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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

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Nanami Kento

♡ TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap

♡ FEM reader

You started coming to his home office once a week.

Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face.

But you came around to like him soon enough.

He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started.

And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.

When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.

He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.

Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.

You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.

He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat.

He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.

He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more.

He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.

He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~”

He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off.

It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.

He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.

He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.

“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.

His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.

You take it in with doe eyes.

“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”

You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”

He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”

“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.

“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy.

But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap.

“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.”

He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow.

“There you go, just like that. Good.”

You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.

Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?

You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.

So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...

You'll do it.

You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.

It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.

In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.

“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.

“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”

You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”

“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”

You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly.

He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”

You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.

“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips.

It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.

He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.

“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.

He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.

But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.

“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.

Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking.

“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.

Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk.

He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.

You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.

“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees.

His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.

He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.

You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.

“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.

“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”

But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.

“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.

You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.

“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile.

You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.

But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.

“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.

His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.

He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt.

“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.

Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.

The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.

You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.

You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.

There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath.

He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing.

It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide.

He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you.

It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.

Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.

He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.

You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.

“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips.

You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.

“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.

He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.

“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum.

He smiles.

“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”

You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.

But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.

“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”

You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”

You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.

“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”

♡ P2 ♡ NANAMI KENTO masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

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twinkletfout · 3 months ago

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I like to think that a soft and gentle man like Nanami has to be the roughest in bed. Just the thought makes me MELT.

The moment both of you stumble into your shared bedroom, The second the door closes behind with a 'click', he has you against the now closed door, your wrists are tightened with a single grip of his. His other hand harshly pulls down your panties to cup your wet pussy. His middle finger rubbing circle on your sensitive nub as he hums in delight of the way your thighs tremble. Maybe he will catch you off-guard by stopping midway to earn a whimper or two, then plunging his thick fingers, he would love how your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you try to stand still with your back arches in pleasure. "You're leaking all over my fingers, baby" you hum lightly, arching your back against him, "missed me that badly, sweetheart?"

He would push you on to the bed as he takes off his shirt in a hurry that he might break a few buttons. The way you look splayed on the bed with those eyes filled with desire. Gosh, it's doing things to him, his cock twitching and bopping up at the sight. And it hurts but in a good way that he wants to grip his length to be inside you after so long. He was thinking of you all day long, all those flirty comments you make, nanami never falter, not even a little bit or break a sweat in public, but that exact man is in front of you right now, ripping his shirt off and his face practically painted red, flushed.

After he gets on top of you and looks down at you, narrowing his eyes as he drinks down your state under him, and how you get embarrassed of the way he is looking at you and turns out you look away at last is what he loves the most, so he can make you look at him and spout the filthiest things with a playful smirk. "Weren't so shy in all those messages, what's wrong now? Cannot even look me in the eye anymore?" He would make you look at him, brushing his thumb past your lower lip as he leaned down to kiss you messy. Oh and btw he definitely is a man to talk you through it and knowing you like it like that. As you try to accommodate his size, he would run his fingers down your thighs reassuringly while his other hand rub your puffy clit. "Aren't you a good girl? Take it, i know you can" And when he manages to slip it all in, kissing your most sensitive area as your thighs literally tremble, he would coo in your ear, a sweet praise for making him feel so good. "Godd, i might cum if you squeeze me that hard, shit— haa im trying, baby, am i being good nhmm?" All of his senses will drown in your moans, later as he would start thrusting in you roughly. It's like he uses you for his own pleasure, slapping your ass and pulling on your hair. But you notice faintly the way his roughness crumbles, kissing your teary eyes and capturing your lips as he pounds into you, your moans drowning in between those kisses.

I might be a lil too feral for him but like, look at him, he is Nanami Kento

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theorist-fox · 4 months ago

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Promise rings

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Crossposted on AO3.

Filthy. That's it. If you want some more humiliation kink I highly, highly, highly, highly recommend this by @/the-californicationist

Previous << || >> Next

18+

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: Simon fingers you in the rec room and you give him a promise ring. Or two—depending on how many fingers he's used.

CW: smut (fingering, finger sucking, squirting), humiliation kink, semi-public, Simon is a little mean but you love it so it's fine, dub con if you squint and mention of safeword

Masterlist 🦊 | Series Masterlist 🦊

“Don’ wan’ anyone to hear ya now, do we?”

He hushes you, mouth to your ear. His hand is shackled to your hips by the waistband of your sweatpants, two thick fingers already slick and buried to the knuckle.

Simon holds you tightly in place, hand curled at the base of your throat as an empty threat he won’t fulfill unless you kindly ask. He has you tucked between his legs, aptly spread to accommodate your body in between, as he slowly pumps his fingers into your cunt. Your knees are conveniently hooked on each of his thighs, and they’re already trembling even if he’s just begun.

Sweat collects on your back, dampening your shirt and by extension his own too. You feel his heart rabbit in his ribcage, thrumming against your spine. Thick arms glue your back to his chest—just in case you want to make a run for it.

As if, right?

Earlier that night, he’d caught you out of your room much past midnight, trying to sneak a cuppa in the common area. Told you something along the lines of how he should have you cleaning the toilets because you’re breaking curfew, and you bit back with a hefty dose of sarcasm about how that’s not your favorite punishment he’s ever given you.

And so, he’d grabbed you by the waist and dropped back on the couch with an arm still coiled around it.

You’re ashamed to say it only took two fingers circling your entrance and his tongue licking wanton stripes down your neck to make you embarrassingly wet. Balaclava lifted to his nose, he’d murmured unholy things to your ear, like how he’d want to drill in your head that you can’t go and break base rules, how he can’t keep covering for you, how he’d love to teach you a lesson by splitting you in half on his cock until you can only part your lips to apologize for giving him a headache.

But alas, the location isn’t sex friendly.

However, the notion hasn't stopped Simon from adopting a more subtle approach that would lead to a similar conclusion. Like swirling the tips of his fingers around the fluttering hole of your cunt. Or biting softly at the shell of your ear, while keeping you nice and still with a hand on your collarbones.

Doesn’t stop him now, as he curls the pads of his fingers until they press where the velvet of your walls gets rougher to the touch.

You abandon your head back onto his shoulder, heavy puffs leave your mouth in tandem with the skilled work of his hand, one that knows every nook and cranny of you. Glossy lips start nibbling at his neck and you relish how his throat bobs each time your teeth sink a little deeper. His growing stubble scratches the tender skin of your mouth, but it’s more than fine because you like how it stings.

“Little more, please?” You breathe.

But it’s then that he stops beckoning his fingers, leaving your walls to clamp around them as they fall still. You protest by biting the tendons of his neck a bit harder, suppressing a groan into it.

“Maybe it went over your head,” he drawls, tugging the balaclava down his chin before returning his hand at the base of your throat. “But this is a punishment, love.”

He cruelly leaves your hole to desperately flutter around nothing, but ultimately uses those same fingers to wet the rest of your sex. Keeping quiet becomes less of an option when he starts rubbing idle circles on your clit. He’s neglected it all this time, making it swell with blood and causing its sensitivity to peak.

You shudder when he first brushes over it.

As if out of habit, you search for his lips, sure to add a nice make-out session to pair with his fingers. But your mouth only meets fabric, and you frown.

“Don’t be a bastard, Riley.”

He hums, turning away to press a kiss to your cheek through the balaclava. “Only way I know.”

You pout. “Just one.”

“Behave.”

With a sigh, you relent. There’s no use in begging for something he won’t give you. You’ve learned to recognize what you can get from Simon, and what will be out of reach for the time being. If he’s decided he doesn’t want to kiss you, you will not get a kiss.

But it doesn’t mean that you can’t be a little petty about it.

You tug at his mask with your teeth, catching his lower lip too, and sharply bite into it.

In response, Simon slaps your pussy. A wet thwack echoes in the silent rec room. It sends tingles up your spine, and you hiss and gasp against his lips. Your nerves are currently haywire, and they cannot discern whether that rush was due to pain or pleasure.

You pull back only to pout, but it's obvious to both of you that there is no animosity in your eyes. In fact, Simon’s gaze falls to your lips with lust embedded in his pupils, and he takes that slightly jutting lower lip of yours as a little plea for him to give you what you need. Which is why he brushes his wet fingertips to your clit again, and again, until he can feel you soften in his grasp with a sequence of breathy, surrendering sighs. Only then, when you feel like molten wax in his hands, he switches to more rewarding, steady circles.

His focus leaves your lips only to take in your eyes. They’re diligently trained on him, because you know he likes to look you dead in the eye when he’s making you tremble to the bone. Eye contact is the only means he uses to communicate with you in the fog that is your relationship.

He’s more absorbed than you are, your eyes getting glassier by the minute. You want to keep it up, to hold your own against his stare that defies you to crack him open and peel the layers and understand. But you and him both know that is the last straw for you. He’s made you sensitive and supple and dull. Your head rolls back against his shoulder, and you push back, once again, the discovery of Simon Riley.

You breathe softly against his neck, trying to give yourself some containment due to the location you’re in. Nails dig in his forearms until they mark pink crescents over his tattoos, hoping that releasing tension through touch would help you keep your mouth shut.

Simon knows you still have something up your sleeve to use against him, because his weakness is to have you yearning for him as much as he does you—to have you pleading for his words, his touch, his presence, like he internally does each time you walk into his same space.

You’ve never had a problem begging. When you’re confident enough about your person, pride doesn’t even get involved—they’re just words, and if he likes them, then so be it.

As long as he makes you come until your head spins.

“Please, Simon.” You whimper, putting up that act he knows all too well. As if he’d believe you’re truly submitting to him—but it’s fine, to be honest.

He's never wanted you to bend for him. Simon likes that fire that singes your pupils when you’re on active duty, or when you fuck him. He wouldn’t dream of snuffing it out, not when he’s more than aware that it makes him glow, too.

“Bit louder.” He rasps against your ear.

And you oblige, going as far as to wet your lips and bat your pretty lashes at him. Minx.

“Please? I’ll suck your cock after.”

Simon huffs. “Sellin’ it alrigh’.”

He loves to feel the stiffness of your clit under the pads of his fingers, how the more he skims them over it, the harder it gets—as if he’s flipping a switch. Which he sort of is, isn’t he? You’ve turned from the snarky little minx that could make him crack a smile or two, into this soft clay molding under the warmth of his touch.

“Wanna cum,” you sigh sweetly against his skin, sucking tenderly at the exposed flesh on his neck. “Please, Simon, let’s go to my room.”

He tuts at you, slowing down with his hand only to get you annoyed.

“We’re gonna stay ‘ere,” he murmurs, softly shaking his head so that the fabric of the balaclava scratches your skin.

Then, out of the blue, you feel fingers dig into your jaw and pulling your mouth away from his neck. He forces your eyes forward, where the door of the rec room opens to the dark hallway.

“You’re gonna cum on my hand, yeah? Soak it nicely.” He rasps against your ear, “An’ you’re gonna be quiet ‘bout it.”

Your cunt flutters.

“Need you sharp. Tha' clear?” He says, commanding as ever. “Answer, Sergeant.”

It almost makes you unravel then and there. Your eyes roll back and your hips buck against his hand. But you still have bits of reason floating around that mush he’s turned your brain into.

He leaves the grip around your jaw and returns his hand at the base of your throat, thumb and middle finger gently pressing at its sides. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder with blissful abandon.

“Cameras,” you mumble, sounding a little stupid and definitely on the verge of surrender. “There’re cameras.”

His response comes swiftly. “Not pointin’ at the sofa.”

Your chest stutters. He feels it under the weight of his palm. Your soft moans quiet down, too. A telltale sign of your beautiful brain whirring its cogs again. How he loves it, more than your body. Outwitting his every move. A true opponent—or ally, if only he’d allow you a little closer.

“You planned this, haven’t you?” You whisper cleverly, face still hidden in the crook of his neck and chest still heaving under his hand. Still affected by him, and yet your voice sounds steady and smooth.

And you’re so right. He knows this place by heart and could walk around it blindfolded. When he saw you in your grey sweatpants and an old white t-shirt, fumbling lazily with the electric kettle, blood had rushed so quickly to his cock he thought he could have fainted.

There is something about you invested in this almost boring, domestic light that always strikes him breathless. When the outline of the pillow fabric is imprinted in your cheek. When your hair is tousled by the bedsheets.

You look good in uniform too, all safely cradled in Kevlar and padded in neoprene. But it’s when you look drowsy and soft that sends him spiraling.

With the calculating mind of the pathological control freak he is, he’d retraced the position of the cameras in his head, and promptly decided to have you then and there.

The silence following your question must not be as subtle as he thinks. In seconds, you go from pliantly soft, into a squirming mess trying to escape him. Simon manages to hold you still only because he overpowers you in strength.

“What is it, mh?” You hiss, pushing at his forearm. “Been following me, L.T.?”

He hadn’t. Truly, he’d just stumbled upon you. It wouldn’t be too odd—he’s a sleepless ghost, after all, oftentimes found wandering around base at ungodly hours. The fact that he’d found you in his usual haunting grounds had been mere luck—true, blessed luck.

“You are-”

“Shut up.”

