#no more arm pain. i am free
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i finished all 300 granny squares!!!
going to focus on finishing the scrap blanket now, then finish the striped blanket, and after that ill put all the granny squares together
#other#t talks#no more arm pain. i am free#i can finally draw regularly again đđđ#also all the other projects i have that i want to finish next year ive made plans for#i have 2 other blankets i havent worked on since like....february ...#you ever notice how fucking up the spelling for february is. that work just looks wrong.#anyways#2 blankets. 2 ponchos. 2 shirts. a tablerunner. a skirt. a scarf. and a cardigan#....i think im forgetting something#anyways!#one of the ponchos is being ripped out and will be a cardigan instead âď¸ (its wool yarn and i hate the stitches on this poncho)#the table runner will just be a like much smaller wall decoration instead cause the table is too big and i dont wanna do all that :/#so its gonna be smaller and can be a nice lil christmas decoration instead idc im tired lol#one of the blankets is already half way done. so ill work on that once i finish these current 3#the poncho i will do and 1 of the skirts are lace. i can do lace knitting p fast so ill do those after the blanket#then the skirt and tablerunner#then ill have to spend like... 2/3 of the year working on The Beast. aka the 5th blanket đ#but after that i can make the now 2 cardigans (after i rip out the poncho) really fast no problem!#and the second shirt will be a new knitting technique so that will be fun#and the scarf......i literally have no plans to finish the scarf this year ngl#ive had that bitch on the needles since 2018 im fine with it staying on the needles a while longer if it means i actually finish other shit
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[Redacted] Hanahaki AU
Hunched over the sink, [Redactedâs] body trembled as familiar pain blazed through him, before being overwhelmed by familiar nausea. Familiar tears streamed down his face, as he ducked his head and retched. He seized and writhed as he threw up, vomit and blood pooling in the sink, clinging to skin in a way that made him want to claw it off.Â
âAngel,â he croaked, voice reverent almost as if he were in prayer. But they couldnât hear him here. And, even if they could, what could they do? Hold his hair back? âThey could love me. They could love me like I love them,â he whispered to the empty room, with its cold, empty countertops.
After being sick a few more times and finally being reasonably certain that he wasnât going to be again, they peered into the basin below. Although he already knew what to expect, his doctors always advised him to confirm before doing anything else. Sure enough, hidden amongst his filth, stained white petals shone through.Â
Despite their beauty, what they symbolised or - rather - who, he couldnât help but breathe out a pained swear. Almost entire Brugmansia Arborea or angelâs trumpet blooms were coagulated in the sink, baptised in ugly shades of browns and reds. He had tainted them, as he always did.Â
He reached up to open the mirrored medicine cabinet but his reflection gave him pause. God, he looked like shit, covered in assorted bodily fluids, eyes haggard and hair ill-kept. He needed a shower, badly. He tranced a hand over the scar on his chest, like it could in any way quell the lingering pain. It never did.Â
Especially with how fully formed the flowers were, they might have to crack open his ribs and clear out his lungs again within the year and heâd barely recovered from the previous round of surgery.Â
[Redacted] knew how unusually severe their case was. How - no matter how many times they operated on him - they just couldnât fully eradicate the roots that were so deeply enshrined in his flesh, how it only ever seemed to progress faster each time, how their beautiful petals secreted sweet poison but he would sooner die than give up on his Angel.
His Angel would reciprocate in time. Heâd make sure of it.
They opened the cabinet and grabbed a new needle. He checked the packaging for the dosage of physostigmine, as he always did in case it had magically changed in his sleep (it hadnât), before peeling the needle open and filling it. Finally, with ill-deserved tenderness, he lined the needle up with his arm and gritted his teeth.Â
This part always hurt.Â
@14dayswithyou because I think I saw somewhere where they said they like being @ ed but I can remove it if thatâs what theyâd prefer
#first post#hello would you like some pain with that pain#why am i doing this#because i can#suffer#ren 14dwy#ren 14 days with you#redacted 14dwy#redacted 14 days with you#angst#hanahaki au#I was going to write a full fic where Angel fell in love with [Redacted]Â curing their symptoms but i got lazy#sorry#so feel free to imagine them riding [Redacted's] motorbike arms wrapped around him and just thinking 'I love you'#fanfiction because I'm too lazy to come up with more of my own original characters#I have too many already running amok in my brain as is#14dwy#14 days with you
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I will not do the exercises given to me by my physio, whether that be because I forgot or I'm having executive dysfunction, and then be like "Man why am I in so much pain?"
#AUGH. Hate how I need to do exercises just so I can be in less pain + maybe reach an average level of strength#I have hypotonia so. Even my 16 year old sibling of whom I'm ~3 inches taller than is stronger than me#And I have noodle arms đ Which look especially silly compared to my stocky torso#I still need to try the other things the rheumatologist recommended#CBT therapy and a med she wants me to ask my psychiatrist abt to make sure it won't interfere with my ADHD meds#She also suggested hydrotherapy but. I'm a bit more nervous abt that considering I'm pre-top surgery.#My binders SAY that you can wear them swimming safely + are chlorine resistant but they say they're a lot harder to take off wet.#Which I worry means I'd need to get someone else to take it off of me. Which like. Augh. BUT YEAH anyway.#Iron text#Edit: Sorry a little bit more actually#My next psychiatrist appt isn't until late this month. And I am. Afraid to go through all the things I need to do to get to therapy.#With the public healthcare system you can get I think 8 psychologist appts for free per year if you get a mental health plan w your gp#But I think it also depends on the psychologist? Some might require you to pay regardless? I'm not sure#I've been to psychologists before but neither of them were that great and I'm worried it's gonna be similarly difficult now
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Also, her drawing blood from someone kind of Fucked Her Up, because that went against a lot of what she was about. Even if it was an Angel and such.
But it was also mildly freeing and that's the part that really gets to her. It wasn't unenjoyable, and she's also a bit prone to having a temper. Even if she's curbed that a bit.
All of this to say that she has a lot of mental barriers up keeping her from actually reaching her demonic potential and I do not think actually getting in a real life-or-death fight is good for that.
#not for free [ ooc ]#Is A Rainbow [ Charlie Headcanons ]#ânoble are you spinning this to how she gets more powers because you're a canon-divergent b--â yes#i want the lava arm at LEAST. perhaps more. imagine.#but she's still charlie at the end of the day and she's a little gumdrop. just. y'know. now she has trauma! oh boy!#aka her not being at least on par with the overlords would be silly so if i subtly slide in some of the stuff some of them can do#into her toolbelt nobody should look at me /hj sakhvdbasjh#even if she's. not really aware she's at that sort of level because she's never fucking Done Anything like that#am i making sense? idk if i'm making sense. i'm very tired and the pain meds hit like a truck oomfies
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A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)
Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!
This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.
This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!
This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!
The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!
A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.
Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)
(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)
(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)
When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!
Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.
In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.
Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!
(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)
The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!
Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.
The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!
This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!
However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.
Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)
Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.
Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)
(my canes, for reference)
If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!
When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!
For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.
When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)
When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)
That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!
Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!
#mobility aid#cane user#writing tips#writing advice#drawing tips#art tutorial#art tips#art reference#art resources#art help#my art#long post
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Feeling very Cain from Wolves Den coded right now. Gonna be designing an outfit for him to use for the drawing and so off to firefox I go to search up: "are leather jackets good for hunting" answer is No, so I went to search something else again: "what jacket is good for hunting with a license" (i added the with a license as an afterthought cuz i feel like google wont understand me if i just put hunting on that). Which finally led me to: "shooting jacket mens"
#aria rants#now i have an idea of what to give cain as an outfit. tho i am still thinkin of leather jacket as part of a casual wear thing#i feel like hes a leather jacket type of guy. he gives me those vibes and tbf leather jackets Are pretty stylish!#i like how the shooting jackets look too it seems very comfy which tbf! ya need a considerable amount of arm space after all#that got me thinkin more about the elias drawing hmmmm... i might have to add a certain detail on that#i was thinkin like: they were on a free day where elias is comfy enough to leave its mask at home#but what if on that particular day. the two was supposed to go some place else? thats why cain has his shooting jacket on-- oh but hmmm#i was thinkin like if it was them going smwhr cain would need his equipment and like-- do i wanna draw that?#i can give him One (1) gun. hunting rifle in its case sling on his back then. as a treat. cuz i love him.#gotta return elias' mask tho. but like-- lowered on his chin in that drawing i made cuz that haunting smile#with blood seeping out from the corner of its mouth is important for the scene even more so painful somehow#cuz that means he pulled the mask down itself like ooooo thats some pain right there#i... accidentally rambled a lot on the tags whoops-- did not mean to do that now this post has long tags
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Hi hi I just found your blog like an hour ago and Iâve been scrolling and am obsessed with the way you write for the l&ds!! â¤ď¸â¤ď¸ if you donât mind I love a little angst and was wondering if you could write the boys reacting to MC showing up at their doorstep heavily injured from like a fight with a wanderer.
