando’s laugh lol, language?
Note: y’all buckle up bc I have absolutely nothing to do today and I want to get through AS MANY requests as I possibly can before having to do school work
After the Qatar Grand Prix, every driver was on the verge of heatstroke. That didn’t miss the two papaya drivers at all. Their faces red and hot, beads of sweat falling quickly off their foreheads, Oscar and Lando wanted nothing to do with the press being shoved in their faces.
However, knowing that wasn’t particularly up to them, they put on their best smiles and nodded as they answered questions they got millions of times. It became too much for Oscar when the big lights shining down on them added to the heat he was already experiencing, becoming overwhelmed with the temperature.
“Can you hold this?” He asked Lando, shoving his water bottle to the boy’s chest.
Lando nodded as he continued listening intently to the interviewer, taking the object in his hands and disregarding the way Oscar turned around and began unzipping the top of his race suit.
“Too hot for you, Oscar?” The reporter giggled.
He laughed along with her as he pulled down the material to hang around his waist, still with his back facing them. Her question and conversing with Lando resumed as Oscar made last minute adjustments and turned back around.
At first, no one noticed as their eyes weren’t on him, more so paying attention to Lando’s response. But, when the conversation turned back to the two of them, the interviewer went silent as did the rest of the crew standing behind her.
Their bulging eyes on his, Oscar’s eyebrows drew together as he gave Lando a quick side glance. Similarly, Lando was incredibly confused by the new silence. That was until his eyes trailed down Oscar’s face to meet the big, purple hickeys painting the top and bottom of his neck.
“Oh… my god.” Lando whispered under his breath. The spots littered Oscar’s throat, the complete opposite of unassuming. There were some below his ears, but the majority of them lay scattered around the base of his neck. It got worse as Lando clocked the way some poked out from his fireproofs, very clearly resting on his collarbone as well.
Oscar frantically looked between Lando and the reporter, wanting impatiently for someone to tell him what was wrong. He was about to frustratedly ask why everyone was ogling him, but his teammate leaning in and whispering in his ear stopped any further movements.
“Mate, I think Y/n might’ve left a few hickeys.” He said, throat clearing at the mention of her name. Frankly, he was so taken aback by the severity of the bruises, not expecting that from the sweet, quiet girl that was Oscar’s girlfriend.
He watched as Oscar’s face fell, completely mortified, and his hands came up to cover his neck.
“Oh, I- um-” He stuttered, his PR manager shaking her head behind him.
“Let me just,” He began as he pulled his suit back on begrudgingly. It was hot, extremely hot, but not enough to sit in front of a group of strangers with the proof of him and his girlfriend’s intimate life on display.
When things were back to normal, hickeys finally covered, yet still lingering in the minds of everyone involved, the reporter hesitantly went on. She was kind enough as to not address it, something which neither made it worse nor better.
He tried to push down the red on his cheeks for the remainder of the interview, but failed as every five seconds images of Y/n sitting on his lap and pulling groans from him when she met the right spot under his ear flashed in his brain.
The interview went on longer than Oscar wanted, its ending warranting him flying from his chair and seeking the safety of his room.
Lando, the poor man, was left behind to exchange a few last words with the reporter, thanking her for her patience and the way she handled the “uncomfortable situation”.
When he trailed back into hospitality alone, Lando found Y/n sitting at one of the tables on her phone. He sat down next to her, smiling mischievously, “Hi, Y/n.”
She looked at him weirdly, “Why do you sound like you know something?”
He chuckled, “Because I do.”
Her eyes widened, “You do? What is it? Did you finally figure out what happened between Charlotte and Charles?”
He laughed, knowing how much she loved their gossiping sessions, but shook his head, “No, I know something about you.”
Her head cocked, “Oh? What is it?”
“You like Oscar’s neck.” His response made her eyebrows draw together.
“What?” She asked, clearly confused.
“Everyone saw the hickeys.” Now, she understood. Her body jumped from her chair and ran off toward the stairs to Oscar’s room, not saying a word in response to Lando.
She reached his room quickly, knocking feverishly on the door, “Oscar, open the door.”
She heard it click and her boyfriend came into view, his face a tomato shade, something she knew didn’t have to do just with the heat.
“What happened?” She asked as he ushered her in.
Locking the door behind them, he tilted his head back to show her his purple neck, “When the fuck did you do this?!”
To be honest, it was worse than she remembered. His throat was, practically, a physical symbol of her attraction to him.
“That had to have been last night.” The bruises were too fresh to be days old.
“That’s what I thought,” He nodded, padding over to the small mirror beside her on the wall and inspecting further.
“Well, the whole world has seen them.” He gave, sighing when her hand trailed the purple mark just below his ear.
She nodded slightly, “You know, I’m not that mad about it. Now, all those girls on the internet can back off.”
His eyebrows raised, “Yeah?” He slid his hands around her waist and kissed her teasingly, “Should I give you some to let the guys on the internet know to back off too?”
Her chuckling was interrupted by a moan when he sucked deeply on the underside of her jaw, “That sounds like a great idea.”
It definitely proved to be a great idea.
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starrydragoness · 4 months
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Hii, i hope this doesnt sound too weird or anything (im really new to requesting), but can i request a safeword scenerio for dr Ratio? Maybe he is uptight because of some idiots he had to deal with, or nervy because of overworking, and in bed he starts to talk and move harsher than usual, making his s/o safewording. If possible please also how he would take care of them afterwards, thank you :D!