“-Fucking obsessed, and you-”

“Don’t.”

“-can’t even admit it.“

“Sergeant.”

“Coward.”

He plunges those two fingers back inside, punching a gasp out of you, and he gives no time for your hole to readjust to the stretch. Simply, he starts dragging against the front of your walls with a voracity that could be mistaken for hate, if you didn’t know him better.

You stiffen suddenly, arching your back off his chest. Teeth catch your bottom lip in an almost bloodthirsty grip—as much as you want to scream at him, you don’t want to get caught either.

He rams relentlessly into you until you're melting once again. His mouth is painfully pressed against your ear, and if the balaclava wasn't in the way, he would be lapping at whatever piece of flesh he could land on.

“Y’re a clever little thing, uh?” He groans huskily. “Always got the fuckin’ answer ready.”

You laugh under your breath, perhaps because you’re getting exactly what you want, or perhaps because you’ve been reading him more keenly than he thought and you've finally uncovered some new information that has been shrouded in darkness up until now.

He doesn’t care, and he gives in to you.

“Oh, you love it, you bastard,” you bite back breathlessly, which only makes his cock twitch in the tight space of his briefs.

“Smug little cunt.” He breathes in your ear, but you swear there isn’t an ounce of hostility in it.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. The playful smile on your fucked out face is straight out of his dreams—he's seen it so many times and yet it never ceases to amaze him. Nor does the way your hair bounces off your face in recoil from the frantic work of his hand. Or how your cheeks turn ruddy for him. Or how your lashes cast heavy shadows down your face.

“You love this smug little cunt, too.” You breathe, smugly.

Just proving his words, really.

“Don’t get cocky,” he hums in your ear. “Might gonna have to prove ya wrong, then.”

The heel of his hand rolls against your puffy clit in tandem with his fingers, because he wants you to come undone impossibly quick now that you’ve caught him red-handed.

It’s enough to make you forget you’re having a battle of wits with him. Your eyes roll back again, and your head falls limply onto his shoulder.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you wheeze, and he takes that as a sign to not stride away from the pace he’s taken.

His hand at the base of your neck tightens slightly, causing your breathy moans to lodge in your throat. Your cunt clenches right then, and your lips tug in a smile—because you love it, and he knows.

His contorted little mess. His cunning fox, strutting around the base with so much confidence in her gait, looking seemingly untamable. But when you're in his clutches, you're nothing but his pet, the one who enjoys having her leash tugged a little more firmly than socially acceptable.

“S-Simon.” Yes. Yes. C’mon, sweetheart. C’mon. “Simon – oh God –“

You’re being too loud. He doesn’t care if he gets caught with his pants down. He dares someone to confront him about it. Simon doesn’t revel in fickle things like dignity, not after life has done its goddamn worst to strip him of it.

But you? Hell, not you. He cherishes your privacy, in spite of how this whole predicament might make it look otherwise. On top of that, he selfishly likes to think he’s the only one with the delightful honor to see you so flushed and breathless, moaning his name like it’s the only one you know.

“Told ya to stay quiet.” And he stuffs two fingers in your mouth.

You groan and suck them back to your throat, until his pads graze the soft palate at the back. You gag around them, and he almost comes in his pants, wishing it was his cock instead.

“Bite, don’t shout.”

And you do. You bite the flesh around the base of his fingers, while his other ones are bringing you closer to the edge. An edge you’ve touched plenty of times with him, but one you’d rather not reach in such a public spot.

Granted, it’s night. It would be a fateful event for someone to walk by—rare, if not unique.

But still.

“Simon,” you moan, voice muffled around his fingers. “Fuck’s sake, no’ ‘ere.”

He chuckles, because he knows.

And you confirm it, by getting all agitated in his arms, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. Your hand curls around the wrist of his offending hand, still ramming deep into your sex.

“Simon, stop –” You croak, slightly pulling back to speak. “M’gonna cum—stop.”

He doesn’t. That’s not the safe word, is it? Say it, and he’ll stop stock still in less than a heartbeat.

But you won't, right, sweet thing? No, you won’t. Because it feels too good, doesn’t it?

“Red?” He rumbles, voice low and measured to give you the impression that he still has some semblance of control left.

You cry around his fingers until your brows touch. Tears prickle the corners of your eyes, and maybe, he thinks, you like this. The thought of getting caught. The thought of someone seeing you come for him, shaking and bucking your hips like you’re a fucking cat in heat.

His fingers don’t relent, because that tiny word still hasn’t left your lips.

“Red?” He insists, as he feels your cunt clench impossibly tight each time he speaks. “Answer.”

But you don’t. Instead, you shake your head with a sob, and Simon would bet his fucking right hand that it’s out of pleasure more than anything else.

He chuckles, low and deep. “Dirty fuckin’ slag.”

He’d recognize that fucked out look anywhere. As if you’re struggling to breathe, eyes unfocused and glassy, lustrous lips puckered right above the knuckle. He regrets refusing your kiss, because he's sure they’d look even more delectable after he’s bitten them to bits.

“You like this, uh?” He rasps against your ear. “Wan’ an audience all for ya, yeah? Wan’ the team to pop in to see you like this?”

You shake your head, muffling a cry around his fingers.

He tuts at you. “Don’t lie to me, love.”

You squirm and moan, sniffling with your nose as tears travel down your temples and into your hairline. You nod, then, because you’re a good sergeant and you follow orders as dutifully as you hand them out—every time.

"Wan' em all to 'ave a wank as you cum 'round my fingers, don't you?" He croons, even if the thought of someone seeing you like this has his blood boiling.

Drool gathers at the corners of your mouth as you buck your hips to intensify the work of his hand. And you nod vigorously, once again, with your eyes rolled back. Heavy puffs leave your nostrils, shallow and quick.

Simon hums a groan deep from his chest. He loves to see you break, loves to see you crack so easily. Doesn’t care if your mouth is quieted by his fingers, because your cunt is so wet it’s making sounds of its own that are enough for his greedy, insatiable ears.

His forearm starts cramping but he'll be damned if he stops, keeping his ring and middle finger inside as he presses them to the front wall of your vagina, while rhythmically dragging them in and out in a dance he knows will make you shatter.

And then you tense, corded neck tilted back. A long, agonizing moan escapes your stuffed mouth, and your walls signal your orgasm before your lips do. You ripple around his fingers, initially making movements hard, if not impossible. He easily overcomes that obstacle and keeps fucking you raw with the help of your come collecting on his palm. You’re so wet he barely has to try.

He looks at your profile on his shoulder. At the fucked out look in your eyes, misty and unfocused. Keenly listens to the moans you're trying to contain, as they turn into wheezing mewls. Feels the vice grip your pulsating cunt has on his fingers, the indents left by your teeth on his other hand.

Fuck it, you're gorgeous.

You come back down from the high with a wet gasp choked by his knuckles. Your nose is stuffy and it’s probably a little hard to breathe—but he’s merciful and takes out his fingers.

Or, at least, tries.

Your head lunges forward before he’s fully pulled them out. You gag when the tips touch the back of your throat again.

Simon’s eyes widen but he doesn’t waste a second.

He resumes the pace that has already made you come, watching with rapt attention how your face doesn’t even look like yours anymore. There’s spit on your lips, and tears down your eyes. He’s already seen you wrecked, folded in half on his bedsheets. But there’s something even more unhinged about having you panting in the common area of a high security military base. It feeds him a great deal of power—you’re doing this for him, you’re putting yourself on the line because of him.

That, of course, requires a reward.

“Look at you,” he croaks. “Gimme one more, yeah? One more.”

Your legs squirm and you kick your heels against the sofa in sudden overstimulation, the hold of your hands on his arm turns into a death grip that paints your knuckles white and his flesh red. You could be skinning him alive, and he wouldn’t stop the onslaught on your pussy.

He can hear you heaving, sees your pebbled nipples brush against the soft cotton of your t-shirt. Your teeth are sinking into his flesh, and he will most likely be sporting bruised bite marks on his fingers for a few days. He rolls his wrist to cause fluctuations in the pressure on your swollen clit and against your walls. Your hips swing together with his hand. He knows where to touch, you know how to guide him—it’s an intimate dance, and it belongs to you two only.

Simon scratches his cheek against your temple to collect the tears that are falling into your hairline.

He flattens the heel of his hand against your clit, which is once again a stiff kink of nerves—he’s shocked by how far he can push you before he wrings you dry.

Your eyes touch his own, but you’re not even looking. Still unsated, still greedy for more—you love this, don’t you? Too much on your shoulders: responsibilities, a haunting past and an uncertain future. This job gives you very few rewards for the effort you put into it. That’s why you love it, when he brushes away every fear and uncertainty with a simple roll of his hand.

He starts beckoning his fingers inside of you, teasing and pressing against that one overstimulated spot that has already made you come. The squelching noises coming from your pussy are enough to make his cock leak as he keeps pressing and sliding against your ass.

“Leakin’ like a fuckin’ faucet.” He rasps against your ear.

You moan around his fingers, and it vibrates through his bones. Your eyes are hooded, lushes clumped with tears, and your body is completely abandoned and at his mercy. You trust him to ruin you in the best ways, and he can only comply.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he whispers in your ear. “Could cum just by lookin’ at ya.”

Feeding you this knowledge seems enough to tip you over the edge again.

He wishes he’d taken this to another room like you asked before, because you slip into a second orgasm with a choked “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck!” muffled by his digits that will haunt him forever.

A rushing flood invades his palm, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at the sight. You come spraying liquid, tense and quivering in his arms. The soft grey marl of your sweats first darkens with tiny speckles, and then it blends into a larger spot covering the crotch of your pants.

Breath is caught in your throat, and if he wasn't witnessing the strength of your orgasm firsthand, he'd be dead worried by the look on your face. Pinched and overwhelmed.

"There it is." He murmurs, low and gravelly, "Fuck, tha's a sight. Fuckin' lovely."

He leaves your hole to flutter emptily only to skim the pruny pads of his fingers on your clit to prolong your orgasm, watching mesmerized how your squirt keeps staining the fabric.

It’s impossibly hot and it makes something in his head tick at the sight, almost like a needle puncturing his brain. His cock twitches helplessly as he unconsciously keeps rubbing the swollen head against your plump rear, before an unexpected warmth floods through him and invades each one of his nerves.

He tastes blood on his tongue for how hard he’s been biting his cheek.

Fuck.

A ragged breath around his fingers tells him you’ve returned to yourself. You soften against him like a doll prettily placed on his lap.

"Breathe," he says softly, watching keenly as you come back to your senses. "Slow n' steady, love. Deep breaths. Tha's it."

His fingers slow, guiding you down to earth. Your eyes are hooded, glossy and now apparently sated, blood collected in the apples of your cheeks. You’re looking at him too, now gently suckling on his fingers to keep quiet, nostrils flaring to breathe as he's instructing you.

You’re so beautiful he forgets he has to be a bastard around you, or you’ll come and try to steal the heart you unknowingly already own.

Simon takes his fingers out of your mouth, not without smearing the spit they collected all over your lips first. You pant and smile. And apparently, you don't care that he's wearing the mask, because you lean in and kiss where his lips would be. Just a peck. He can’t fathom giving you more, not now. Not when his head is so confused, thoughts and feelings twisted in an imprecise knot. He simply kisses you back, silently cursing the fabric separating your skin from his, but ultimately doing nothing about it. Then, he helps you stand.

“Go on, now.” He murmurs, patting your thigh. “S’after curfew.”

You're looking a little out of it. Simon can't help but feel a brief moment of guilt for leaving you to fend for yourself, when your legs look like they're made of jelly and your head still swims in ecstasy.

You wobble to the table, flattening your hands on the faux wood to regain your balance. Head bowed and still panting, your hair falls to frame your face and hides it from his sight. You feel dizzy, blinking your eyes to center yourself. The pleasure ebbs away slowly, languid, like molten lava leaving the crater of a volcano, dripping down your quivering legs scorching hot, until it puddles at your feet.

Differently, Simon doesn’t move from the sofa. A hand comes to adjust his crotch, and he lifts his hips to get into a more comfortable angle. He stays like that, legs spread as the ghost of you still sits in between them. His thumb grazes the fabric of the sweatpants he uses as loungewear, and he looks at you. Bent at the waist, wet, messy and panting—his name is written over you with a big, fat indelible marker.

You’re his, his, his. No matter what you say, or what he says—you’re his.

Simon’s eyes are dark and heavy with lust and a tinge of anger, and you can feel them like lasers drawing your profile as if he’s carving it into marble. Whichever thought about him was about to bloom, however, is smothered to cinders when you spot the huge wet patch between your thighs.

Your eyes widen and you turn, if possible, even more flushed. Your head snaps upward and to him in a flash. Your eyes are burning, and Simon can’t help but think he’d love for you to scorch him to the bone.

“Y-You fuckin’ bastard.” You point an accusing finger in his direction, walking awkwardly as the sodden cotton of your knickers sticks uncomfortably to your pussy.

“Go on, I said.” He murmurs in his usual, jaded way. “S’late, you’re gonna get caught.”

You’re infuriated. Incensed. He wants to fuck you all over, flatten your tits to that same table, and ram into you while you shower him with curses and come.