Oh my gosh thank you!!! And I don't mind at all, my friends make fun of me for how much I enjoy hurt/comfort and angst :'D Thank you for the request!
LaDS men react to you appearing on their doorstep, injured and bleeding
Xavier -
If you end up at his door, it's more than likely because your unconscious decided to hit the button for his floor rather than your own. You just wanted to get home, not bother anyone, but he's stood right there. Having just come home from grabbing a late night snack from a nearby convenience store, you stumbled out of the elevator right as he's unlocking his front door.
He drops his keys and his bag.
It's a good thing too, because your legs gave out right then, so it's much better for him to catch you if his arms are free.
He's calling your name, and while you're still conscious, you're not really processing anything anymore. You're in too much shock, and you've lost too much blood by now.
He'll get the door unlocked and rush you inside his apartment, setting you down on his couch as he runs for a first aid kit, calling the association for emergency services while he does so.
"You're going to be okay. I promise. Just continue to breathe, alright?"
Xavier doesn't know if he's saying that to comfort you or himself, but he also isn't stopping to think about it, as he rapidly administers first aid to your wounds to at least slow the bleeding until help can arrive.
It's three in the morning but he's wide awake sitting next to your bed at the hospital, something unnatural for someone so sleep deprived usually.
He can't bring himself to shut his eyes though.
It's not work the risk.
Not until you wake up first.
Zayne -
It's like his brain splits into two the moment that he sees you standing there.
One side is his medical knowledge rushing forward as he moves to catch you as your feet stumble beneath you, trying to impossibly assess the extent of the damage before even getting to see it all. It's the half that's taking you to his kitchen table, because it's the easiest workspace for him right now. The one that's pulling out his doctor's bag from the closet in the hall, and the first aid kit from the cupboard in the kitchen as he cuts your shirt open.
The other side?
Oh honey, his heart is breaking.
If you think there's a day at work where he doesn't pray to any existent or nonexistent god that he doesn't see you today, spread out on a gurney or operating table without warning due to your unconscious state, then you'd be painfully wrong.
It's amazing how well he works while panicking on the inside, his skilled hands patching your wounds after meticulous sterilization, any sutures needed placed perfectly even through your pained groans tugging at his heart.
He knows he needs to get you to the hospital, even though he's taken good care of you in his own home. But he needs to sink to the floor for a minute, his back dragging against the wall as he heaves a deep sigh. It's a heavy toll feeling the stick of the dried blood on his hands- your blood on his hands.
With all his knowledge, he knows you'll be okay. He knows he himself will be okay. But right now-
He's not.
Sylus -
The N109 zone is beyond dangerous, mostly due to the criminals and leeches lurking in the dark shadows, but there's also no shortage of Wanderers, including ones that have been genetically altered to be even worse than they normally were.
So when Sylus sees you stumbling at his doorstep, bloodied hand reaching for the knob as he glances at the camera feed, he's not sure he could say he's ever moved so fast in his life otherwise. "Sweetie-" He breathes, as he catches you, scooping you up and rushing you inside as quickly as he possibly can without aggravating your already extensive injuries.
Luke is already running for first aid, and Kieran is already contacting the doctor. Mephisto is shrieking in the hall as he follows Sylus to his bedroom, protesting the fact that Sylus had needed him for surveillance of a target today instead of watching you.
Sylus knows.
He knows this is his fault.
If he had had someone keeping an eye on you, this wouldn't have happened.
His eyes are glued to your barely conscious form in his arms, the guilt in the recesses of his heart digging deeper with every slather of red that painted your skin.
Sorry to say, you're going to have your work cut out for you when you wake up. It's going to take a lot of heavy lifting on your part to convince him that he's not at fault for what happened to you.
And you will be waking up.
Sylus will make sure of that.
Rafayel -
Don't make his nightmares a reality.
Not again.
He's catching you before you can even begin to sway, and he'll be lucky if he remembers to shut the door behind him, his body melding against yours as he picks you up and runs down to his car.
"No, no no no. You stay awake, cutie."
He's definitely breaking at least a dozen laws just trying to get you to Akso hospital as quickly as he can. His mind is racing as fast as his car is moving down the streets, wondering what could have happened to you, what he should be doing right now, if he should have administered first aid to you before taking off-
But he's there so fast, it would have been nearly identical on the clock regardless of him still choosing to rush you to the hospital, or run to get and administer first aid for you from within his home.
He's there until you wake up- wide awake no matter how long it takes. It could be minutes, hours, days- he can't sleep. The image of you dying before him- the image of you standing on his doorstep as well- etched on the back of his eyelids every time he tried to close his eyes.
He talks to you even when you're not awake, stroking your hand, your cheek, the side of your neck- trying to make sure you're as comfortable as he can make you.
When you wake up again, he has to hold himself back with everything in him from squeezing you too tightly. He doesn't want to burst your stitches or harm you, but his body and arms are all-encompassing on you as he hugs you firmly, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
He really doesn't need you to see him cry.
#.writey#love and deepspace#lads#lds#x reader#sylus x reader#lnds#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#hurt/comfort#angst
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FFSâ Guide to Mattresses:
The following is a non-comprehensive list of questions I get asked a lot and is hopefully a good resource for anyone looking for a new mattress. I am not a scientist. I just sell beds. All bed knowledge is centered in the US, my apologies to international folks.
If this guide proves helpful you can consider popping a tip over on my Ko-fi to say thanks!
Whatâs the first step?
Well, first thing is gonna seem kindâve obvious but a lot of people get mattresses secondhand and donât think about it. Determine the feel you like! Thereâs no reason to sleep on a hard bed unless you like it, itâs not any better for your back. The three standard feels are firm, medium, and soft. Soft is called plush for stupid reasons. So find out which you like! Itâll narrow down what you look at, and save you time.
When trying out mattresses, use an A-B method. Do not compare every bed. Compare two at a time, otherwise you end up a confused mess. Pick one between the two that you like better, then put that one up against the next choice.
When you eliminate a bed itâs dead to you. Forget it. It was not as good as your new favorite and does not deserve to be remembered. If you cannot pick between two you will be tempted to try a third- this is the devil talking. A third will just make your life harder. If you truly canât pick between beds that are comparable and they both feel nice after feeling your feelings then pick the cheaper one.
Lastly, mattresses are a huge example of âyou get what you pay forâ. Investing will pay off. Donât get sticker shocked, budget what you can but know that mattresses can be freakin expensive. If you go into a store and see $5000 price tags, donât worry, thatâs not all they carry, but focus on the feel of the bed at first rather than price tag.
If you find one you love but itâs too much, the salesperson will know a comparable roll down or will usually try to help you get a deal. If you can admit, âI like this but itâs too muchâ theyâll work with you to find a solution.
What firmness is best?
This varies person to person but firm beds are not necessarily better for your body. Really. Thereâs two parts to a good mattress: support and comfort. Support goes underneath and is generally springs or incredibly dense foam. If a bed has good support, you can get away with lots of comfort.
The comfort layer exists to be gentle on your joints and pressure points. People who sleep on their side really need this comfort layer. Without this your shoulders and hips canât circulate blood and youâll end up tossing and turning every time your arm starts to fall asleep.
Back in the 1950âs when interconnected coils were the only thing on the market it made sense that you needed them to be firm, otherwise youâd get no back support. But nowadays coils are individually free standing, they do a much better job supporting bodies and bonus, they donât have to be rock hard.
Most people should get somewhere around a medium bed rather than super firm or super soft but it depends on the persons preferences as all three can be good for you.
How can I tell if a bed has good support?
Iâm so glad you asked. You lay on it. Thereâs a natural curve to the human spine. Lay first on your back. The arch in your lower back, thatâs your lumbar. A good bed will push up and fill that area. If your muscles are trying to maintain that arch all night without help it will cause back pain and tossing. The more a bed fills your lumbar the better you can sleep.
Next, lay on your side. Youâll want to focus on your shoulders and hips. Good support on your back is great, but a mattress should have enough squish not to pinch off circulation. Lay for at least five minutes on your side unless you hate it right off the bat, Iâm not saying every bed needs this in depth just the one youâre seriously considering. If you feel like you already need to roll over itâs too hard, go softer.
Should I get a topper?
A thousand times no. Toppers are used as a wide ranging bandaid from âthereâs a hole in my bedâ to âmy back hurtsâ. Commercially available foams in toppers are significantly worse than the foams found in beds. They break down faster and sleep hotter than what they make mattresses with.
The only scenario in which you need a topper is if youâre stuck with a bed thatâs too firm for you and you need it a little softer. Thatâs it. It can make your bed a little softer. It cannot fill holes or fix a bed with bad support. Generally aim to be over $200+ or the topper will break down ridiculously fast and be super hot to sleep on.
What do I do if thereâs a divot in my bed?
First off, waterproof protectors can help avoid this problem, so take your bed divot as a life lesson and use a protector on all beds going forward. Our sweat and humidity breaks down foam like nobodies business, causing permanent damage.