A/N: Thank you for your request! I do hope this is what you had in mind :) Implemented some of my own hcs into this, so I do hope Ratio isn't too OOC. I just don't see him as mean or harsh with his s/o as I see some people portray him as- Gosh I can ramble sm about him, I'll stop here. Please send more Dr Ratio asks/requests in, I'd love to ramble about him
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Content: NSFW, mdni! Ratio being a secret sap inside(?), gn reader but can be hinted at female anatomy, no pronouns used
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Fervent thrusts of his hips into yours knocked the air out of your lungs, sending your eyes rolling back into your head as shameless moans flew from your mouth in a torrent. Veritas seemed completely insatiable, groaning into your ear and whispering dirty things.
“You’re so tight, did it take so little to get you all wet and worked up, hm?” It was like he was scolding you.
You could’ve guessed how his day has been, judging solely from the bruising grip he had on your hips. You would’ve asked about it had he not all but cornered you and stolen your breath away with an onslaught of kisses and nips to your neck and chest. Clothes were torn off from you and him all the same, but somewhere along the lines it became apparent his frustration began to blur, work anger seeping into this intimate and vulnerable moment as his hips pistoned into yours with little regard. It wasn’t like him, in all his stubbornness and in all pursuit of knowledge he’d never treat you like a piece of meat. He had made a mess of you, a heap of flailing, boneless limbs and hickeys and bite marks along your collarbone and chest.
A lewd squelch accompanied the slapping of skin as his cock rammed into you. “Ve-Veritas-” you panted, hands moving from around his back to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and leaving behind red crescent moons. “Slow down, ngh-” Those words fell on deaf ears, your moans and small whimpers being the only thing echoing in his mind. One of his big hands unlatched from your hip and came up to your throat, his fingers squeezing lightly on the sides until you felt yourself getting dizzy with pleasure, but it was all too suffocating, too overwhelming and so overstimulating, you felt your heart race and cold sweat break over your skin. 
Veritas groaned into your ear before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, bottoming out inside you over and over and over again until he felt you squeezing his shaft and fluttering around him. 
“Y-Yellow! Yellow!” 
Veritas quickly lost his hold on your neck, his body reacting faster than he had time to process it. All he knew is how uncomfortably tight his throat became when he heard you squeak out the safe word, his whole stomach churning as he pulled away. And only then did he really see how reckless he had become.
Your teary eyes stared up at him, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths to quell the fire within your lungs. You swallowed thickly, averting your gaze in what you could only understand was embarrassment but as he stumbled over wordless questions, his mouth opening and closing as he slid himself out of you and all pleasure forgotten, you couldn’t help but look back at him and open your arms in a silent plea for a hug. "Just hold me.."
He obliged without a second thought, his big arms enveloping you in a warm embrace, but he was hesitant to touch you after hearing the safe word fall from your mouth. 
He rolled onto his side, dragging you with him and letting your curl up against him however you wished as you hid your face in his chest. One arm was safely secure around you while the other hand absentmindedly ran through your hair, soothing your nape in hopes to bring you further comfort.
“My.. dearest.. What have I done? Are you in pain? Did I hurt you?” his tone, much softer and so full of concern, licked at your ears and sent a shiver up your spine. He sounded more hurt than you.
Once you regained your breath you broke away from his chest and looked up at him, all disheveled and messy with eyes still glassy. 
“I’m sorry.. But you were.. quite overwhelming- You came home and you wanted to be intimate, and that’s okay. But you were starting to take out your frustrations on me, Veritas..” you told him earnestly. There were no lies between you, and Aeons knew he’d know if you lied to him. He grimaced at your words, not because you said them, but because he couldn’t believe he allowed himself to fall that low. You felt him huff, felt his warm breath against your skin and he pulled you closer. 
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for- It is me who should be saying so. And I am so sorry.. I.. I don’t know how I lost myself so..” he trailed off, his eyes swallowing you in their plea for forgiveness or perhaps they were telling you to scold him - he really didn’t mind, as in his head, right now he felt as if he betrayed your trust. His facade of perfection crumbled as he gave into these animalistic urges and he hurt you along the way.
Sighing, you pushed yourself up a little until you could peck his cheek. His lashes fluttered as he took in the sight of you, blinking at you before leaning in to press his lips against your, the palm of his hand resting on the small of your back and pressing you against his warm body.
“Are you hurt?” he asked again, looking into your eyes. 
“Sore.. probably gonna turn into a plum later from bruises-” you tried to lighten the mood with that little joke but Veritas instead let out a sound bordering between a sigh and scoff, clicking his tongue as frowned, angry at himself. “I’m sorry…” he whispered as his arms dragged you along with him and his other hand pressed at your nape to pull your head to his lips. One, two, three, four and many more kisses fell all across your face, making their way all around before reaching your lips, upon which he placed the softest of kisses.
“I’m sorry.. I'll.. You stay here while I go and draw us a bath. I’ll be quick” He’d say as he pulled a blanket over you before sliding from underneath you. 
“Don’t forget the bath salts” you smiled, teasing him and holding onto the fingers of his hand, not allowing him to peel himself away from you just yet, and this prompts a smile to tease his lips but he is not yet ready to really forgive himself until he has soothed your bruises away.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes while his cheeks flushed as he pulled away after nodding his head firmly in return
“When have I ever forgotten the precious bath salts?”
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