“How am I s’posed to walk around like I’ve pissed myself!”

You’re whisper yelling. Smoke is billowing out of your ears. Your eyes turn crimson and you’re growing horns and a pointy tail.

You look beautiful.

But he simply rolls his neck and keeps his big hand draped over his groin.

“With your legs, love.”

And you stomp to him until you’re standing once again between his thighs.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Simon throws back his head onto the top of the couch and looks at you through hooded eyes, pupils blown into a black hole that sucks the light of his brown irises.

“Can’t kill a ghost.”

"Oh, shut your gob with that shit.” You spit with vitriol.

“Not so smug now, uh?”

You suck in a sharp breath.

“You-you fuckin’ wanker.” You hiss, but the embarrassed stutter makes you look like a puffed up cat more than a viper. “I fuckin’ hate you.”

“Bet you do.”

“I’m a respected sergeant, I can’t go ‘round like I’ve piss-”

“That all?”

You glower at him. If he didn’t know you like the back of his hand, he would cower. Shame for you that he does, and the irate flame in your eyes only makes his hunger grow because he knows how voracious you are when you’re furious.

“Told ya t’was a punishment, didn’t I?” He deadpans, “Jog on, now.”

Once again, you splutter. It would be such an entertaining sight, one he’d relentlessly tease you for, if he was in the mood. But he isn't, and in fact, he needs you to leave as soon as humanly possible.

You clench your fists, probably ready to strike him right in his mug. Totally deserved it, he’d let you get him straight on the nose.

But then you huff and strike you don’t, stomping your foot on the floor like an angry child. Cleverly, you decide to put your hands to better use and tug down the hem of your oversized t-shirt instead—trying to cover, as best as you can, the wet patch on the crotch of your pants.

Scowling, you threaten him with a sizzling “I’m gonna make you pay for it, Riley.”

You turn around, marching away with ire in each one of your steps as if the soles of your feet could melt the linoleum of the floors by sheer, angry heat.

“Sure you will.” He murmurs to himself, knowing fully well he’s started a battle he’ll gladly let you win.

Simon waits for the noise of your steps to disappear before he sinks into the couch with a defeated sigh. Tugging off the balaclava, he runs a sloppy hand across his face. He can still smell you on his fingers and something in his stomach knots.

Wearily, his eyes travel down his torso until they meet the hand covering the crotch of his sweatpants. With his thumb, he traces the purple indents left by your teeth at base of each finger. Tomorrow, he’ll wear them proudly. A weird promise ring, sure. But yours, nonetheless.

He lifts his hand slowly and scowls.

An incriminating stain stares back at him. Untouched, softening cock sensitive to the barest of movements he makes.

Looks like you’ll meet again tomorrow in the laundry room, first thing in the morning.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #ghost x reader #smut #cod smut #x reader #mean Simon Riley #Simon Riley is bad at feelings #my favorite tag #foxy

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miserycanary · 11 months ago

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TAKE IT OR LEAVE HIM ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader

synopsis: Ghost forgets your birthday

tag: slight slight angst

Hectic doesn’t begin to describe Ghost’s schedule, yet you accepted him with open arms. He needs to cut your dinner short because he’s needed back at the base? You nod with a smile full of understanding. He forgets a few chores and groceries because he’s piled up with tasks? You kiss his forehead and tell him it’s fine, and you just work around it and rush during your office breaks to do those tasks on your own. You’re exhausted from being held back at the office because the client changed their mind during the finalization, but you come home to a pile of dirty dishes and no dinner? You say you understand, washing up and going to bed while feeling your stomach grumble and waking up to wash the previous night’s dishes just to lessen Ghost’s worries.

You had no problem bending backwards just to accommodate him. You entered the relationship knowing about his schedule, so… were you really in any position to complain?

A few insignificant tasks and miniscule adjustments to your schedule were nothing; never once uttered a complaint because you understood. Why? Because Ghost always finds a way to make it up to you. Sending bouquets when you close a big deal, treating you to a fancy restaurant during your birthday (though he’s mostly never there to celebrate until the end), and gifting you branded things during your anniversaries… so, it was all okay….. ?

Yes, it’s fine if he never shows up for your dinner date because of work.

Yes, it’s fine that you spend most nights alone.

Yes, you can clean the house, shop for groceries, do the laundry, and cook for the both of you.

It was all okay. You were okay with it. You accepted it. You understood. You can do it. You’re fine. It’s all worth it. It’s not worth any trouble. It’s fine—

You snap back and all thoughts stop rushing into your head. Your phone blares an alarm with the words, ‘DATE NIGHT’, flashing on the screen. Right, it’s your birthday and Ghost promised he’d finally make it this time. So, you wore the prettiest dress, applied the most gorgeous (and time-consuming) makeup, and put on the cutest heels (your feet are getting blisters) because you wanted to spend this night with the man you love most on your Earth… who wasn’t by your side right now, but it’s fine.

The waiter approaches the table, asking you for what seems to be the 6th time that night if your company is coming because they’re about to close. Giving up, you offer an apologetic smile and gather your things. The walk out the restaurant was embarrassing to say the least. Harsh winter air greets your face, your legs and arms trembling as you try to seek warmth from the take-out bag. You didn’t bring a jacket because, well, you thought Ghost would be there with you, but it’s fine.

The apartment door clicks open and a dark hallway awaits you. ‘Ah, he’s not here yet,’ you think to yourself, a pang of disappointment piercing your heart that raised its hope for one night. With a wince and a pained gasp, your heels come undone. Muted footsteps along the wooden floorboards as you strip out your clothes and wash up. You resign the night with your lover nowhere to be found— once again, but it’s fine.

Morning dawn cracks through your curtains with a familiar arm around your waist and familiar dip on the mattress. You blink your sleepiness away, taking in every detail of your Simon’s face in the morning. Like he has a third sense, he wakes and stares back at you. First smiles of the day are shared between you two but you expected more. Nothing too grand. Maybe an apology and a greeting? Yet the day goes by with receiving neither, but it’s fine. Maybe the next day’s the charm?

Nothing.

Irritation towards your lover is a rare occurrence with your endless patience and never-ending understanding of his situation. You still held hopes that maybe he’d finally realize his slip-up, but what did you come home to? Dirty dishes. A pile of them.

“Ah, sweetheart. You’re home,” he kisses your cheek and presses your waist close to him like usual. The scent of whiskey and cigar lingers on his clothes— a scent you usually adore but now only fuels your anger. “Si, what’s this?” you ask, trying to keep your frustration at bay as you point to the sink. “What? Oh, noticed ‘ya didn’t make dinner so I ate what’s ever left,” he answers cooly like there’s nothing wrong.

“... do you mean you ate my lunch for tomorrow?”

“That yours? Sorry, baby. ‘Ya can jus’ make another one, and one for me.”

You pull away, slapping his face with tears rushing down your face. Ghost looks at you with shock and confusion which angers you further. How can he not realize why you’re mad?

“Woah, woah. What’s wrong, doll?”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT. Oh, my fucking God, Simon. You’re really asking me that?” you run your fingers through your hair, screaming at his face and throwing your purse at him. “What’s wrong?? You tell me! I slave away at this goddamn house. I go to bed with my bones feeling like weights because I keep cleaning after your mess, but it’s fine! Because you were busy, I understood.”

Tension builds in the air as everything you’ve held back poured out of you. “I never complained because I told you I was fine with your schedule when we first started dating. I fucking bend my body backwards and did everything for you LIKE A MAID. And you have the audacity to ask me what’s wrong? You don’t even ask me how my day went. Asking me to cook for you like I’m just a housekeeper? YOU DON’T EVEN DO ANYTHING FOR ME.” You stomp over to his face, glaring with hatred as you spat out your next words. “Just a fucking reminder that I am your girlfriend. I am not here to clean up after you.”

“Did I ask you to?” he snaps back, returning the same vile stare. “You’re whining about working around the house like I asked you to. Let’s be clear that I never forced you to do these shits around the house.”

“You didn’t have to! You just kept piling up dishes and clothes, leaving a messy trail behind you because you know you expect me to do it for you!”

“And did those come for free? I buy you everything you want on anniversaries and birthdays. You act as if you come for cheap,” he scoffs.

"WELL, GUESS WHAT? YOU FUCKING FORGOT IT THIS YEAR,” you finally confess through sobs. Realization dawns upon your lover, evident on the way his face drops. He tries to approach you but you step back.

“I waited for you like a fool because you promised. I-.. I.. had to tell the waiter 5 times that you were coming because they were on the verge of throwing me out. Did you know how embarrassing it was for me? I… I know I shouldn’t have kept my hopes up but I wanted to believe in you, but.. I’m tired.”

Silence blankets you both as every emotion rushes through your heart. Your throat felt raw and your head was getting heavy from all the crying.

“I’m done, Ghost. I’m tired," you whisper. Those words were simple but Ghost knew what lies underneath. You weren't tired of what you did for him. You were tired of him.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: woah, angst again? Anyone surprised? This request has been sitting on my inbox for a while but I have enough free time to answer them, so here we are. I will make a König version if this gets attention. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

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incorrectbatfam · 1 month ago

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One thing I rarely see in injury and chronic pain fics is the grief that comes with missing out on stuff you love because you can no longer do them without hurting yourself. Writers who have been disabled their whole lives (or at least a long time) tend to forget that not all disabled people are used to being disabled. For able-bodied characters, especially athletic ones like vigilantes, a serious injury could mean a jarring change that includes giving up the things that mean the most to them.

I was physically fine until I was 18. Back then, my sense of self was entwined with interests that required a lot of movement and dexterity. I started doing MMA in middle school for self-defense. I loved parkour and even had a few hundred subscribers on my old YouTube channel. I learned to shoot and was gifted my first gun when I was 16. I took up multiple instruments. You get the idea.

My motorcycle accident fucked up the joints on my left side—my knee and shoulder especially, but also wrist to an extent. When it first happened, I thought I'd be on crutches for a bit but things would eventually get back to normal. The pain didn't go away even after I got rid of the crutches but I figured it was just residual and I should do what I'd been doing before. It's why I turned to substances—to block the pain and do what I love, but that's another topic. I didn't recognize my injury as a disabling thing until the end of the pandemic, when I put my parkour channel on an indefinite hiatus because it was seriously wearing my body down. It might sound silly to you but I was devastated. It's like if Spider-Man wasn't allowed to swing from buildings. It took me a long time to make peace with losing that part of me.

Another piece of that grief is even when you can do stuff, it's not the same because you have to exclude certain aspects of it for your own health. It's like the Robin that died and came back wrong. I can't use certain gym equipment and I have to tell my sparring partners what to avoid. I don't go to the shooting range much now because I can't extend my arm and hold a rifle for the amount of time it takes to aim without it starting to hurt. I'm a drummer, but I need breaks throughout the setlist and I can't do anything too fast or complex with the pedals, which means I can't play some of my favorite songs and my band is limited in what we write and perform. I can't take my motorcycle on road trips without frequent rest stops. Making accommodations helps physically, but emotionally, they're not always easy to accept because that means accepting the pain as a long-term disability rather than a temporary setback.

This got super long because I think it's unexplored in fics so some tips for creators:

First, learn how the body works and how stupidly fast and easy it is to get hurt. Mine was on a residential road because I didn't pay attention for 0.2 seconds

Learn the difference between internalized ableism and being upset over becoming disabled. I think a lot of writers skip over the feelings someone would naturally experience because it can be construed as ableism. Let them be in denial, sad, angry, etc. upon finding out because acceptance almost never happens right away. That's different from being a dick to themselves or others based on disability

Also, not everyone uses the same labels or has the same vocabulary to describe themselves. Different characters will have different ways of describing depending on their personality, level of knowledge, where they come from, and their relationship with their disability. I still don't really call myself disabled since I don't have it as bad as others so I tell people what happened instead (anyone who says "differently abled" will receive a different ability from me in the Denny's parking lot)

Think about how they cope with their new disability. Do they realize it's a disability right away? Do they talk to someone? Search desperately for a cure? Numb the pain? Turn to alternative methods? Do they worry about something else first, like money? Do they develop something else because of it, like a mental illness? Again, coping poorly is not ableism

What stays the same and what changes? I think about the difference between Forrest Gump and Lieutenant Dan after they were both wounded in battle

If they have a passion they can no longer pursue, it doesn't make much sense for them drop it so readily. Maybe they find a way to continue with accommodations (a good place to get creative!). Maybe they try and push through anyway. If they do ultimately resign, include the thought process and internal conflict behind it

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deesseshesca · 3 months ago

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PAC: What does my life look like once I hit my full potential?

Hope I make it out of here.

ALL READING ON SALE (70% OFF) (BLACK FRIDAY OFFER)

PILE 1

Oh, bestie, I feel you on this. Balancing hustle and chill vibes is so important when you’re in that “level-up” era, especially with the Lovers card as your overall energy—it’s giving alignment and divine choices. Here’s the tea:

First, trust that this new career opportunity isn’t just a job; it’s a gateway to something magical. Your next lover is literally waiting for you on the other side of this. Like, how iconic is that? The universe is basically screaming, “This is part of your glow-up!”