So you have a divot, what now? Depends how entrenched it is. When beds get slept on every night for years the foam where a body lays compresses down, and the foam around it stays untouched. Youâll naturally start sinking. But you can get up and walk or crawl along all the foam that isnât get slept on. If your divot is years deep it may be beyond saving but itâs worth a shot.
You can also rotate beds head to foot every six months and switch the side you and your partner sleep on or sleep all over the bed if youâre alone in it.
If the bed is over ten years old thank it for its service and get a new bed.
When should I get a new bed?
Itâs worth checking your sleep quality at ten years into a mattress. The average life expectancy of a bed is 7-9 years. Not because the bed gave out necessarily but because human bodies change. We gain and lose weight, suffer injuries and age. A bed that worked for us eight years ago might not be what we need anymore. So just general age check is good. This is subject to the kind of mattress, bed in a boxes average 3-4 years of comfort so check in sooner.
But additionally: if your bed has a deep body trench where youâve been sleeping, or if youâre waking up achey or in pain. Thereâs health problems that can reduce your sleep but a lot of people never suspect their mattress is sabotaging their rest, so keep it in mind.
How do I clean my bed?
Oh boy. You donât. This goes back to water proof protectors. Your bed is not something you can pop in the wash. But it is something you will sweat and live in for upwards of ten years. Dust mites, dead skin cells, dust mite corpses, dust mite feces, allergens, skin oils. All those things will seep into the bed over time and spoiler alert itâs not great to breathe it in every night.
Sheets only catch a fraction of it, so a waterproof protector keeps the bed safe from your sweat breaking it down, but it keeps you safe from all the things that can build up in a mattress.
If you must clean a mattress I recommend a professional steaming service rather than trying to do it on your own but take this going forward: always protect your bed.
When should I get a new pillow?
Does your pillow have a waterproof protector on it? If no the answer is probably âright nowâ. Doctors recommend keeping a pillow no more than two years. This is because theyâll lose support and get yucky gross over those two years. If you get a memory foam pillow and get a protector on it they can last way longer. My oldest pillow was around seven years old.
Cheap polyfill pillows you buy at Target or Walmart are really only going to last three months before they wear out. If you are using more then one pillow at night you need a new pillow. Every time you have to wake up and adjust the multiple pillows youâre losing sleep.
Memory foam pillows can be more expensive but will last exponentially longer so save up and spend $50+ on a pillow youâll actually get to use for a long time rather than $10 on one that will give you a few months of comfort.
What do I look for in a good pillow?
A good pillow is an extension of your spinal support. It should keep your neck aligned with your spine. Ideally, you are laying on a bed to try out a pillows height. It should match the width of your shoulder.
Most mattress stores can fit you for a pillow, but you can also bring a buddy to check your spinal alignment is straight. Side sleeping is most critical to get the height right. Back sleeping you just donât want it too tall to force your chin down, and stomach you want it low enough not to push your neck up.
I replaced my pillow, now what?
Okay so now you might curse my name for a few days. Bodies are creatures of habit and hate change. Your neck might be in agony on the old pillow but it's familiar agony. So when you boot that sucker to the curb don't throw it out right away. As if I'd ever actually throw away a pillow when I could just hoard it forever.
Start each night on your new pillow. If you wake up in pain, switch back to the old one. Each night you should be able to stay on the new pillow longer and longer until your neck is finally happy. If the new pillow is consistently an issue after a week or more it may be too tall/low for you, unfortunately.
If Iâm sleeping well do I really need to replace it (beds/pillows)?
Are you really sleeping well? Replacing beds or pillows is inherently stressful and a lot of peoples happy place is their bed. Itâs hard to give up aspects of that cozy zone. If youâre really truly sleeping well no one is gonna make you change.
But generally if you find yourself asking this question you may be trying to convince yourself that things are good enough and ignoring that they could be much better.
Get a sleep tracker if some kind. Let it run for a week or two to see how much youâre tossing and waking up. If itâs a lot and your bed/pillow are old, itâs a good bed theyâve served their time.
If you ever wake up to readjust pillows (or at any point youâre using more than one pillow or mattress) then yes. You need a new one.
Good sleep is the result of the least disruptions. Anything you need to adjust in the middle of the night deserves a hard look and a boot to the curb.
Why shouldnât I have my mattress flat on the floor?
Mold. Mold mold mold. Remember when I talked about how human bodies are humid? We put out a ridiculous amount of moisture as we sleep from exhalations to sweat. That builds up in the sponge under you and then your body heat maintains the ideal temperature to grow all sorts of nastiness.
You would not believe the amount of molded out beds Iâve seen. Even in the most arid areas, mold. Itâs not worth it. Do not leave your bed on the floor. Thereâs like 2â frames if you like a low bed. If you must have your bed on the floor tip it up against a wall to ventilate every day. Mold will not wait for an invitation.
Japanese futons get brought up a lot here and first off- they get moved every night and washed regularly. Then left to ventilate. They understand that if they left it there it would mold.
Why do I sleep in X position?
Generally your body really wants your spine to curve in the right ways. Sleeping on your back would be ideal if the bed gave you everything you needed but most beds struggle to fill the lumbar. So when your muscles canât hold your lumbar curve and want a break you roll onto your side.
Stomach sleepers are a case of back muscles fully declaring that nothing can support them and opting to invert rather than deal with poor support. Itâs fully the worst sleeping position.
Before I sold beds I was almost 100% stomach sleeper due to scoliosis and back pain. Sometimes side. When I got my new bed I switched to only side and occasionally even back, which astonished me. As my bed has become less what I need Iâve reverted to occasional stomach bouts and less back sleeping.
Why donât you like bed in a box?
Let me count the ways.
Box beds are the fast fashion of the bed world. They essentially corrupt the support part of the bed equation in order to get a product that can feasibly roll up and be compressed down. The foams are all lower density than they should be and give out quicker. The coils are significantly less steel.
The world cried out for an inexpensive bed and companies responded by giving you significantly less bed per dollar. They often use fiberglass as their flame retardant a requirement for all beds and thereâs many testimonials about how poorly thatâs gone for people.
But now the greatest sin of boxed beds is that they have the audacity to be marketed at the same price points of traditional beds that donât roll up.
This robs the consumer of longevity. Theyâre a rip off. I sell them now at my store and I will do everything in my power to turn folks away onto beds that will actually do their damn job rather than bed mimics.
If you have a bed in a box, please understand that youâll still get up to five years out of it, and youâre not foolish for buying one. Theyâll still always be better than an old broken bed, just look to replace it sooner.
What is a good price point for a new bed?
This is really subjective, but you can get a queen size bed with independent coils for around $600. Thatâs the lowest good back support Iâve seen. Youâll get ten years out of it and itâll be a bed.
Stepping into the $1000 mark gives better back support and pressure relief. Up from that theyâre going to get more conforming.
Beyond $2000+ youâre generally paying for cooling. Itâs the number one thing people want in a new bed but it costs more to give.
Rank Costco, IKEA, or bed in a boxes?
Bed in a box are my lowest tier, for reasons Iâve spoken of at length.
IKEA is next. Theyâre generally not boxed as of the last time I investigated ikea beds but theyâre also just bare bones. Not a lot of either support or comfort, they tend to be around dorm quality.
Costco is a bit of a cheat here. See, theyâre a wholesaler but mattresses arenât something that overstocks- theyâre made to order. Costco still wanted to offer a cheap option. So Costco gets beds made to order for really cheap. Now how can Costco offer it so much cheaper? By putting roughly 1/3 less stuff in it by category.
I had a spreadsheet laid out at one point to compare a sealy I carried against what looked like a comparable Costco bed. Every single component was shaved down. Each layer of foam, each coil, they all were about 1/3 less material than our better bed.
Now of course Costco sells boxed bed. So a non-boxed Costco bed is still better than an old broken bed and Costco will basically always take it back which is why they score higher than others but youâre still only going to get about three to five years out of it.
Do I really need a new boxspring? My old one is fine!
Is it really actually 100% fine? Is it just as old as the mattress? Are you willing to gamble the price of the new bed on the existing structural integrity? Itâs been load bearing for the lifespan of a bed and the amount of boxes that are actually good to continue service are few and far between.
A few reasons to get new boxes: new beds are made much more floppy than old style to accommodate adjusting on adjustable bases. Old boxes may not offer adequate support for a new bed. Ideally whatâs going under a new mattress is solid. No gaps. If you have slats itâs still ultimately better to put a bunkie board under the mattress rather than sitting it right on the slats. Also mattress manufacturers wonât warranty a bed that is on old boxes or improper support.
Adjustable bases are a wonderful replacement for box springs, bunkie boards should go over slats greater that 2â apart, and try to avoid frames that leave big open spaces under the bed.
If this guide was helpful you can consider popping a tip over on my Ko-fi to say thanks!
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Feels Like Sabotage | Charles Leclerc x Red Bull! Reader
Summary: The Grid have decided that this is the season to see who can injure Yn the most. (Not intentionally, they all feel terrible about it). Fed up of seeing his girlfriend injured, Charles decides to enact revenge.Â
Pairing: Platonic! Grid x reader. Charles Leclerc x Reader (slight)
Warnings: swearing, slight injuryÂ
Word count: 3.3k
F1 Masterlist
ââââ ŕźťđĽ¸ŕźş ââââ
#1 Lando Norris
Cheers thundered throughout the track, vibrating through the floor and buzzing into the bodies of the podium winners. Max Verstappen stood in the middle, arms raised high as he bared his Grand Prix trophy to the roaring crowd. Another successful race, another win under his belt. The Dutch anthem was still ringing in his ears, and his smile widened as he turned to his left, finding his teammate beaming with her P3 trophy in hand. A double podium for Red Bull and another step closer to the Constructors Championship.
Jumping down from the P2 podium, Lando raced over to his friends, eager to share in their victories. He threw his arms around Max and Yn, dragging them both into a hug and shouting congratulations into their ears. Disentangling herself from the papaya racer, Yn turned to face the crowd, eyes scanning for a dark-haired Ferrari racer. Dimples deepening as he made eye contact with her, Charles blew his girlfriend a celebratory kiss. Unimpressed that Yn was distracted and not listening to his overjoyed shouts, Lando waved his arms about in front of her, hoping to garner her attention. Miscalculating his movements, his face morphed from delight to terror. Around them, cameras caught the moment that Ynâs face morphed from heart eyes to pain as the trophy came into contact with her skull.Â
âOh, fuck! Yn, I am so sorry! Oh, no. That was so hard.â
Recoiling from the McLaren driver, her free hand came up to nurse the red mark forming on her forehead. Lando chased after her, apologies spilling from his mouth. Yn beat him back with her elbow.Â
âDid you just hit me with your trophy?â Yn asked in shock. âI didnât even beat you.â
âI didnât mean to. I was waving it about andâŚâ
âAnd they say F1 drivers are coordinated,â chuckled Max, walking over to his teammate to inspect the damage done to her skull. He winced jokingly, fingers prodding the dark bruise forming. âOh, dear, you have a bump.â
âYour protective P instincts are kicking in.â She teased, jerking back as pain lanced down the side of her face. âYou going to put a Disney princess sticker on it next?âÂ
Max laughed, the melodic sound breaking through the ringing in her ears. âNo, no. I will save those for Lando after Charles runs him off the track.â
The three winners glanced down at the aforementioned Ferrari driver, although Lando quickly looked away. Fury blazed in his blue eyes at the dark mark on her forehead.Â
Sighing deeply, Yn placed the bag of ice (long since melted into water) on the table in her driverâs room. Post-podium interviews were always draining but it seemed to drag more so today. Although that might have partly been due to the pounding headache and the dull ache behind her eyes. After the disaster on the podium, the journalists had focused less on their momentous success and more on the injury she had sustained at the hands of Lando Norris.
The internet had already turned their moment into a meme, laughing at the incident, but the journalists decided to take a different route, complaining that Lando had done it deliberately. Fielding those questions was always soul-destroying, especially when they liked to twist whatever you said. Three short knocks sounded at her door, and it clicked open before she could turn from the mirror.Â
âMon amour.â Charlesâ head poked between the gap before wincing slightly at the look on her face. âDoes it hurt? I canât believe Lando hit you.â
âHeâs like an excitable toddler.â
Charles pulled her into his arms, glancing down at his bruised girlfriend. âYou look like an Ĺuf.â
âSaying it in French doesnât make it any less insulting, Charles.âÂ
âYou are the most beautiful egg I have ever seen,â he grinned, pressing a kiss to the wound Lando had left.Â
#2 Daniel RicciardoÂ
Sweat ran down the back of Ynâs neck as she gripped the steering wheel harder, flying through turn six. She tapped the brake slightly as the back of a Ferrari came closer, slowing down.Â
âWhat is he doing?â
âLeclerc seems to be having an issue.â
âNo shit. He fucking slowed right down.â
âOvertake when you can.â
âTell me how to do my job, why donât you?â
Pushing the car forward, she inched past the Ferrari as they approached the next turn. Her teeth clenched tightly together as he faded from view, running right alongside her. She felt sweat run down her cheek as her heart pounded in her chest and tried to focus on her breathing. She could do this. Just a little more.
âFantastic job,â her engineer praised. âP5 now.â
Glancing in the mirror, she startled at the sight of Charles skidding off the track and onto the gravel, coming to a stop just before the barrier.Â
âIs he okay?â
âGearbox malfunction. Leclerc is fine and out of the car. Car behind is Ricciardo, two seconds.âÂ
âOkay.â
Relieved that Charles was fine, Yn returned her attention back to the track, doing her best to keep the McLaren behind her.Â
âDefend. Heâs going to try and overtake.â
Turning the corner, Yn kept on the inside, yanking the wheel in order to achieve the tight turn. Despite pulling left, she felt the car veer off to the right, ignoring her command as she slammed her foot down on the brake. Her body snapped forward as the car came to a sudden stop, smacking into the foam barrier. The plastic coating with Pirelli splashed across it broke, landing atop her head.Â
âYou okay?â
âWhat the fuck was that?!âÂ
âRicciardo made contact.â
âNo shit. He fucking shunted me into the wall!âÂ
âObviously weâre going to have to retire the car.â
The cameras honed in on the Red Bull racer as she pulled herself out of the car. The crowd sighed in relief, pleased that she was alright but recoiled as she turned, violently kicking part of the plastic barrier. âFuck!â
Storming over to the McLaren garage, Yn called out for the other driver forced to DNF. Behind them, the race was continuing, only another ten laps left to determine who would find their way onto the podium. And Yn wasnât one of them.Â
âWhat the fuck was that! Do you know how to drive?â
âMe? You turned into me!âÂ
âDonât give me that shit! I was ahead of you, I was doing my turn first! You fucking clipped my wheel because you didnât leave enough space and you want to blame me.â
Flashes of light went off around them, capturing the furious racer as she yelled at the sheepish Australian.Â
âI am sorry but coming in here to yell at me wonât put you back in the race.â
âNo, it wonât because my car is fucked! Learn to fucking drive next time.â
âA pleasure talking to you as always, LN.âÂ
âSuck my dick!â She yelled back, ignoring the numerous journalists smirking to themselves over their next juicy headline.
Debriefed and dismissed for the evening, Yn dragged her weary body out of the Red Bull motorhome. Despite having been cleared by medical, she was covered in bruises and looking forward to a night off.Â
âFancy seeing you here.â Charles teased, taking his hand out of his pockets and holding it out for her. Lacing her fingers through his, Ynâs broke out in a smile when he pulled her closer.Â
âYou didnât have to wait for me.â
âWhat sort of boyfriend would I be if I didnât drive you back to the hotel after your accident.â
âBut, my car-â
âWill be dropped off later. Iâve already sorted it, mon ange.â
âYou take such good care of me.â
Charles bent down, lips tracing her ear. âIt does not end here. What do you say we take a bath when we get back?â
Yn laughed, leaning into him as his breath tickled her neck. Before she could answer, the pair of them were out of the paddock and assaulted by the media.Â
âYn. Yn. How are things between you and Daniel after your argument today? Things looked to be quite heated.âÂ
âDaniel and I will be fine. We havenât spoken since our argument but itâs very hard to remain mad at someone like Daniel.â
âCharles, do you feel the same way? After all, it was your girlfriend he crashed into.â
âObviously there was a bit of anger at seeing someone you care about crash. Um, but Yn is a driver much like anyone else. These things happen. If she forgives him then that is all that matters.â
The two drivers excuses themselves, walking past the rest of the media without stopping. Charlesâ arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. A muscle in his jaw ticked and he was relieved when they entered the safety of his car.Â
âYou handled that very well.â
âCould you tell I was furious?â
âNo. You were very diplomatic.â
âJust another name to add to my list of people to hit with my car.â
âChar, you canât say things like that,â giggled Yn.