But let’s keep it real: grinding too hard can mess with your flow. So, schedule your downtime like it’s a business meeting—whether that’s journaling, bingeing your fave show, or vibing out with a playlist that makes you feel main character energy. Chill time isn’t lazy; it’s necessary. You can’t pour from an empty cup.

When it comes to hustle, think of it like this: show up and give your best, but don’t overthink it. Be intentional, not overwhelmed. Remember, the Lovers card is also about harmony—so treat your hustle like a love story. Be passionate, but know when to step back and breathe.

And here’s the real plot twist: this opportunity isn’t just about meeting them. It’s about meeting the next, more evolved version of you. They’ll love that version of you, and so will you. So take the leap, but keep your soul soft. You’ve got this. ❤️

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PILE 2

Okay, imagine this: when you hit your full potential, your life looks like the perfect balance of confidence and rest. You’ve worked hard to know your worth and never settle, and now you’re living in a way that matches that energy. Think quiet mornings in a space that feels so you, reflecting on your growth while sipping your favorite coffee—unbothered and untouchable.

But here’s the thing: getting there doesn’t mean you’re grinding 24/7. You’ll learn that slowing down is the power move. For example, instead of saying yes to everything, you’ll get super intentional about what aligns with your long-term goals. If an opportunity feels off or doesn’t match your vision, you’ll confidently pass, knowing that better things are waiting.

That self-love you’ve mastered? It’ll make you a magnet for respect. People will see how deeply you value yourself and will match that energy—or they’ll fall off, and honestly, you won’t care. It’s like you’ll finally be surrounded by relationships, jobs, and opportunities that deserve you because you’ve set the bar so high.

Here’s the practical advice: stay open to adjusting your plans, even when it’s uncomfortable. Sometimes, what looks like a setback is actually setting you up for something bigger. For example, if one path feels blocked, don’t fight it—pivot. Trust that your ability to choose yourself will always lead you to the right place.

And don’t forget to rest without guilt. It’s okay to take breaks to recharge because that’s when your best ideas will come to you. Picture yourself booking a solo trip, splurging on the nicest accommodations, and using that time to dream even bigger while staying grounded in gratitude. You’re leveling up and protecting your peace, and that’s the ultimate glow-up. 🌱✨

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PILE 3

Alright, picture this: once you hit your full potential, your life is like a perfectly designed blueprint, executed flawlessly. You’re running the show—waking up early, knocking out your goals, and moving through life like you own it. Your schedule is tight but purposeful, and everything you do feels like a step toward something even bigger.

You’ll probably have this fire inside you to keep starting new projects—like launching that dream business or taking on leadership roles that actually challenge you. People will look at you and think, Wow, they’ve really got it together. But behind the scenes, you’ll know it’s because you’ve built systems for yourself that work. For example, you might have a weekly ritual where you plan every detail, from career moves to self-care, so nothing feels chaotic.

That being said, you’ll need to make space for the unknown too. Life won’t always go exactly as planned, and that’s okay. Think of it like this: when things feel uncertain, don’t freeze up. Instead, take a moment, check in with yourself, and adjust. For example, if a big opportunity comes up and doesn’t look like what you expected, lean into it—it might just be the thing that pushes you further than you imagined.

And here’s a practical tip: track your progress. Maybe it’s a journal where you write down your wins every day, no matter how small, or a calendar where you block out “me time” just as seriously as work tasks. The key is staying grounded while keeping your eyes on the horizon.

Your focus on success will still fuel you, but it’ll feel balanced. Imagine being so confident in what you’ve built that you can finally relax a little, knowing that your foundation is unshakable. You’re not just surviving anymore; you’re thriving. And it’s all because you created the structure to let your ambition flow without burning out. 💡

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PILE 4

Okay, so here’s the vibe: when you hit your full potential, your life is gonna feel like this beautiful balance of self-love and success. But here’s the thing—you’ve been carrying a lot, especially with your sibling’s struggles. It’s tough because you want to help, but you have to realize that in order to become the best version of yourself, you have to put yourself first. And I know that’s easier said than done, especially when you love someone so much and want to see them thrive.

You’ve been trying to fix things, trying to heal others, but you can’t keep pouring from an empty cup. You’ve been holding onto a lot of emotional weight, and that’s been draining you. It’s okay to step back and focus on your own growth. I promise, you’re not abandoning anyone by taking care of yourself. In fact, the more you work on you, the more you’ll be able to help them from a place of peace.

But it’s gonna hurt a bit—letting go of that guilt is a process. You’ll have moments where you feel torn, but trust me, your potential and your future are calling you to take care of you. Your dreams, your goals—they matter, and they deserve your attention. It’s about putting boundaries in place, even if it feels hard at first.

You might not have all the answers right now, and that’s fine. You don’t have to have it all figured out, but you’ll get there. Things will come into focus when you start giving yourself permission to live your life without guilt. It’s gonna feel so freeing once you realize that your own peace and happiness are the foundation for everything else to fall into place.

So take it slow. Focus on your journey, even if it means you need to step away from the chaos a little. You deserve to put yourself first, because the version of you that is fully healed, confident, and at peace is going to be the one that thrives and makes all those big dreams come true. Your success starts with you, and you’re worthy of every bit of it. ❤️

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propertyofwicked · 8 months ago

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SCANDALOUS - OP

summary - in which oscar discovers what type of books his girlfriend is actually reading

warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff

this is my first oscar piece and i am considering a part 2! lemme know what you think! <3 (also sorry for disappearing my life has been all over the place)

masterlist the playlist

as they arrived at the silverstone track, oscar and y/n could feel the palpable anticipation in the air. navigating through the crowds was something y/n could only compare to her idea of personal hell. people everywhere, sporting the bright colours of different teams, people approaching the two of them, holding out hats and phones for oscar to sign. if this was friday, y/n hated to think what the rest of the weekend would be like - hopefully she could arrive later than oscar and avoid the hustle and bustle.

"are you going to be okay here?" oscar asked softly, concern evident in his eyes, as he led the two of them into mclaren hospitality. he wasn’t blind, if anything he could read her emotions better than he could read his own - he knew she was overwhelmed, but not quite at breaking point.

"yeah, i've got my book and headphones,” y/n replied, patting her bag quickly, “i'll find a quiet spot,” she added with a nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

“i’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked her again, holding her wrists softly in his hands.

“i’ll be here,” she replied, still smiling as she stepped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

y/n watched as oscar left, before turning on her heel and trying to find a cosy corner, tucked away from the commotion where she could read her book in peace. and as she sat with her back to the wall, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that no one could walk behind her and glimpse at what she was reading. her flushed cheeks may slightly give it away to anyone who recognised the book, but as she flipped through the pages she was met with nothing but pure, indulgent smut. it was a guilty pleasure that she seldom admitted to enjoying, and whilst she was more than content with oscar, she was too shy to admit she’d want him to do more than half of the acts she reads about.

maybe next time, she should bring a murder mystery book with her, instead of reading 82 pages of unforgiving sex scenes that are described in such detail that she could almost imagine how oscar would recreate it beautifully - yeah, maybe not the right thing to be reading at your boyfriend’s place of work.

“hi,” a voice interrupted, causing y/n to jump quickly as she looked up to see one of the hospitality staff stood in front of her, “i was just wondering if we would be able to steal this chair? i can find you somewhere else to sit - it’s just a guest would like to sit here.”

“of course,” y/n replied, smiling up at the nervous girl before moving to shove everything back into her bag, “i probably should go on a walk anyways.”

“thank you so much, and sorry for making you move - the guest is a sponsor, so they expect us to move heaven and earth to accommodate them,” the employee added with a grin.

“i understand,” y/n replied, laughing lightly as she stood, “your hair is so beautiful by the way.”

“thank you,” the girl smiled, blushing at the compliment.

oscar had been engrossed with his team, discussing strategy and making adjustments for the practice session, when he realised it had been several hours since he’d seen his girlfriend. and once the practice session had finally ended, with a full team debrief, he made it his mission to find her.

"have you seen y/n around?" oscar inquired casually, glancing over at lando who had walked into hospitality with him.

"yeah, she was sitting in the corner over there," lando chuckled, gesturing towards the quieter section of the hospitality area, “….but she’s not there anymore,” he added, trailing off as he noticed the empty chair.

"thanks mate, glad you’ve still got those keen observational skills," oscar replied sarcastically, “don’t know what i’d do without you around.”

“hey! i was just telling you where i last saw her!” lando defended, holding his hands up, ”she’s probably in a quiet corner somewhere, reading that book. she’s probably the only person that didn’t notice i’d even walked in earlier ‘cos she was nose deep in it.”

“sounds about right,” oscar hummed, pulling his phone out to shoot her a quick where are you text.

sure enough, oscar found y/n in a quieter corner, still engrossed in her book. he approached her quietly and gently tapped her shoulder. y/n looked up, removing her headphones and quickly closing the pages before smiling warmly at him.

"hey there, lost track of time?" oscar asked, sitting down beside her, pulling his legs up to his chest as his back leant on the wall.

y/n nodded, "yeah, i guess i did. how was practice?"

"pretty good," oscar replied, "we made some solid improvements. what about you? what are you reading?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her expression. "oh, it's just a book. nothing special."

oscar raised an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to share. "come on, it can't be that bad. is it some secret spy novel or something?"

y/n chuckled nervously. "no, nothing like that. just... personal. i'll tell you about it later, maybe."

"alright, fair enough," he replied, "ready to head back to the hotel?"

y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”

“that bored, huh?” he asked as he stood, extending his arms to help pull her from the floor.

“not bored, just-”

“overwhelmed? hungry? eager to see me after a shower?”

“always.”

“good to know,” he added, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "you know, you're quite the mystery sometimes," he teased gently as they began to walk to the car.

"keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" y/n smirked, “no fun in being predictable.”

they arrived at the hotel room, and as they settled in, the atmosphere relaxed. y/n flopped down on the bed, and oscar joined her, laying his entire body on top of hers, her hands moving to stroke along his back softly.

"so, how's the book?" oscar asked again, with a playful glint in his eye.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "it's good. maybe i'll let you read it someday."

"wow, such a privilege!" oscar feigned shock, “but how would i ever repay you for such an offer.”

"don't push your luck, piastri,” she replied, her arms grabbing his sides in attempt to push him off. he laughed, rolling to the side to lay next to her.

"alright, alright. i won't push. but seriously, thanks for coming with me today. it means a lot."

y/n's expression softened. "of course. i wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i'm lucky to have you, you know that?"

y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "i think we're both pretty lucky."

“i’d be even luckier if you let me read that book of yours,” he grinned.

"you're ridiculous.”

"only for you," he replied with a grin, his arm reaching across her waist for his fingers to draw circles into the skin of her stomach. his head dipped, trailing kissed along her clothed shoulder, until he was resting on his arm, hovering over her slightly, his lips finding their way to the skin of her neck.

“please,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.

“fine,” y/n replied with a loud huff, pushing herself up from the bed to retrieve the book from her bag. oscar remained on the bed, resting on his side and using his arm to hold his head up as his eyes followed her across the room.

she launched the book at him, watching as it landed just shy of his stomach.

“come and join me,” he beckoned, shuffling himself up the bed, book in hand.

“i’d rather stand here, actually.”

“ok weirdo.”

the room fell to a silence as oscar opened the book, choosing to open at a page in the middle.

“why is this all highlighte- oh. OH. oh wow,” he spoke aloud, grimacing slightly in between raising his eyebrows at the literature, “this is - is that even possible? how has he got her leg up there?”

“you can stop now,” y/n begged, climbing on the bed and stretching over in attempt to snatch the book from his hands.

“no, i don’t think i will,” he teased, raising the book above his head, though at an angle where he could still read it, “ ‘…..he said, grabbing my other leg and placing them both behind his head’ - this girl is flexible jesus.”

“oscar piastri you give me that book right now.”

“ok! ok!” he said defensively, “….on one condition.”

“…what?” y/n responded cautiously, noticing the way he smirked at her.

“you tell me, is this something you wanna try?” he asked, “the things in this book? is that what you want?”

“minus the kidnapping part….maybe?” she replied, fiddling with her fingers.

“maybe, huh?” he teased, placing the book to his side before grabbing her waist to pull her into him. y/n straddled his lap, though desperately tried to look anywhere but his face, desperate to hide the flush of her cheeks, only worsened by looking in his eyes.

“honestly, i just wanna know if im that flexible,” she replied with a laugh, still playing anxiously with her fingers whilst trying to fight against her own awkwardness.

“i know you can get at least one leg up there,” oscar joked, fingers tickling at her sides playfully, “although, you’re not very good at twister.”

“we have played twister ONCE. and i was drunk. you cannot hold that against me.”

“drunk or not, your foot was still dangerously close to going up my ass.”

“and yet no assholes were harmed.”

“speaking of.. does this book mention anyth-”

“if you think you are putting ANYTHING up there you are very much mistaken mr piastri,” y/n argued, holding his jaw in her hands to make her point clear.

“mr piastri? i prefer da-”

“NOPE! LA LA LA,” she interrupted, quickly covering her ears before he finished his sentence.

“im kidding, im kidding,” he laughed out breathlessly, holding on to her hips as his body shook with laughter, “so about this flexibility thing.”