âOnly to you.â
#3 Lewis Hamilton
Waving at the crowd, Yn made her way across the paddock, eager for the day ahead. Another Sunday, another race, another chance at the podium. Stopping every now and then to take pictures with fans, Yn chatted animatedly with her PR manager as they discussed her upcoming media obligations. Unlike her teammate, she was much more amiable towards media appearances but only enjoyed the ones that didnât feel more like a conference.Â
âBeep beep,â a British voice called out behind her, alerting the two women clad in Red Bull polos that he was approaching. âGood morning, lovely ladies.â
He pulled up alongside them, foot slipping off the brake. Instead of coming to a stop, he felt the scooter roll over a bump in the end. Jumping off the two-wheeled contraption, he winced as his on-track rival hopped around clutching her left foot.Â
âI am so sorry. I didnât realise your foot was right there.â
âWhy canât you walk like everyone else?â She grumbled, wincing at the throbbing sensation when she put her foot flat on the ground.Â
âBecause itâs slower?â He offered weakly, looping her arm around his shoulders and helping her hop the remaining feet towards the Red Bull garage.Â
Interested in the laces of her shoes, Yn shuffled in her seat. The top half of her racing suit had been discarded, tied around her waist, but when she sat down the sleeves had created an uncomfortable mound. P4 had been a helpful finish for the battle for Constructors but she couldn't help the disappointment at her finish. Lando, noticing her movements, asked if she was still in pain. One of the journalists called her name, preventing her from answering.Â
âWe noticed you limping earlier when you got out of the car. Was that in relation to the videos of Lewis helping you into the Red Bull garage earlier?âÂ
Lewis shifted awkwardly in his seat, offering the young woman another apologetic smile.Â
âUh, yes. Unfortunately, earlier today, Lewis ran over my foot with his scooter. I have some lovely bruising to show for it.â
âDo you blame Lewis? Do you think that was what stopped you from achieving P1? Perhaps it was deliberate.â
âBoth Lewis and Toto made their way down to the Red Bull garage to apologise personally. It absolutely wasnât sabotage. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unfortunately, yes, my boot was tied looser than usual, and putting pressure on my foot was painful in terms of braking. However, the onus is on me in terms of my performance. I donât feel like I gave it my best today, and Max is very fast,â she finished with a laugh, earning scattered laughter from the room.
A buzz sounded in her pocket and she discreetly slipped her phone from it, checking the notification. The little race car next to the name had her smiling.Â
Charles: You. Me. Celebration later? Iâll find the greasiest food
Yn: I miss you. This conference sucks
Charles: No, you miss being in the podium conference. Donât lie to me x
Yn: That too
#4 Max Verstappen
âAnd that, ladies and gentlemen, is another perfect 1-2 for Red Bull! I imagine itâs smiles all around in their garage.âÂ
The Dutch anthem was still ringing in her ears when the 2nd place trophy was placed in her hands. Grin plastered across her face, Yn raised her trophy high in the air, relishing in the roar of her team, watching down below. Once Charlesâ trophy had been securely handed over, and the presenters had scurried off the stage to safety, Max lunged forward for the large champagne bottle. Shaking it profusely, he popped the cork and aimed at his teammate.
Not even having time to reach for her own bottle, Yn was waterboarded by the bubbly liquid. Spluttering violently, she clapped her hands over her face, trying to ward off the onslaught of champagne. It was up her nose, down her throat and, most painfully, burning her right eye.Â
âMax, you bastard,â she hissed, stumbling towards the edge of the stage where her engineer was waiting with a damp towel. Pressing it tight against her eye, she grumbled to herself about the dangers of champagne.Â
âOh, bebe, not another injury.â Charles murmured, glancing at her bloodshot eye. Champagne rolled off the tip of his hat, flicking the tip of her nose.Â
Max bounded over next, laughing in elation at his win. He apologised at the sight of her eye but it felt a tad insincere when he followed it with, âThey should call you the driverâs champion of non-race related injuries.â
âMore like the champion of idiotic work colleagues.âÂ
âDonât be like that. You love me really.â Max pulled her in for a headlock, wet arms wrapping around her head. Yn stomped on his foot when another drop of champagne rolled into her stinging eye.Â
Fiddling with the cord of her microphone, Ynâs high from achieving P2 faded with each passing moment. Winning a podium was euphoric until she remembered it entailed a ninety minutes press-conference afterwards. Ignoring how badly she wanted food, Yn leaned over, whispering to Max, who looked as equally bored as she.
Charlesâ hand slipped from her thigh as she moved, and he shook his head with a smile when he caught her gossiping. Her teammate grinned at whatever she said before the pair of them heard her name being called. Snapping to attention, Yn pulled away from Max and sat upright in her chair.
âApologies but would you mind repeating the question?â Yn asked sheepishly.Â
âFollowing your recent accidents at the hands of your fellow racers, thereâs rumours flying around that the male members of the Grid are opposed to your presence on the track. Care to comment?âÂ
Yn leant forward towards her mic. âI must admit Iâm starting to believe these rumours,â she let out a small laugh, informing everyone she was joking. âNo, no. In all seriousness, I do seem to be getting attacked an awful lot by my fellow racers this season - uh, most recently was being blinded by Max after the podium - but I donât believe there is any animosity behind it. Theyâve all been very apologetic. Iâm just unfortunate.âÂ
âMon amour maladroite,â whispered Charles but the microphone picked it up regardless.Â
Fake frowning at him, she reiterated for the crowd. âThereâs a lot of love between me and the rest of the drivers so these are all just inCHIdents.âÂ
Charles looked at her in shock, offended by her mockery. âHey!â He whined. âIâm the only person not trying to sabotage you.â
Yn pressed an apologetic kiss to his cheek and the cameras lapped up the rare glimpse of affection between the two during a race weekend.Â
Charles' Revenge
A race in Monaco meant that the majority of drivers were able to spend the week beforehand at home. Padding across the living room barefoot, Yn made her way towards the kitchen. Wrapping her arms around Charlesâ waist, she pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. He turned in her arms, beaming down at her in his oversized hoodie. After her racing suit, this look was his favourite.Â
âThank you for helping me with this, handsome.â
âHelp you? It was my idea, mon coeur. Especially because you would not let me run them off the track.âÂ
âBecause that isâŚâ she prompted.
âDangerous,â he finished with a pout.Â
The doorbell alerted them to the arrival of their first dinner guest, and she smirked to herself before flitting over to the door. Max stood there nervously, a bouquet of flowers in hand. She stepped aside to let him in, and thanked him when he handed the large flower bunch to her.Â
âTo apologise for blinding you, and to thank you for dinner.âÂ
âThatâs very sweet of you, Max,â she inhaled the sweet fragrance of the flowers, almost feeling bad for deceiving him. He probably deserved this the least but her boyfriend needed a way to release his anger. âIâm going to put them in some water. Charles is in the main room with some sport thingy on the television. Gin and tonic?âÂ
âJust one.â He nodded, placing his discarded shoes on the rack before sloping off in search of the brunette driver.Â
Hands clasped, Charles and Yn placed dishes of pasta in front of Lando, Daniel, Lewis and Max, smiling when they thanked them. Yn was well-known for her cooking throughout the paddock, often cooking sweet treats in the week and bringing them in for the Grid to share. Having a birthday on a racing weekend was a much coveted holiday because it meant a homemade cake from the Red Bull racer.
Watching as each of them took a big mouthful, she watched them all grimace in disgust when they swallowed. Taking a sip of wine before speaking, she informed them of the true reason behind their meal. âI lied to you. I didnât cook dinner for you this evening.â
The four of them turned to face the devious Ferrari driver looking innocently at them, horror plastered across their faces. âCharles did.â
Friday - PracticeÂ
âFour F1 drivers are reportedly suffering from food poisoning. Perhaps a racing dinner gone wrong? Theyâre still set to race on Sunday, just two days from now, but images of them have emerged from todayâs free practice, and the four look particularly under the weather.â
Seated opposite her Team Principal, Yn fiddled with her fingers as Christian berated her. Shame crept up the back of her neck and for the fifth time that day, she wished Charles was with her. Hands perched on his hips, Christian stared down at her, waiting for an explanation.Â
âI didnât think theyâd be ill for this long?â She defended weakly. âI just thought theyâd suffer through a gross meal and that would be the end of it. I bought pizza afterwards!â
âYou let them eat Charlesâ food! What did you think would happen? The boy canât cook.âÂ
âOopsâŚ?â
Christian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. âYou couldâve at least left Max out of it.â
âHe blinded me!â
âAnd Iâd do it again!â Max groaned, clutching his stomach. Sweat beaded his forehead despite the cool compress resting atop it.
âThe alternative was Charles pushing you off the track,â she shot back.
âHeâd have to catch me first,â argued Max.Â
The two drivers broke out into good-natured bickering, voices raising as they got more heated. Sighing yet again, the Red Bull principal sank into his chair and muttered to himself, âIâm working with children.â
ââââ ŕźťđĽ¸ŕźş ââââ
A/N: I'm not sure what this is (laugh) I apologise but writing fics isn't my strong suit. I should probably stick to smau's lol
On that note, requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)
#formula 1#f1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc headcanon#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris imagine#daniel ricciardo imagine#lewis hamilton imagine#max verstappen imagine#platonic grid x reader
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BAD ROMANCE.á
đđđđđđđ: gojo satoru/reader
đđ: 9.4k
đđđđđđđ: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !
đđđđđđđđ: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)
Checking the time again, you sigh, itâs bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now itâs practically been cemented.
Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, itâd be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.
Instead, you message Shoko, asking if sheâs free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting⌠again.
You think youâve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you donât notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.
âIâm hurt you know.â
The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, youâre confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like heâs feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.
You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, âWhat are you doing here?â
He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, âMy best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me⌠she messages Shoko? That stings.â
Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, âWhat are you doing here, Gojo?â
âWhat else would I be here for?â He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, âIâm here to be your date!â
Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, âHow did you even know I was stood up?â
âI was with Shoko when you messaged her,â he shrugs easily.
You squint at him, âWhy are you here and not her?â
âBecause it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.â
So stubborn about the weirdest things, youâve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. Itâs silly, but for some reason⌠you donât really want for Gojo to see you like this.
Sulking, you huff, âItâs not a big deal, I just didnât wanna waste the reservation.â
âDonât lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldnât even be bothered to show up?â He frowns like heâll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, âItâs a big deal.â
âYouâre more upset about it then I am,â you play at indifference and while you donât really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.
âThatâs just âcause youâre always settling for less than what you deserve,â he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.
Defending yourself with a grumble, âThatâs not true.â
âWhatever you say, sweetheart,â he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.
Crossing your arms, you snark at him, âDonât patronise me, Gojo.â
âI wouldnât dream of it,â he still has that smile plastered on his face.
You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.
Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, âAnyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.â
Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, âYou are⌠for other things.â
Catching onto your meaning, he asks, âSo, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?â
ââŚCorrect.â
âWhy not?â
âItâs not really something I thought would matter to you this much.â The truth is, youâve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though⌠that or you just brush it off.
Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, itâs not like he tells you about his.
His mouth downturns at your remark, âAnything that involves you matters to me.â
âItâs not like you tell me about your dating life,â you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.
âI would, if I had one,â he leans back into his chair more, âIâm not currently dating though.â
Sheepishly, you say, âOhâŚwellâŚI am.â
âI know that now,â his eyes focus on you, âJust how many dates have you gone on recently?â
âRecently?â he nods at you, âUhm⌠a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but⌠frequently enough that getting stood up isnât the worst thing to happen to me lately.â You laugh slightly at a memory, âYou know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like heââ
You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isnât experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. âWhy is this bugging you?â
âItâs not,â his tone is certain but the expression heâs wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.
Challenging his logic, you ask, âDo you want me to tell you about my dating life?â
He thinks on it for a second, âNo.â
Tilting your head at him, âSee? Thatâs what I thoughtââ
ââBut I want you to call me when things go badly,â his gaze even on you, unwavering.
âYouâre annoying,â you huff out a breath.
His face brightens up again, âAnd yet Iâm still your best friend.â
You can only roll your eyes at him because heâs right, heâs completely annoying and also completely your best friend.
â
After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you werenât relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, youâd tell him about it.
However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. Youâve actually found someone you wouldnât mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. Youâve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, heâs taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.
Itâs your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see heâs just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. Itâs that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.
For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, âWait no, please donât go, this is just a misunderstanding!â
You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.
Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, âSo now youâre cheating on me and trying to keep her here?â
He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, âNo! Babe, Iâm not cheating on you!â
Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, âListen, Iâm going to be so honest, I think youâre a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. Iâd just really like to leave now.â
Heâs wearing an annoyed look on his face, âHow do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.â
She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, âNow youâre offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?â
Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, âIâm just gonna⌠slide right past you.â Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, âUhm⌠Just in case he tries lying to you⌠we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.â Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, âBye!â You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.
The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojoâs contact, you need a ride home.
He picks up pretty quickly, âHello?â
You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, ââŚI need a ride home.â
âWell, good evening to you too,â he replies, voice full of mirth, âYou know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, Iâve been told â by you actually â that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, soââ
ââSatoru.â
The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, âWhere are you?â
Youâre tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, âSome apartment, Iâll text you the addressâŚâ
âYou okay?â He checks.
You canât help the pause before your reply, ââŚYeah.â
His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, âYou gonna tell me what happened?â
Itâs a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, youâll tell him about it, âLater⌠I just wanna go home now.â
âAlright, Iâll be there soon.â He hangs up before you get to thank him.
You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While youâre waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesnât, she deserves better than him.
When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, youâre expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.
Turning your head to the side, âWhat?â
âJust making sure youâre okay.â His hands reach out and for a second you think heâs going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.
You mumble out at him, dismissive, âIâm fine.â
He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesnât believe you even a little bit but heâs letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.
Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but heâs followed you into your living room. You donât know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because youâre incapable of finding a decent guy to date.
Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, âGojo, will you just be my boyfriend?â
He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, âWhat?â
Sighing, you cryptically answer, âI donât think Iâm built for the dating scene.â
When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once heâs sat, âWhat happened, sweetheart?â
Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, âBeen seeing a guy for a couple weeks nowââ
ââThe same one?â Gojo cuts you off.
Humming out a, âYes andââ
Again, he cuts you off, ââThatâs pretty seriousâŚâ
I know butÂââ
ââWhy didnât you tell me about him?â His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.
Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, âYou said you didnât wanna hear about my dating life.â You point an accusatory finger at him.
âYeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is differentââ Heâs not really sure if heâs making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.
ââDoes it matter?â Youâre looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.
Heâs steadfast in his opinion, âOf course it matters.â
âI donât think it should, especially sinceââ
ââIf youâre seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in himÂââ Heâs annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that heâs lost sight of his original purpose of being here.
ââCan you stop cutting me off!â You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much heâs been interrupting you, âIâve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,â you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, âThatâs why I asked you to come get me.â
âOhâŚâ He feels bad now.
ââŚYeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didnât exactly feel safe.â You sigh, slumping, âAnd now I just feel really bad about dating.â
Completely serious when he suggests, âMaybe you should stop.â
âStop dating?â
Consistent in his confirmation, âYes.â
Meeting his gaze again, âHow else am I going to meet someone?â
He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, âWhy do you need to date someone now anyways?â
You donât really see his point, what does he mean âwhy?â⌠why else do people date? âMaybe Iâm lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe Iâm like every other normal person?â
âYou have me though,â youâd think he was joking if he werenât so straight faced.
Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, âGojo⌠thatâs not the same thing, weâre friends, we donât look at each other that way.â
âSays you.â
âWhat do you mean by that?â
âIâd date you in a heartbeat,â he folds his arms over his chest, âIn fact, youâre the only person I want to date.â
You canât tell if heâs teasing or not, âGet real, thatâs not what I meant.â
His head tilts at you, âWhat did you mean then?â
âIâm talking about romantic and sexual attraction,â youâre avoiding his gaze again.
So casual in how he bluntly asks, âYou think Iâm not sexually attracted to you?â
His question catches you off guard slightly, âItâs not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,â you shake your head, âif that were the case, Iâd just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someoneâŚâ
He nods his head like he suddenly understands, âAh, so you think Iâm not romantically interested in you?â
âYou shouldnât be.â
âWhy not?â
Disbelieving when you look at him, âAre you serious right now? Weâre friends.â
âYeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.â
How do you even respond to a confession like that? Heâs not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how heâs just told you that heâs interested in you. âI donât thinkââ
ââAre you going to tell me youâre not interested in me? Even a little bit?â
âWeâre friends.â
âIs that the only thing stopping you?â He doesnât wait for your answer, âBecause if it is, then itâs a little arbitrary, no?â
The beginning of a frown settles on your features, âWhat are you trying to get me to say? That Iâd date you if we werenât friends, that Iâd fuck you?â
He smiles at you, âSure, but if you would if we werenât friends, Iâm saying you should even though we are.â
Frown deepening, âYouâre being serious?â
âIâm being so serious,â he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.
Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.
He sighs at your reaction, âYou know, Iâve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe Iâm an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.â
You had no idea he liked you, youâve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that youâre finding out now heâs liked you the whole time, âWhat are you asking of me?â
âIâm asking you to give me a chance,â his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, âIâm asking you to seriously try dating me.â
Youâre trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way heâs looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.
Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, âGojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.â
âLike what?â He plays dumb.
âLike you really wanna kiss me,â you murmur back.
âCanât help itâŚâ he leans in a little bit more, âMaybe if you let me kiss you, Iâll stop.â
âSatoru,â you warn.
âHmm?â His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.
Heâs making you dizzy, âI canât make a choice when youâre this close.â
Humming at you, âWhy not?â
âCanât think,â you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.
Heâs smiling smugly, âThen donât.â
You donât know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and theyâre soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.
One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. Heâs leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.
Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.
If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position heâs put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy heâs getting but when heâs finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he canât really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.
It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasnât going to be able to do it. If he had his way, heâd have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didnât think heâd get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused heâs gotten over your lips on his.
Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, âHave you made a decision yet?â
Youâre having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, âIâŚuhmmâŚâ
When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.
âCome on, donât keep a guy waiting,â heâs taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.
âOkay,â you nod.
âHmm? Okay what?â
Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, âOkay, I will seriously try dating you.â
âCanât date anyone else while you do,â he conditions.
âOkay,â agreeing easily.
He adds, âHave to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.â
Again, agreeing, âOkay.â
âHave to keep kissing me right now,â smile growing on his features.
âOkââ frowning at him when you realise, ââHey.â
âYou donât want to?â His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, âBecause you look like you want to.â
Pouting at him, âDonât be cruel.â
âI wouldnât dream of it, sweetheart,â his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.