“let me stretch first,” she told him, kissing his lips softly. y/n moved to climb off him, only half serious about stretching, but his hands stayed put on her waist, pulling her back into him. he kissed her again, a hand traveling up her body to rest on her jaw and he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip briefly.

“no need, i know a good way to get you warmed up,” he told her cheekily, his lips returning to her neck once more, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear.

“oh really?” she replied, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion, “please, go on. tell me more.”

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 fluff #op81 smut #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #mclaren #propertyofwicked #lando norris #oscar piastri imagine

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dollfacefantasy · 8 months ago

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billy butcher x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fingering i am so down bad i had to get this out of my system

Everywhere he went, you followed Billy around like a puppy. Always watching him with adoring eyes, lingering by his side to see what he was up to. At first he pinned it on you looking for reassurance as the newbie in the group, but after a few weeks, it was obvious that your attachment ran deeper. You obviously had quite the crush.

You spoke to him with more nerves in your voice. Followed his orders down to the letter and damn near saluted him when you received them. He could scowl at you or scold you, and you might scurry away with your tail between your legs for the hour. But give it some time, and you'd be back.

He didn’t know what to make of it. Sure it was... flattering, and technically, you were still doing your job well, performing on missions as you should. But at the same time, it was distracting having a sweet young thing like you prancing around him at all times, seeking his approval with each breath you took. He was supposed to be focusing on revenge, justice, saving the world and all that. But fuck, one look at you and that's all a distant memory.

At the end of the day, he's just a man. He needs to have a taste. One night when the two of you are out scouting, he gets you alone in the van. It only takes a tender look and a few words in a lilted tone of his voice to have you cumming on his fingers and your panties in the pocket of his coat. A few days later, you blow him in a public bathroom while you wait for a target to show up. After that, he eats you out at your desk in the office.

Tonight he gets you back to his place. He's sat on the sagging couch, thighs spread wide enough to accommodate you between them. He holds you there. You're bent in half with your legs up in the air. One of his arms is hooked around them for support while his other is curved around your bottom to get at your dripping pussy.

His thick fingers pump in and out. He works at a moderate pace for now, not enough to break you just yet, but the perfect rhythm to make you squirm your ass against his solid bulge. You have your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him with droopy, glazed eyes. All he can do is smirk in return.

"Feel good? You like gettin' that little cunt stuffed full?" he teases.

His voice comes out hushed despite the fact that it's just the two of you. The words rumble up from his chest against your back. You just nod in response. Any words that would have been suitable have turned to mush in the pit of your belly.

The wordless gesture doesn't stop him at all. It only spurs him forward. His entire hand is coated in slick by now, your arousal seeps out with each pump and slips over the expanse of his palm. Wet, erotic noises emanate from your center while soft whimpers pour from your lips. He squeezes your legs up tighter, smooshing your breasts down.

"I know you do, pup. Such a needy thing," he says, "Following me around like I got you collared and leashed."

You moan at the image of that filling your mind. If he wanted you to, you would. You'd kneel at his feet, bound and pretty, displaying your devotion to him around your neck. You'd rest your empty little head on his knee and zone out while he pet you and called you his good girl.

"Oh, she likes that," he chuckles as your walls clamp around him.

You nod eagerly before arching your back and yelping as his thumb starts swiping across your puffy clit.

"Atta girl. Panting like a bitch in heat for me," he murmurs and nuzzles your temple.

You whine like one too, trembling in his arms as the coils of pleasure tighten in your tummy. Your eyes flutter, lashes dusting your cheeks as you look up at him. He watches on with his own lust blazing in his eyes.

He fucks his fingers into your tight heat faster, curling them a bit to stroke that sweet spot inside you. Some drool slips from between your lips at the onslaught of stimulation. His fingers were just so fucking thick. Only two of 'em were in right now. He hadn't let you take his cock yet, but you could only imagine how snug of a fit it would be if this was any indicator.

"There you go, love. You're getting there," he praises as he continues sliding his fingers in and out while massaging your bundle of nerves.

"F-fuck," you whimper, "Gonna cum soon."

"I can tell," he rasps, "Go head and do it. Wanna see you come apart for me."

Soft noises of ecstasy bubble from your lips. You were nothing if not dedicated to pleasing this man, so you give him what he wants. It only takes a few more flicks and thrusts of his digits to get you to crash into bliss.

Your head tilts back as you cum. Your legs kick lightly in the air, but he keeps you in place. You squirm against his broad, warm chest. Your cunt locks tightens around his fingers, wishing so fucking badly that it was his cock.

He kisses you as you start to come down. His lips land on yours and capture every delicious sound you make. Your breathing calms and returns to a normal pace along with your heart rate slowing down. Your legs bend over his forearm before he lets them down gently and allows you to just sink back into his body.

You're soaked between your legs, inner thighs slippery with release. As he withdraws his fingers, your pussy is already aching for another part of him to fill it up again. You turn and slide your grabby hands beneath his shirt, but he simply boosts you up to sit fully on his lap.

"You're insatiable, sweetheart," he teases before pecking your lips.

"Cause you keep teasing me," you mumble.

"Yeah? Think so? I think I'm just taking my time with you."

"Takin' too long," you huff in response between kisses.

"Maybe you're just greedy and spoiled," he says.

You're about to reply with another bratty comment, but he flips you over and spreads you out on the couch. You hear the zipper on his pants slide down, and you're almost certain it's the most thrilling noise you've heard in your life. One look up at his eyes tells you you're not gonna be complaining in a couple more minutes.

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher smut #the boys smut #the boys x reader #the boys x you #ch: billy butcher 💌

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saetoshis · 9 months ago

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꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ON DUTY | kaiju no. 8 headcanons

⋆୨୧˚ WITH: ichikawa reno ; hoshina soshiro ; gen narumi

⋆୨୧˚ SUMMARY: where and how they like to fuck you on-base!

⋆୨୧˚ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS:

fem reader, exhibitionism, suit play [?], oral f. receiving, creampie, pet names [baby, pretty girl], MDNI.

⋆୨୧˚ ICHIKAWA RENO

one thing about reno is his ability to be sly when he needs to. thinking outside the box, considering enemy moves one step ahead - he can truly be sneaky. that might be why he so easily came up with a plan to sneak out after lights-out just to meet up with you. he found an empty office, making sure patrols or cameras were nowhere to be found.

"shh, little quieter, okay?" reno mutters under his breath as he presses his palm over your mouth gently, his other hand having two fingers buried inside your needy pussy. you're so close together, having only a cramped space to do this; your legs wrap around his waist as you sit on the desk, chest pressed up against his. "just moan into my hand, yeah, like that."

"h-hard to be quiet when you're- mm- going so hard," you whimper out airily into his hand, your head reeling back when he fucks his fingers into you a certain way. your thighs shudder around him, and you can feel his cock growing harder each second he's pressed up against you. your arms wrap around his neck, fingers flitting through his hair erratically.

"gonna put it in now, 'kay?" reno pants out in need as he replaces his fingers with his cock, sliding in languidly and savoring each and every desperate enclosure of your cunt around him. he moans out a small 'fuck' when he starts to rut his hips, letting them merge into a quick rhythm that has you clinging onto him and whimpering against his big shoulder. "f-fuck, baby... feels so good. want you to cum on my dick, yeah."

the two of you are so lost in ecstasy that you don't realize the rhythmic bump of the desk against the wall, desperately attempting to muffle each other's moans and mews as you get closer and closer. with a heavy final rut and a shuddered moan out loud, you both are sent reeling in pleasure as you make a mess of each other. reno tries to catch his breath, coming to with a small gasp, "fuck, do you think anybody heard? i should find a better place next time..."

⋆୨୧˚ HOSHINA SOSHIRO

hoshina isn't one for breaking the rules necessarily, or even one to slack off while on the clock - but tonight was different. it was unbelievably late, the whole third division command center was essentially empty, and all kaiju within a ten mile radius were silent on the radar. maybe he could get away with it...

he doesn't even bother slipping out of his anti-kaiju suit before he's lifting you onto the control panel counter, lips pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses along the crook of your neck. all he can think about is how dirty it feels to fuck you where anybody could walk in at any moment. "wanna try somethin' new i've been thinkin' about."

"huh?" you query between heavy panted breaths, slipping your thighs further apart on either side of his hips to accommodate him. you both watch closely as his fingers slowly remove your suit, wandering your waist, then your hips, then your panties. all hoshina mutters along the shell of your ear is a rasped, "i'll show you what."

you finally start to put two and two together when he unzips his own tight-fitted suit, yet keeps it on his body as he presses the head of his cock against the wet spot on your panties. he languidly slips the fabric to the side, letting out a low grunt as he presses his forehead against yours when he ruts forwards. "fuck- wanna see how much you can take with the suit on. you can handle it, can't ya?"

you nod eagerly, already letting out little whines in time with each heavy rock of his hips. it already feels more intense than usual, and he hasn't even put much force into it. you shudder when he picks up the pace, his muscles tautening each time he ruts harder in succession. it's when his hands grip at your thighs and he fucks a bit rougher that you're whimpering out behind your hand in an attempt to stay quiet. "shh- that's it, take it. think you can lemme work up to 50% tonight?"

⋆୨୧˚ GEN NARUMI

narumi doesn't have a problem playing it a little risky, especially when it comes to work. he'd rather laze around as long as possible before he has to get suited up - but backwardly, he also has no problem taking his time fucking you on a time crunch, either.

"narumi, aren't you supposed to start patrol in like, 5 minutes?" you pant out between strained whimpers, trying so hard not to get sucked into his explorative touches and tantalizing kisses. you hold back a shudder when his hand drags up your shirt, circling your nipple and watching it eagerly harden under his fingers. "can't be doing this right now..."

"don't care," he sneers and flashes you an obstinate, yet enigmatic look in his eyes as he slips your shirt upwards. he has you lay on your back as he dips his head down your chest, leaving flicks of his tongue and panted kisses on your tits. it's when his fingers start rubbing between your thighs that you start to cave, feeling a pressure building in your body. narumi looks back up at you, a mischievous glint in his gaze. "wan' you to cum all over my face before i leave. not gonna suit up 'til you do, pretty girl."

"that's so irresponsible-" you start, cut off by a shivered gasp when he slips your shorts and panties off and buries his face between your legs. his tongue swipes along your clit as his fingers dig into the plushness of your hips, little groans leaving his mouth as he tastes and tastes until he's satisfied. knowing him, it'll take a while before he is. "p-please, narumi, they're gonna yell at you."

"don't care. think they're gonna fire me? their strongest captain? nahh," narumi sneers before returning his tongue back to your clit, sucking and rolling his tongue against it over and over again. he knows you're close, he knows how your body works. it's when he uses his fingers to curl against that spot in your walls that he's moaning out, 'cum for me, cum for me, yeah', and watching you shudder as you release all the pent-up stress from your week. a voice sounds over his receiver, barking orders for him to hurry to command center. he sighs, "i know, i know. i'm on the way now."

he turns off the mic again, his little grin coming back to his face. "see? got it done in five minutes, didn't i? better wait for when i get back, yeah? not done with you just yet."

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

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pomefioredove · 3 months ago

Note

Just want to say I LOVE your writing and just spotted your event. If you’re still open could I please have 16 sugar cookies with frosting, chocolate chips, and marshmallows? (Gosh that sounds good, now I want to bake)

Hope you’re well and staying warm!

AWW THANK YOU. rounding my savanaclaw day out w this one

order #16, sugar with frosting, marshmallows, and chocolate chips

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ enjoy yourself

tropes: fake dating, only one bed, roommates AU characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, making out, a little suggestive, brief mention of hypothetical children but no mention of how the children come to be, etc word count: 700

"Nothing is going to happen,"

That was the first, and only thing Leona had said all evening.

He hadn't greeted his family at the door of the palace. He had let you do all the talking at dinner. He hadn't said a word since he gave you a briefing on his family that afternoon, before you left school.

"And don't mess this up," was the very last thing he told you.

Until now.

You look at him. On the crisp bedsheets, every little movement makes a sound. Especially with how quiet the room is.

"I know,"

"Just making sure you didn't get any funny ideas,"

The thought of having to spend the entire summer like this, with a stiff and silent and unhappy Leona, is scary.

Maybe you should've taken your chances with Crowley...

...But, when Leona came to you with an idea- you pretend to be his partner to piss off his family, he gives you a place to stay- you couldn't have refused.

"I think it's a little unfair that Grim gets his own room," you mutter.

Leona snorts. "Unfair is an understatement. But, hey, we're "dating", remember? It woulda been weird to request separate sleeping accommodations,"

You sigh. He's right, as always.

"Besides," he continues, his eyes narrowing. "You heard what they said at dinner."

You really wish he'd stop bringing that up. The memory of that, his sister-in-law's sweet smile as she suggested you two give Cheka a cousin to play with, makes you shudder.

"It was... a joke," you say.

"You know it wasn't,"

Again, he's right. Or maybe he's just honest. You sigh.

"I don't know if I can handle this all summer,"

Leona turns on his side with a smug smile, looking down at you. "Imagine how I feel. I'm related to these people,"

"Now are you happy I warned you before we left school? You're lucky you're so damn pitiful, or I wouldn't have said a thing and had a show with dinner, too."

You stick out your tongue at him, but you are grateful.

When he said they could be overbearing, you thought that was just Leona being Leona.

"They weren't supposed to like me,"

He sighs. "Tell me about it. I even fail at disappointing them,"

You sigh with him. Not even a day in the palace, and his idea was crumbling into sand and falling at your feet. His family was supposed to dislike you- the poor, magicless commoner from a place no one had even heard of.

They were supposed to awkwardly avoid you for the rest of the summer, and give both you and Leona some peace.

Instead, Falena was taken with your intelligence, you charmed his wife, and Cheka has been begging you to play with him all day.

"Well, this blows," Leona mutters, breaking the silence.

"Should we make out?"

Way to ruin the somber mood.

You shoot up in bed, eyes wide. "You JUST SAID nothing was going to happen!"

Leona scoffs, though there's an obvious smirk playing on his lips, as if he's trying and failing to be annoyed with your overblown reaction. He sits up with you.

"Relax. I was kidding,"

"Were you?"

"I was,"

You stare at each other for a moment longer, his eyes travelling across your face, his lips still curved into a smirk.

And then he closes the distance between you in the dark room and kisses you.

Once the shock has worn off and you can feel your soul re-entering your body, you kiss back. His hands rest on your waist, and then your hips, and then he's pulling you towards him with such ferocity that you end up on your back beneath him, expensive blankets thrown to the side.

You kiss in a way that you would dare not admit to anyone outside of the walls of his room, and after a few minutes, he pulls away, leaving you a breathless mess on the bed.

"Hm," he hums, running his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping up the spit that had collected there.

"...I don't know about you, but if we're going to be stuck in this room together for the whole summer, I think we should at least enjoy ourselves, hm?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader

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plutocisms · 4 months ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet for Shouta Aizawa

A (Aftercare) what are they like after sex?

He will clean you up and get you any and everything you need. He likes to check in on how it was for you and have a little pillow talk. Don’t think about moving afterwards he wants to cuddle, even if he doesn’t say it.

B (Body Part) favorite on themselves and of their partner

He doesn’t have a favorite part on himself, but if he really had to pick It’d probably be his arms, He likes when you grab onto them and compliment them.

On you he looooves your waist and is constantly keeping eye contact with you because he also loves your eyes.

C (Cum) anything to do w/ it basically

He prefers to release on your stomach (as much as he would love to inside of you, he’s against it until you guys are intent of actually trying) and can’t get enough of the way you taste, yeah he’s tying that hair up for you.

D (Dirty little secret) self explanatory

He was too embarrassed to let you know but he snuck a new headboard in after breaking one from his grip one night while having his way with you. He actually called Yamada to help him with this and to get rid of the previous one but obviously didn’t tell him the reason why even though he poked an prodded for an answer as to what happened.

E (Experience) also pretty self explanatory

He has some experience but it’s limited, he’s pretty standoffish so doesn’t normally get very involved.

F (Favorite postition) ^

Loves classic missionary, Face off, & prone bone. He’s not picky tho but those would be his go-to positions.

G (Goofy) are they more playful or serious in the moment?

This is actually one time where he can let loose a bit, he’s not cracking them left and right but he likes to tease and can actually lighten up a bit here from time to time.

H (Hair) how are they groomed down there?

Oh it’s a bit scruffy down there, trimmed but there’s deffly some hair.

I (Intimacy) are they more romantic or lustful in the moment?

He’s pretty passionate, he loves looking into your eyes during, kissing you, holding you and enjoys talking through it—not too much but just enough.

J (Jack Off) masturbation headcanon

He’s really not one to dabble, at least when he’s in a relationship and even outside of one he’s not big into it, he’s got a lot of discipline and is never really down too bad.

K (Kink(s)) self explanatory :)

He loves sleepy sex, wake up roll over in the middle of the night type shii, He’s also into the idea of being waken up with a surprise if yk what I mean. He’s into a bit of dirty talk. Tell him what you like/want him to do to you. He wouldn’t say anything about it, he won’t refer to himself as such but he low-key gets hot and bothered if you call him Daddy— it catches him off guard in a way he can’t fight off.

L (Location) where they like to do it

He loves the comfort of his home so pretty much anywhere there is a green light. The bed, couch, shower all of it. He’s open to doing it other places but you’d really have to convince him.

M (Motivation) what gets them in the mood?

He really loves seeing you your element doing anything. It’s the little things. The way you walk, catching a whiff of your scent, watching you sleep, any physical touch from you, this is a simple man.

N (No) what they wont do in the bedroom

He’s not into the idea of sharing you or anything that would cause you real pain, I also don’t see him degrading his partner.

O (Oral) do they enjoy giving/receiving?

He can eat it till you cry and then some. He loves being between your thighs and making you feel good. As far as receiving he really enjoys watching you take him all in, both are very good stress relief for him.

P (Pace) how fast or slow are they during?

He’s got a good pace, very sensual. He actually likes when you dictate the pace—more than willing to accommodate your needs. In general though, he normally picks up the pace quite a bit on his own when he’s close.

Q (Quickies) how do they feel about them?

He doesn’t prefer them over a proper session, but can still have his fun, it’s also a bit of a a turn on for him, the challenge of getting you off in a time crunch.

R (Risks) are they willing to take them?

He’s not very risky, he doesn’t like the idea of getting caught. This man risks his life on a consistent basis and enjoys the comfort and safety of you. He’s not trying anything crazy with you.

S (Stamina) how long can they last?

He’s got a solid two rounds in him before he needs a break/nap inbetween. They are long rounds and in all honesty he could last a little longer (man’s a pro hero) but performance gets a little sloppy after those first two.

T (Toys) are they into them, do they have any?

Tbh Aizawa is a little uninterested in complicating things too much in the bedroom. He’s open to suggestions but doesn’t bring any of his own volition

U (Unfair) are they a tease basically

He’s not super unfair mostly because he’s hoping if he’s not with you—you won’t be too much with him (he’s got a love-hate relationship with it, drives him nuts in a good way)

V (Volume) how loud are they during

May be a little surprising but he actually is quite talkative and has some volume. He is into giving praise with you and he lets you know just how good you make him feel. Low raspy voice, deep moans and groans, oh and he’s gonna cuss.

W (Wildcard) random headcanon

Somehow you convinced him to have a quickie after hours at the school (first and likely the last time you guys will do that because,) If it wasn’t enough to see you two appear out of the closet, Aizawa gets a flush after sex and Yamada has yet to let him live it down.

X (X-Ray) what's it looking like under the hood

He’s got good length not massive but above bit above average and it curves just slightly. He’s pretty hairy with the happy trail, little bit of hair on his thighs and legs.

Y (Yearning) what's their sex drive like?

He has a pretty standard sex drive though he initiates less than he could, primarily because he loves when you approach him, even if he’s a little too tired for the task.

Z (Zzz) how fast do they fall asleep after?

He goes to straight to sleep after taking care of your needs. Loves napping with you afterwards—it’s kinda mandatory for him.

#bnha shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #bhna aizawa #aizawa smut #Aizawa alphabet #mha x black reader #mha aizawa #mha shouta aizawa #eraserhead #eraserhead MHA #dadzawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #MHA fanart

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dovveri · 4 months ago

Text

strike a pose

synopsis: momo’s the best photographer in korea and she’ll be taking your pictures for the annual haute couture magazine

warnings: swearing, 69, mutual masturbation, filming during sex, taking pictures during sex, reader has a praise kink

w/c: 4.6k

a/n: can be read as a standalone but also follows directly from sana’s part

⌞ ⌝

"momo!"

a pretty girl with bright blonde hair pokes her head out from around the corner, eyes brightening when she sees her assistant with you in tow.

"come in! i've been expecting you! y/n right? sana told me all about you!"

"s-she did?" you gulp nervously, unsure of what exactly sana told the world-class photographer.

momo grins, "enough anyway. c'mon- let's get you changed. we've got quite a few shots i want to try out today. sana really outdid herself with the outfits this time. i can't help but think she was a little more inspired than usual." there's a teasing lilt to her voice, like she knows something you don't.

you can only allow yourself to be ushered along as hands start pulling at your clothes, makeup brushes touch up your face, and hair rollers are placed into your curls.

after your appointment with sana, she had managed to get your contact number, either through your agency or whatever else. it was mainly just for business though, she’d ask for your opinions on certain colours or ideas she had, treating you as if she didn’t fuck you senseless in her workshop upon your first meeting. you just took her lead and pretended it never happened, though every time her name lit up your phone screen you’d feel a little tingle down your spine at the memory.

"alright! let's get going team we have a lot of shots to take today!" you hear momo's stern yet excitable voice over the pop music in the studio. momo's reputation was just as prestigious as sana's, though she was admittedly a lot less intimidating. people said it was because of her general airy obliviousness that made models feel at ease and comfortable when posing for her that made her a pleasure to work with. of course, that never diminished from her actual job at hand, she was the best photographer in korea, always booked out and only shooting for the best magazines and companies across the country. she could be a little awkward but her work spoke volumes, she was simply better at communicating with her tool than with her words.

you're rushed over in your first outfit of the day, an extravagant, floral piece with a set full of colour and vibrancy. once all the stylists are done touching you up and hurriedly move out of the camera frame, momo wanders up last, smiling and adjusting your body to her desired position.

her touch is soft, barely there, it leaves goosebumps on your skin, or maybe it was the fact that the a/c was on high.

"alright?" she checks in on you, eyes twinkling.

you gulp from her proximity, the only thing separating your bodies the camera hanging around her neck. you nod sheepishly, unsure of yourself.

she smiles, "just let me know if you want to take a break or anything yeah? remember you're the most important person in the room here, if we don't have a model, we don't have pictures, so don't be afraid to make any demands at all."

you nod again, not trusting your own voice to speak, but you appreciated momo being so accommodating of you.

with that, she steps back, holds the camera up to her face, and starts taking photos.

⌞ ⌝

momo isn't the type of photographer to yell out compliments or directions while she's working. she stays quiet most of the time, only asks you to keep natural and do whatever feels comfortable. it's not awkward though, you could tell how focused she got when she was working, how much effort she put into her job, what a perfectionist she was.

soon enough, you've run through all but one of the outfits and backdrops, the swimsuit segment.

your hair is being curled into wavy, ocean-swept locks when the stylists pull out the skimpiest bikini you've ever seen. after they're done clipping together the pieces, some of them even have the shame to look away despite having seen you in all your naked glory multiple times during the shoot. you thought it was a piece that was perfectly reflective of its maker. covering almost nothing yet leaving everything to be desired, teasing in the most erotic way imaginable.

the studio has already been cold enough with the air-conditioning on full blast, but now with the new beach backdrop and a mist fan blowing directly on your body and face to give your hair the appearance of being freshly blown through with a sea breeze, you're near shivering.

it doesn't help the chills going down your spine every time momo glances over at you. and momo makes it known when she likes something and when she doesn't. and the way she was stalking towards you like you were her prey, her eyes dragging over your body again and again, licking her lips, until she's almost nose to nose with you, it was pretty safe to assume she liked what she saw.

"alright?" her voice is husky, like she's controlling herself from doing something not so work-friendly.

you can only nod, breath hitching.

"hmm... are you sure? you don't look alright."

"h-how do i look?"

she gives you a devilish glare, "i don't think you want me to answer that y/n."

"why n-not?"

she leans in even more, you almost close your eyes out of habit before you realise she's breathing next to your ear, voice low, only meant for you, "is that how we're playing this? you're gonna act stupid? or... do you have a praise kink y/n? want me to tell you what a pretty girl you are? to tell you about how i think you look absolutely succulent and how badly i want a taste? how i want you riding my face with your perfect tits swinging back and forth while you leak into my mouth, my camera set up recording every movement, every sound, every scream you'll be making because of my tongue? is that what you want to hear?"

your ears were always sensitive, even momo breathing near them has you squirming and the inside of your bikini bottoms soaked. you whimper as she whispers filth into them, feeling light-headed and desperately needing to hold onto her or you'd be at danger of falling over and exposing just what she made you feel to all of her staff.

she smirks, turning on her heel quickly and barking , "out! everyone out! good job today but I'll be finishing up these final shots myself. thank you all for your hard work."

her staff exchange glances a little uncertainly, never having been told to leave early by momo before, so they were unsure if that was what momo really meant.

momo tuts impatiently, "did you not hear me? pack up! let's go!"

her staff are prompted into movement, hastily running around and collecting their personal items before bowing out of the studio. momo glares down anyone that looks to be dawdling for too long, tapping her foot and ensuring her studio was empty before turning back to you.

you gulp, grateful the makeup on your face was covering the bright red blush on your cheeks. you both knew what was going to happen. it was a little absurd this was happening to you a second time when both times it's been 2 of the most influential people in the fashion industry. you're still in disbelief that they wanted you.

momo eyes you again with a smirk, fully appreciating you without the burden of her staff bustling around and calling for her attention in the background.