Leveling him with an even stare, you state, âI donât sleep with guys on the first date.â
âGot a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.â
You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, âYou donât kiss like thatâs all you want.â
His smile is crooked as he asks, âAnd how do I kiss?â
Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, âDizzyingly.â
He breathes out an amused laugh before heâs slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you canât think straight even if you really want to, which is why itâs probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you donât want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.
Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, âWait,â taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.
âWhatâs wrong?â He asks when you donât continue.
âYou need to stop kissing me.â
âOh?â He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, âAnd whyâs that?â
His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, âIf you keep kissing me like thatâŚâ your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, ââŚIâll wanna have sex with you.â
He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, âThat worked up by a few kisses, huh?â Taunting you like he isnât the hardest heâs ever been, cock twitching at your confession.
âShuddup.â
His words are dripping with delight, âAt least we know youâre sexually attracted to me.â
He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, âYouâre a mean man, Gojo.â
âAt this pointâŚâ He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, ââŚI think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.â
âWe are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,â youâre trying to stay steadfast but heâs making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.
âSo⌠youâre saying I should take you to the bedroom?â When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, âIâm just kidding, we wonât do anything you donât want to, but I will point out â for the last time â that you look an awful lot like you want to.â
âI didnât say I didnât want to⌠I just feel like if youâre gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,â you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.
Abruptly, he states, âIt wouldnât be our first date though.â
âWhat?â
Heâs a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when youâre pouting your lips at him like you are, âI count a couple weeks ago as our first date.â
âWhen I was stood up?â You scoff, âThat does not count.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause it wasnât even planned.â
âNo but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,â smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.
Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, âWe were still just friends then though.â
âSo, we arenât âjust friendsâ now?â Heâs being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but heâs not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.
You return earnestly, âI donât wanna count it.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause it wasnât meant to be you on that dateâŚâ before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, ââŚdonât get me wrong, I had fun and Iâm glad you showed up, but it wasnât planned to be you⌠when we go on our first date⌠I want it to be meant for you.â Youâre unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.
Heâs looking at you so intently and youâre worried youâve upset him somehow, âI know you said I need to stop kissing you, but thatâs what I want more than anything right now.â He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.
His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.
Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how youâre becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.
Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually â and somewhat purposefully â your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.
You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, âSweetheart, if you really donât want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.â
Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, âBut I like having you on top of me.â
A shiver runs down his spine, âYouâre evil,â he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.
Heâs been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.
âSatoruââ when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.
He hisses an apology through his teeth, âSorry â fuck â sorry, whatâs up?â
Deciding to be forward, âTake me to my room?â
Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, âYouâre sure?â
âYeah, Iâm sure,â you give a small nod, feeling shy.
You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesnât feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.
When he determines that youâre sure of yourself, heâs off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that youâre off the couch, youâre thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.
âSomeoneâs eager,â you laugh at how ridiculous heâs being.
The chuckle he returns is humourless, âYou have no fucking idea.â
Youâre dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.
âGojo, breathe.â
âDonât need to breathe,â he smiles large at you, âDo need your pants off though.â
Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.
âYou know⌠Iâm hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,â he teases.
You grumble at him, âIf youâre going to be like this the whole time then Iâm changing my mind.
âDonât lie to yourself, sweetheart. Youâre not fooling anyone, especially not with how youâre rubbing your thighs together.â His large hands grip your thighs, âFeeling horny?â
You donât really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like heâd do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. Youâre already so pitifully slick from kissing him.
Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, âMhm, really horny.â
The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you donât know what you were expecting if not that.
âGojo, you donât have toââ
âI want to,â his eyes flick to yours, âPlus, if you wanna take me, youâre gonna need the prep,â smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.
Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, âYouâre full of it.â
Heâs not worried about your scepticism, âYouâll find out for yourself in a bit.â He shrugs easily, âNow, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?â
He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, âAh! Do what you wantâŚâ
Oh, he looks so excited by your words, âYou mean it?â
Youâll be honest and admit you werenât really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you canât tell if youâre that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.
âMhm,â youâre nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, youâre not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something â anything.
âThese are some really cute pantiesâŚkinda bothers me,â heâs still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?
Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, âWhat?â
Eyes flicking towards yours, âIâm a bit of a jealous guy.â
âI know this,â he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning heâs liked you for so long.
He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, âOf course you do,â he fists at the material of your panties, âBut the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these⌠has me feeling really annoyed.â
The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, heâs just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.
âHey! those were my good pair!â They were one of the nicer pairs you own.
âWho cares about that?â His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, âYour cunt is much cuter.â
God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, âDonât be crude.â
âHmm? âŚbut I think you like it thoughâŚâ his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, âGot so much wetter when I said it.â
Heâs quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently heâs shamelessly staring at your cunt.
Continuing to speculate, he says, âThat or you like being praisedâŚâ he smirks evilly, âYou like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good youâre being for me?â
Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, âHahâ NoâŚâ
âSuch a bad liar,â eyeing your face, âWearing a really great expression right now though.â
Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, âNot lying.â
He ignores you, âCould be both though,â heâs continuing to ponder on what you react most to, âWhich is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?â
You donât plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what heâs doing. You see his smile before heâs leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.
Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.
Heâs relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.
Huffing slightly as he says, âAsked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.â
âI donât know,â your head lolls forward, eyes wet.
Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, âShall we find out then?â
You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.
âYou donât gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,â his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. âBeen doing so good for me, sound so pretty,â he coos at you.
Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.
He hums in thought, âSo fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.â
You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.
âI think Iâve just realised something,â he glances up at you, âGot such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.â
You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, âGojo!â You warn.
He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesnât have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. âTrying to run away from me,â he tsks, âBut youâre fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.â His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.
ââToru!â You call for him again, you feel like youâre on fire, beyond embarrassed.
He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, âI think you like both,â is his conclusion.
Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.
Dazed when he asks, âEver been this wet, pretty?â
You shake your head, âNo⌠I didnât know IâŚâ
Fingers moving yours to your entrance, âPoor thing, didnât know how slutty her pussy was.â Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, âFucking great though, in love with it,â and again, your brows raising in realisation, âYeah⌠you know now, donât you?â
âYouâre making me feel embarrassed,â you pout, head dizzy.
âNo, Iâm making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,â he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.
You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. âWhat do you want from me?â
âWant you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,â his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.
ââŚLike it,â you mumble out.
Humming in thought, âHmm, not good enough, donât think I believe you.â
Repeating, louder, âI like it.â
Tilting his head at you, âYou like what?â
âI like when you talk to me,â you say with more force, brows furrowed.
He pretends to be unsure of your answer, âAre you sure?â
âYes!â You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, âI like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?â You huff.
âHoly fuck, yes,â if he werenât already on his knees, he wouldâve fallen to them again.
You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, heâd be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard itâs aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he werenât so completely distracted by how you taste heâd throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.
âGojo! Ohââ His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.
Your elbows officially give out and youâre flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises heâs pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.
Gasping out at him, âMâmore. Gojo â hah â more, please.â
Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. Heâs worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.
A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.
He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, heâs losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.
âNeed you to cum,â he sounds wrecked even to himself, âBefore I do in my own pants â ffffuck ââ Canât help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, âMustâve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?â He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.
Pressing out a simple, âSâso mean,â in response.
âYou fucking like it,â eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, âLove it even,â he reminds.
A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.
âThatâs it, sweetie,â he encourages, âDoing so good, just let go for me.â
Youâre cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojoâs words. If it didnât feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, youâd feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.
Itâs not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he canât possibly remember why. Not when youâre squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.
âSuch a good direction follower,â he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.
His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.
âLook at that,â his voice dripping with glee, âI was right⌠got such a creamy pussy,â he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.
He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, âCan I take this off, pretty?â
Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, âMhm.â
âYou okay to keep going?â He checks, leaning in closer to you.
His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, âYeah.â
âYou sureââ
Cutting him off, ââYes.â
Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.
Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like heâs memorising how you feel under his palms.
âYouâre so soft,â he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.
Confused as your voice calls for him gently, ââToru?â
âFuck,â he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, âAlright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.â
Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you donât even talk back to him.
Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, âWhat?â
âNothing,â he shakes his head at you, âYouâre just really cute.â
He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.
You canât help but stare, he wasnât full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.
âItâs rude to stare,â he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.
Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, ââM sorry.â
âHah,â he huffs in amusement, âSo polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?â
âYeah,â you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.
It works, âFuckâ alright,â his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, ââBout to give you an even better one,â guiding his dick to your core.
Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.
You whine at him over it, âPlease.â
Smile large as he coos, âDonât worry, pretty. Iâll take care of you.â
Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didnât give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.
âI can take it,â gaze determined as you try to assure him, âYou can keep going.â
âOh, sweetie,â his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, âI appreciate that,â he smiles, âI do⌠but youâre gonna want to pace yourself.â
You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably â definitely â sound advice.