"alright gorgeous. let's do some standing poses first. whatever makes you feel the most confident."

you nod, taking in her direction and pushing one hip out, raising both arms to mess around with your hair, face morphing into a practiced smile, going for the sexy, energetic woman on the beach.

momo starts snapping away, humming and checking the photos every now and then, there were a few she took from certain angles that were a little... questionable, but you weren't one to question, so you let her do whatever her creative freedom asked her to.

"now can you lean forward? hands on your knees please."

you blush, this was a classic swimsuit stance, it would be fine, there was nothing to be shy about.

you do as she asks, switching your happy-go-lucky smile to one that’s a little more seductive.

momo takes a second to raise the camera to her eye, staring at your chest like she had lagged out. but once she does, she’s back to work, making sure she gets all the best shots.

“now lie down. on your side.”

you gulp, following her instructions. momo moves the fan to be at your face level, so it’s still blowing through your hair. she lingers a little, adjusting your face, hand on your chin. her eyes are stormy, the hint of a smirk permanently etched onto her lips. her hands drift from your chin, down to your shoulder, gliding fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. your breath hitches audibly when she slips down to your side. she hums approvingly, her smirk growing as she traces your side, your stomach.

then she slides backwards, leans back on her knees and brings the camera back up to her eyes. you’re caught as her shirt lifts, her very visible abs peeking through.

momo clears her throat, “camera’s up here darling.”

you lick your lips, not even needing to fake your next look, reeking of pure sex. all you can think about is momo’s abs, her thighs, the way her knees are spread, her biceps, her well-endowed chest, all that muscle she was packing underneath a teasing smile.

she takes the picture.

then she’s the one leaning forward, going on all fours, crawling towards you slowly.

you hold your breath as she reaches you, nudging your hip lightly so you’re lying horizontally. and then she’s hitching a leg over your side and sitting on top of you.

your hands instinctively go to her hips but she catches them, pushing them above your head, her chest smothering your face in the process.

she leans back too soon, bringing the camera to her face, adjusting herself to sit better on your hips. “there we go. you’re a pretty girl.”

you blush brightly at her comment, looking away shyly. she starts snapping immediately, grinning. you compose yourself and look back towards the camera, biting your lip, drooping your eyes, satisfied when you hear the stutter in momo's work before she starts clicking again.

once she's happy with those shots, she moves off your body, but keeps a hand on your stomach to keep you there, pushing down slightly letting you know who was directing you, who owned you. then she's propping up a beach ball, or an umbrella, you couldn't really tell you were too focused on the way her abs tensed as she lifted and shuffled things around.

she leans you back, then slides her hands down from your stomach to your thighs, pushing gently.

your eyes widen, unable to resist as she spreads your legs, licking her lips as she stares.

“m-momo.”

“hmm?”

“um- the- the photos?”

she clicks her tongue, “impatient are we? just let me enjoy the view for a little.” her eyes track back up your body, smirking at the hooded look you give her, breaths coming in and out visibly harder, your arousal too obvious to ignore.

after what feels like forever sitting in your own slick, she finally moves backwards, bringing that goddamn camera back to her face, her smirk only growing wider with each passing second, before she starts to click.

she takes a few shots, then feigns disapproval, frowning down at her camera in the most exaggerated pout you have ever seen, so you know it’s just for show.

“y/nnnnn~” it’s cute, too cute. “i don’t like these. will you… spice it up a little?”

you take a breath before responding, steadying yourself, “spice it up?”

“yeah. y’know…”

“…i-i don’t.”

momo’s expression changes immediately, scowling, her cutesy show over in a flash, “don’t be a brat y/n. you know what i’m talking about. you think i can’t see you dripping for me? you think i can’t see the way you’re squirming, how you’re imagining the way i’d feel under you, inside you? don’t make me spell it out for you. be a good girl and do what you want to do.”

she's completely right of course. her words only encourage the thoughts you've been keeping locked away since the moment you saw her. you didn't think it was professional for this to happen a second time, hell the first time you didn't think it was professional.

but you gulp, hesitantly bring your hands down to your stomach, tracing the skin there lightly. you feel your nails dig in just lightly and you gasp, hyperaware of your body and all its sensations. the cool air of the room, that fucking fan that's been blowing wet mist at you for the past 20 minutes, momo. god momo. she was so fucking hot. in that sleazy, greasy, nice-guy way straight girls found film bros hot. except momo had the face and body to match the arrogance she hid under practiced professionalism and niceties.

you whimper as a hand trails up and captures a breast.

momo grins, bringing her camera back up to her eye, more vocal now than she has been the entire photoshoot.

"there we go. now we're getting somewhere."

you feel your breaths go heavier, no longer able to hide yourself as you ache to rub your thighs together.

she notices of course. she notices everything about your body.

"don't you fucking dare. tease yourself. make it worth it. make yourself earn it."

you try and take a breath to steady yourself again, though you don't know why, each breath hasn't been helping at all, only making the matter worse as you become more and more aware of your arousal.

with difficulty, you bring your other hand to your chest, now groping both your tits, moaning fully, completely on display for her while she snaps away.

"there we go- that's good- more like that- mhmm-"

momo mumbles praises and compliments that make your head dizzy and your pussy clench. your fingers find two hard nubs that have been begging for attention since you had gotten in this glorified piece of cloth. you pinch simultaneously and let out a pathetic sound of lust.

momo gets it all on camera. zooms in even.

knowing you had an audience, that this was being recorded, it gave you a sick sort of thrill that made each squeeze of your hands feel that much better, each click of momo's finger, like she was rubbing your clit with each photo.

one hand slips under the bikini top, doesn't reveal it to the camera, but it's obvious where it is, pulling and twisting as you writhe, legs shaking, sweat collecting, desire building.

momo comes closer, sits right between your legs, keeps them open, captures your face mid-moan, anyone could hear the pornographic sounds you were making without needing film, the pictures momo took were enough. she was that good.

the heat of another person near you makes you grow desperate. "m-momo- p-please- i- i- i need-"

"hmm? what do you need darling? tell me. remember i said you're the most important person in the room. without you, we don't have pictures, without you, i don't have a job. so, what do you need?"

"y-you! please-"

"me? what do you want me to do to for you?" she cocks her head, acts confused, you know better.

"w-what you said e-earlier! p-please i'm please- i'm begging-"

"oh you're begging? why are you doing that? i'll give you anything you want darling. there's no need to beg. do you think i'm that mean?" she pouts, has the audacity to look completely innocent even while she has you under her, dripping onto the floors of her studio, hands groping at your chest, back arching trying to get closer to her.

"m-momo!"

"what?!"

you almost cry, sliding your right hand down your stomach, straight into your bikini bottoms, the waterproof material did it's job too well. you couldn't tell from the outside, but the inside, it was drenched. you moan as your fingers meet your folds.

momo doesn't even glance down, keeps staring at you in mock ignorance.

you slide a finger up and down your slit, gritting your teeth as you rub your clit harshly. too harsh, you would come too soon. you ease up, sliding back down to your entrance, hips bucking up, other hand still twisting at a nipple.

snap!

you roll your head back as your hips rock against your hand, letting her slide down and position herself right in front of your cunt, lens pointed directly at it. you can't look at her, too embarrassed as you push your fingers in and out of yourself, just centimeters away from her face, from her instrument.

you've been groping at your chest enough that the material has ridden up, half of your chest exposed to the studio, to the flashing lights at each click of momo's fingers, and fuck you needed more space. so you hastily pull at the strings tying the bottoms together, just one side while your other hand keeps pumping in and out of you. it falls away easily and you feel yourself clench around your own fingers at the gasp momo lets out, snaps growing quicker in succession.

the hand that untied your bottoms goes right back to your neglected tit, rubbing and squeezing while you hump your hand.

you risk a glance down, and you almost cum at the sight.

momo's got one hand on her camera, the other down her pants.

it's a little pathetic, the way she's grinding down on herself, trying to alleviate the tension that's built up in her lower stomach, such a pretty girl reduced to a horny loser at the sight of pussy, but it gets you so hot knowing she was affected by you.

your eyes focus in on the hand trapped between the floor and her cunt, the rapid movements giving you an idea of what was going on inside her pants. you start to match her pace, bringing the hand that was palming at your breast to rub at your clit, pushing it around in little circles as you gasp and moan and clench for her.

momo curses under her breath, cheeks flushed as she stays on her stomach, a shaky hand still clicking away, changing settings, zooming in and out, capturing every moment of your build-up.

it was too much, her focus, the way you're pulsing, the flashes of the camera. you cum.

your vision whites out, throwing your head back, unable to hear the little curses momo lets out as she pulls her other hand out of her pants, frantically grabbing for her camera to be able to capture your full glory in your orgasm, her fingers still covered in her own slick, zipper undone as she scrambles to her feet.

you keep pushing in and out of yourself, slowing down the circling on your clit until a full stop, breathing heavily as your vision returns.

you blink, looking around hazily, pulling your fingers out of yourself with a wet squelch.

you find her eventually, stumbling around with her pants fallen to her knees while she fiddles with different cameras and light settings.

your post-orgasm haze finds her adorable. so different to the woman who said she'd have you screaming on top of her tongue. she was unpredictable, your initial canvas of her was wrong. she was simply... momo. she was unique, the only person who could possibly understand her was herself, and you doubted she understood herself. but that didn't matter, because she's good at what she does and she gets what she wants.

she notices you watching her after a little, blushing and kicking off her pants fully.

"sorry y/n just gimme a second."

you smile, shaking your head, "it's alright."

you watch fondly as she finishes up, but with her legs now exposed you can't help but feel the twinge of arousal in your core as your eyes follow the muscles of her thighs, her calves, her ass when she turns and bends. she acts so oblivious but she must know what she's doing.

you sigh, leaning back and running your hands up your stomach again, appreciating the view. you finally take off the bikini top, freeing your chest and groping freely at them as momo stands back up.

she checks the camera once more, then takes off her top. her bra follows quickly after, and she turns.

her eyes narrow as she stalks towards you, chest swinging proudly as you whimper, pinching your nipples and wishing you could just bite down on hers.

"i see you started without me."

"mhmm~"

"i told you to give me a second didn't i?" she stands above you, arms crossed over her chest, pushing her breasts together sinfully. you notice the wet spot on her underwear, trying to hide a giggle but failing.

she raises an eyebrow, pulling her panties off. that gets you to stop, your mouth watering at her cleanly shaven, dripping cunt.

"something funny?"

"n-no."

"c'mon. i like funny things. tell me."

"nothing's funny."

she kneels down in front of you, on all fours, your eyes go straight to her chest.

"impatient and a fucking liar."

you whimper.

she juts a finger behind her, her eyes never leaving yours, "i'm giving you what you wanted now. what i said. that camera's filming us, so are three others around the room, just so we get every angle. now you're gonna sit on my face and look pretty. understand?"

your eyes widen, wet already from your first orgasm, fresh arousal starting to build up. you nod.

"good girl."

you squirm at the term, watching as she lies down, then pulls on your thighs to get you to kneel on top of her. you're a little embarrassed as you lower yourself, but momo doesn't give a shit. she yanks you down and starts eating like it's her last meal.

your hand comes up to your mouth in an automatic reaction, trying to stifle the sinful moan you let out as she starts lapping at you. you can't control yourself. you never could around her. your body reacts on it's own. riding her face.

momo sucks your clit into her mouth and your knees buckle. you're afraid of suffocating her but she shares none of the same concern. arms pulling you down as you try to pull away, licking and suckling.

you look directly into the camera she has set up in front of you, imagining how messed up your hair was, how utterly ruined you looked.

momo's hands are on your ass, pulling you down still, but she lands a slap, the sound echoing throughout the empty photo studio.

you yelp, gushing into her mouth. she happily drinks it up, spanking you again.

the ripple of your cheeks must be captured on the camera behind you, maybe if momo had the quality settings right, it could even see the slick flowing from your cunt into momo's mouth, onto her tongue.

you can't bear to look into the camera anymore, eyes drifting down to momo's chest.

god you could finally see her. pretty dusk-coloured peaks sitting on top of the breasts you'd only be able to conjure up in your wettest dreams. her abs flex as she huffs with effort, making sure not to let a single drop of you go to waste, working efficiently and thoroughly at your pussy, licking into every wall, every corner. her cunt glistens, you notice her thighs rubbing together and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. you do it anyway but only because momo has her tongue inside you, hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

you test her, placing a little more weight on her face. she moans eagerly around you, pulling you down further.

satisfied she can hold you up, you shift your weight onto one hand, the other tracing down momo's chest, circling a nipple.

momo groans, vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure up your core.

you grasp the flesh, squezzing as her tit spills out between your fingers. momo bucks her hips, almost shakes you off of her, but her grip on your ass is tight, she wouldn't be letting you go until you came all over her tongue.

you're still moaning uncontrollably when you lean down, still groping a tit, pressing your own chest against her abs that feel absolutely heavenly flexing under your nipples, rubbing and moving giving just the barest amount of friction that drove you insane.

you grip her thighs, resting the front of your body on hers so you could part them, licking your lips at the sight that greeted you.

her cunt was pulsating. clenching around nothing, slick dribbling out of her. she talked so much but she was just as turned on as you. you planned on giving her what she was too proud to ask for.

you dive in.

momo moans into your cunt, hips rocking up before you push her back down, lapping at her pussy.

she tastes divine. otherworldly. salty and sweet, uniquely hers, just like everything else about her was uniquely hers. momo's grunting and moaning so prettily, and you're cleaning her up, even while she continues making a mess, you know you're not much better.

you grind down against her while she rocks up into you, chasing your highs. you find her clit, sucking, reveling in the moan she sends through your body, not wanting to be beat, she doubles down, growing almost overly aggressive as she sends another slap down on your cheeks when you're least expecting it.

you can't hear each other, can't scream out the curses, her name, all you can do is grind and moan and suck.

the blinking red dot of the camera gets it all. every brush of nipples against stomach, every flick of tongue, every squeeze of ass.

it doesn't take much longer.

not when she just keeps sucking. you're sure she could draw your pussy by now, that she's memorised it all. you could probably draw hers.

your back arches as you cum, and you make sure she falls apart at the same time, massaging her thighs as she writhes and cums, whining into your pussy, drunk off your taste.

you roll off of her before she can get you going again, lying on your back, your elbows pushing you up as you finally get a look at her.

she's covered in you. huffing, throwing her head back to breathe, cum dribbling down her chin. you can't help but crawl towards her, licking it up, towards her lips.

she lets you kiss her, still catching her breath as she pants into your mouth, the taste of the both of you mixing on your tongues.

you break away, licking your lips and wiping your chin.

momo grins lazily, "i think we got some good content."

you snort, "you think?"

"mhmmm. mina will definitely be happy."

your eyes widen, "you're not showing these tapes to myoui mina?!"

"and to sana. she asked for them."

your mouth falls open, gaping dumbly at her while she laughs, patting your cheek.

"let me know if you ever need any shots done. i'll be happy to help. i'll send you the tapes too once it's edited." she winks, wobbling back up and going to check the footage.

you stare after her, still in disbelief that the three of them really were in kahoots this whole time. and then the self-consciousness hits. they were going to watch those tapes. they were probably going to cum to those tapes.

just what the hell kinda industry did you get yourself into?

#momo #twice momo #hirai momo #momo x reader #twice momo x reader #hirai momo x reader #momo smut #twice momo smut #hirai momo smut #twice x reader #twice imagines #momo imagines #twice smut #dovveri

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manikas-whims · 9 months ago

Note

request for LADS

what if u have to fake date the guys for some reason but its starts becomin difficult for ur heart cuz you start catching feelings

thank you 🙏

thanks for this request! ♡ i went a lil overboard with this LOL. WARNING ⚠️ long post..

Fake Dating the Love and Deepspace men but you catch feelings pt. 1

ZAYNE

❄️ Tara keeps trying to set you up with one of her colleagues, and no matter how subtle she acts about it, you're getting tired of it. Thus, you come to this decision! You request Zayne to play your fake boyfriend for a while.

❄️ The matter of his own feelings aside, Zayne just thinks that fake dating someone to avoid potential dates is incredibly crazy. “You can simply ask your friend to stop.”

❄️ His suggestion is baffling. You feel like an idiot for ignoring the obvious solution. But only a moment later realize that even asking her to stop won't likely deter Tara. At least not until she sees you with a person better than any of her chosen candidates.

❄️ So you decide to let go of the little self-respect you have and beg Zayne to do this for you. He is amused by this ridiculous proposition but agrees nonetheless since he can never really say no to you.

❄️ It's an amazing experience cause Zayne is the perfect boyfriend anyone could ever ask for— handsome, smart, caring, strict when needed, protective and very accommodating.

❄️ The first time Tara meets him, her eyes literally glow with admiration. And she pats your back like a proud aunt, winking suggestively as she does so.

❄️ However, Zayne has always been great at adapting to the situations at hand and soon your arrangement starts becoming a bit of a problem for your delicate heart.

❄️ It is one thing to show him off to your colleagues. But Zayne has started doing stuff like dropping you home everyday after work, his only explanation being “that's what he would do if he was your REAL boyfriend”.

❄️ And this isn't all. He's taking breaks in the afternoon to have lunch with you everyday and make sure you don't miss any meals. He slips your hand inside his coat pocket on particularly colder days. He even focuses on the little things like wiping a coffee stain from your bottom lip or gently pushing the stray strands of hair behind your ear. All this while, his explanation is: it's what he would do if he were your real boyfriend. And you aren't sure your heart will manage long if this goes on.

❄️ The real issue arises when one of your colleagues point out how they've never seen you kiss. And this makes Tara perk-up too.

❄️ In your defense, you spout some nonsense about how Zayne is kinda shy by nature and doesn't believe in PDA much. “When we're alone, he's very passionate.”

❄️ This leads to Tara and a bunch of colleagues secretly tailing you when Zayne comes to pick you up one evening. For they also wanna see this passionate side of him.

❄️ “Um..Zayne, can we kiss?” You whisper, your eyes averted, and fingers fiddling in nervousness. Its not that you are worried about the "kissing" part. Thats easy. You are actually worried about kissing Zayne.

❄️ As for Zayne, he is confused and shocked at first. Even blushes a little. But thanks to his perceptive nature, he quickly spots your colleagues and understands.

❄️ So as you clumsily teeter closer to him and raise yourself on your feet to reach his height, he chuckles at your efforts as well as the pained expression on your face.

❄️ “Relax.” He commands and magically, his words do calm your nerves a little.

❄️ He smiles then, his big arms wrapping smoothly around your waist as he lowers his head and lets his lips gently linger against yours, igniting a desire within you.

❄️ When he finally pulls back moments later, you nearly loose your footing.

❄️ This is it. The last shred of your sanity blown away. It may have only been a few moments but the kiss leaves an impact on you. Your heart can't take it anymore. Because you enjoyed the kiss more than you should have. And its made you realise that you may have actual feelings for Zayne.

XAVIER

⭐ There's this creepy resident at your apartment complex who's been trying to make moves on you but he's just been so nice and subtle about it that you have no idea how to turn him down. Thus, instead of that, you ask Xavier to play your fake boyfriend for a while.

⭐ “This doesn't seem like a good idea.” He says, hesitantly scratching his cheek.

⭐ Xavier also believes beating the shit out of the guy is a better option, and a permanent solution. But again, you can't do that because the guy hasn't actually done anything threatening or concerning. Thus, any sort of unwarranted violence against such a guy will only result in more problems for Xavier and You.

⭐ So Xavier sighs, and nods with a smile. “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

⭐ “Just do things only a boyfriend would do whenever that guy is around.” You tell him and he nods.

⭐ And so it starts with you dragging Xavier out for morning laps and evening walks around the complex, and you always make sure to hold onto Xavier's arm whenever you spot the strange guy.

⭐ But as the days go by, you sense as if Xavier may be a little too good at his new job.

⭐ One evening as you are working out at the gym on the top floor of the apartment complex, the guy walks in and approaches you. To your annoyance, he begins his usual small talk. But he's barely strung two words together when you feel the warmth of a hand gliding along your waist.

⭐ You look up to find Xavier, his clothes sweaty from workout. He tucks his chin on top off your head, his arm around your waist tightening ever so slightly. “Do you know this guy?”

⭐ It takes a moment for you to realise you're gawking! At the same guy you had asked to pretend to be your boyfriend. And it's not just his fingers stroking circles on your belly but also the way his voice sounds more intimate!??

⭐ Quickly, you compose yourself and stammer a response. “N-Not really. He's a resident just like us.”

⭐ And with that said, you're being steered out of the gym, Xavier's arm never leaving your waist.

⭐ Ever since you've known him, he rarely breaches your personal space without permission. A gentleman through and through. It's you who's been messing with his hair, squishing his cheeks and poking his chest to tease him all this time.

⭐ But ever since you asked him to play boyfriend, he's the one initiating skinship at the most unexpected moments. It's as if this fake dating arrangement has given him a free pass to do everything he usually holds back from.

⭐ Now he holds your hand whenever you're walking together, idly plays with your hair strands when hanging out at your place, and ALWAYS makes sure his arms are around your waist or face nuzzling your neck in the presence of that strange guy.

⭐ You may have been the one who requested him to do this but you aren't so sure about this whole thing anymore.

⭐ A few weeks have passed but the guy is persistent. Now he's always trying to find you when he's sure Xavier won't be around.

⭐ “It's not working. We need to do something more convincing.” You say in a deflated tone. You and Xavier are standing in the hallway of your floor, having just returned from a mission.

⭐ And that creep is lurking at the end of the floor by the elevator, waiting for Xavier to leave so he can ask you out yet again.

⭐ Xavier tucks a hand under his chin, his nose scrunching in thought. “Something more you say..”

⭐ Then in the very next moment, he pushes you against your own apartment door, a hand coming to rest upon it to keep you in place; his other hand gently cradles your face, arching it slightly before he presses his lips against your own.

⭐ Only a moment later he pulls away, then kisses you again. This time with more fervor than needed to fake it. And when he breaks the kiss again, his lips gravitate towards your neck.

⭐ “Xa..Xavier..?” You're stunned. You're not even sure how you are meant to react.

⭐ Xavier pushes away from you slightly and turns his head, his gaze directed right at the strange man. “She’s mine.” He asserts.

⭐ The man is as shocked as you are and immediately runs away.

⭐ Xavier looks back at you and flashes his usual soft smile. “This should convince him enough.”

⭐ Seriously!? Who cares about that guy anymore? Your heart is the most convinced that you may possibly be falling for Xavier.

RAFAYEL

🌊 “Miss Bodyguard, would you like to date me?” Rafayel asks one day out of the blue, and you are left feeling equal parts flustered and confused because WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?

🌊 He enjoys watching you trying to act nonchalant when your fidgety movements and flushed cheeks clearly tell him otherwise.

🌊 Finally he explains how he has accumulated quite the fanbase, thanks to not just his art but his gorgeous looks. And now these same loving fans are becoming slightly toxic with how they stalk him around, making it impossible for him to even go out in peace. Aa such, he wants to promote you from the position of his bodyguard to fake girlfriend.

🌊 You don't like the sound of it. You can already smell trouble from afar but you know he'll keep pestering until you relent. So you agree to it in the end.

🌊 Only later you realise what you've actually gotten yourself into.

🌊 Rafayel is already kinda clingy by nature but now that you've agreed to his dating charade, he's fully taking advantage of it.

🌊 Everytime he drags you out to a public spot, he makes sure that the two of you hold hands. And rather than going to places that may inspire him for his paintings, he drags you to expensive fashion brands stores.

🌊 Even as you refuse to let him buy any of it, he makes you try on the outfits for hours, making you turn this way and that, asking you to pose in specific ways as he snaps numerous photographs (which he'll definitely use as reference for his portraits of you). And just when you think it's over with all the fancy clothes, he makes you try on footwear next.

🌊 He's also buying you all these gifts you never asked for. He's basically spoiling you with things you can't otherwise afford.

🌊 He's also posting a lot of cringe yet cutesy couple photos with you on his social media accounts.

🌊 And you may not admit it but you are beginning to enjoy being spoilt like this.

🌊 Weeks pass without you even realising. This arrangement is becoming more and more dangerous for your heart. Because lets be honest Rafayel may be enjoying playing around with you like this but the same can't be said for you. You know that if this goes on any longer, your heart is bound to make space for him.

🌊 “How much longer do we need to keep this up?” You ask one day.

🌊 He merely winks at you. “Just a little longer.”

🌊 You try your best to keep your emotions in check. You just need to endure him and his charm for a little longer. Heck! You kill wanderers for a living so the matters of heart shouldn't be anymore difficult than that. Right? Right?

🌊 Oh how foolish you are.

🌊 It happens during a private gala Rafayel is invited to and of course as his “girlfriend”, you're supposed to go with him.

🌊 That, and the other reason being this crazy musician who will be there. Apparently she's been hitting on Rafayel for a while now, and your appearance may finally make her retreat.

🌊 So there, amidst the crowd of snobbish strangers, Rafayel asks you for a dance. And in the dim glow of the hall, paired with a slow, romantic tune, he feels closer than he is. And it happens..your resolve falters.

🌊 He wiggles a brow towards the corner of the room, and surely enough, you spot the aforementioned crazy musician. Indeed, she doesn't seem very happy with the way Rafayel has his arms around you.

🌊 And to deliberately spur her further, he lowers his head. His breath is ticklish along your skin as he whispers in your ear. “You’ve moved along quite well to my tune. You're a good dancer.”

🌊 For some reason, you don't like those words. Rafayel complimenting you so freely cannot be a good sign.

🌊 “Just endure a little longer, Miss Bodyguard. Tonight will be the last run of this charade.”

🌊 Then he tucks a lose strand of hair behind your ear and leans his face in, his lips gently brushing along yours before pressing harder.

🌊 The kiss is slow and lingering, just like the song being played. But it seems that the moment you begin to give in and truly relish it, the moment ends. He pulls away and smiles.

🌊 Yet you can't muster enough strength to smile back for its happened. Your resolve is broken. Your heart has already reserved the best spot for him. And you aren't ready to let go of this charade any time soon..

here's [PART 2]

i have 4-5 more LADS requests to finish. i'm working on them and will post them soon ✌️😊

THANKS FOR READING ♡

SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.

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