âHah, donât pout,â his thumb moves to your clit, âYouâll take it, know you will,â rubbing circles into it, âCause Iâm gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.â
Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.
Heâs not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, youâre suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.
Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, âIâm gonna â hah ââ
Gojo realises when you clench down on him what youâre trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.
âWhy? Why?â youâre almost incoherent as you ask him.
âIâm so fucking sorry, sweetheart,â he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, âWouldâve cum if I hadnât pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.â
You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. âIâll make it up to you, donât worry.â
Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way heâs getting the friction heâs desperate for.
âSuch a greedy cunt,â he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, âSo quick to cum for me, sucking me in.â
âGojoââ you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.
His voice cracks at how you refer to him, ââNo, no, nono, what happened to âToru?â Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.
ââToru, youâreââ cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, ââso deep.â
âDonât I fucking know it,â he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.
Heâs pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.
âIf I didnât know any better, Iâd think you liked me or something,â he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.
Without thinking, you admit, âI have â mmph â Iâve liked you mmâmultiple times ahâ at different points in â hah â our lives.â
His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, âSeriously?â When you nod, he grinds down into you, âFuckâ had me so stressed, liked you all this time and youâre telling me I couldâve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?â
Youâre feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way heâs grinding into you.
âWhen,â his words are hurried, when you look at him like heâs just said something in a different language, he asks again, âWhen have you liked me?â
âI donât remember that, too many â hnn â different times,â you shake your head, you donât even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you werenât split open on his big dick.
He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, âEnough that you â mmph â canât remember specifics,â he groans, âFeels like a sick joke, been pining after you our â hah â whole lives.â
His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, youâre barely able to catch up to him before heâs talking again, âThe most recent timeâ can you â hah â remember the most recent time you liked me?â
Heâs desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesnât really matter all that much right now.
âNot â hah â not that long ago,â youâre almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but heâs still only thrusting into you shallowly.
âWhen, sweetie, tell me when, please,â his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.
Struggling slightly as you press out, âBâ before I started â hah â going on all those dates,â youâre trying really hard to think, âBeginning of the â hng â year?â
Smiling at you, big, happy, âNot that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.â
Heâs a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadnât just told you about his feelings ages ago.
âGonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,â heâs rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, âRemind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.â
âIâd like it if you moved, âToru, please,â you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.
âSince you asked so nicely,â he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.
Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.
Your whimpered moans have Gojoâs skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, âGot such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuckââ
Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. âGojoââ
ââNo, I donât know who that is,â he ignores your cry of his name.
Trying again, ââToru, wantâ I wantââ
Youâre not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.
Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe heâs just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.
âFeelsâ feels good, Iââ
âAgain? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,â he sounds so excited, âWant it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.â Itâs almost like heâs begging you for it.
Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, youâre cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. Itâs coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.
âFuuck, thatâs it, such a good girl,â your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, âOh? You liked that, shouldâve called you a good girl sooner.â
Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesnât stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.
Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, ââToru, want it, please.â
âWhatever you say, sweetheart,â his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.
Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.
Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.
He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, âToo heavy.â
He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing youâre clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.
Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, âYou look cute dripping with my cum,â he singsongs.
âLewd,â you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.
âYeahâŚâ he gets into bed by you, âBut Iâm certain you like that.â
You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, âNot sleeping with you again until at least the third date.â
âI betâŚâ he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, ââŚYouâll sleep with me after each of them.â
You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.
đ/đ: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!
[â ď¸] â đđđđđđđ: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works Š all works are the intellectual property of unheavenlyvision
#visionwrites#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#satoru x reader#satoru x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru x you smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader
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Top of the Class (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)
Synopsis: Agatha finally lets you sit in on one of her classes.
Words: 7.1k
Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, power imbalance, age gap (all 18+), praise kink, possessiveness, swearing, jealousy, mentions of cock warming, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of spanking, edging, fingering (R receiving), choking, strap-on (R receiving), blowjob (R giving), degradation, hair pulling, begging, marking
Agathaâs hand was resting on the top of your head, nails scraping over your scalp as she petted you. Your back was pressed against the sofa, leaning against her leg, cheek resting on her thigh. Youâd given up on the book in your lap, eyes closed, luxuriating in the feeling of her. You hummed, shuffling closer.
âAre you falling asleep, pet?â
Her voice was a soft hum, almost amused. You mumbled something, curling one arm around her calf, pressing more insistently against her. Her fingers gave one sharp tug on your hair, pain blooming over your scalp.
âHey,â you protested.
But it wasnât enough for you to draw away. Nothing could convince you to stop touching her when she was allowing it. Her warmth was seeping into your body. She wound a strand of your hair around her finger, tugging on it again, this time gentler.
âAre you going to sleep if I leave you here during my class?â she asked.
You buried your face against the muscle of her thigh, refusing to answer. She was not one to promote wasted time. Not unless it was to do something she wanted. Like laze around in bed all day, nothing but caresses and kisses and shared laughter.
âI canât have you wasting the entire afternoon,â she warned.
âYouâre the one who kept me up all night,â you grumbled.
âI didnât hear you complaining at the time,â she said.
Of course you hadnât. Sheâd had your arms tied above your head as sheâd kept you on the brink long enough to drive you crazy. You were hardly going to tell her to stop when she was making you feel so good.
âCâmon, just one short nap,â you wheedled, âyou wonât even be here to see.â
âExactly. Donât you think you should try and get as much work done when Iâm not here toâŚâ Her fingers tugged on your hair until you looked up at her, âplay with you?â
âHow am I meant to when Iâm so tired?â you asked.
âIf you want to spend the night in your dorm room, be my guest,â she said.
âNo,â you said, so fast there was no way to play it off as anything but desperate.
âThen what do you suggest we do?â she asked, âsince I clearly canât trust you on your own.â
âYou can trust me. Iâm a good girl,â you whined.
âI know you try to be,â she said, fingertips brushing over the apple of your cheeks, âyou try so hard. But sometimes you canât help yourself.â
You whimpered, pressing closer. She lent forward until her breath ghosted over your skin. Her hair, usually wild and free, was pinned up and you could see the long column of her neck. It called to you, begging for your lips to attach to it, your tongue to taste her skin.
âUp here, pet,â she said.
Her finger tilted your chin up until your eyes met hers. The way she was looking at you had your stomach clenching, butterflies springing to life, fire sparking in your veins. It was full of such heat, scorching you, turning your head fuzzy.
âIâm not sure youâll do as youâre told if left to your own devices,â she said.
âWhat do you suggest?â you asked, letting yourself gaze at her with undisguised desire.
âI think youâd better join me in class today,â she said.
âI should what?â
You eyes blinked up at her, stomach swooping. Youâd never been given the opportunity to watch her teach. When taking one of her classes had felt like a pipe dream, youâd imagined the legend of a woman at a lectern. Now, knowing her, you knew it would ruin you to watch her.
âYou need my watchful gaze on you, pet,â she said, âyou might even learn something.â
âI promise you I wonât,â you said.
She chuckled, husky, from deep in her chest, making you tremble at her feet. Her knuckles brushed over your cheekbone surprisingly soft.
âAnd whyâs that, pet?â she asked.
âBecause all Iâll be able to think about is your mouth, and your fingers, and what you do to me,â you replied.
âAnd what do I do to you?â she asked.
âRuin me.â
She seemed pleased with your breathless response, grinning down at you like you were her good little pet, like she was going to swallow you whole, like all your dreams were going to come true. You glowed for her, so pleased, shuffling closer. Maybe you werenât going to be able to nap, but she was offering you the chance to show her how well you followed orders. You could be so good for her.
An hour later, you were following her across the campus, towards the small lecture theatre that attempted to contain her genius. The usual circle of space was given to the two of you, leaving you in your own bubble with her. It was how you preferred it, not letting the rest of the world in when you were with her. She was the world to you.
Inside the lecture theatre, a group of students sat scattered over the chairs. You watched, a rippling effect of straightening spines, eyes alighting on Agatha. Your Agatha. Of course she got such a response from her students. She was formidable.
Your eyes scanned over the crowd, watching the way they watched her. A few glances passed over your, a mixture of confusion and jealousy. Clearly your reputation had seeped into their collective consciousness, your special place in the ecosystem of Professor Harknessâs teaching career. Too many of them were watching her with an undisguised look of wanting. You recognised it, the same expression on your face when you saw her. The same expression she seemed to find amusing on your features.
âGo take a seat,â she murmured in your ear, her hand on the small of your back nudging you towards the stairs.
You nodded, mute, her breath on your skin raising goosebumps. Even in front of an audience, you couldnât stop your reaction to her. She was something otherworldly, magical in how she made you feel. Like a magnet, you felt yourself drawn towards her no matter the distance.
You sunk into a chair at the back of the hall, where you could watch her and not be watched by any of her students. You wanted to gaze at her, drink in this moment, watch her in her element. You knew it would wreck you but you craved it, your destruction at her hand. Her eyes alighted on you, a fleeting glance, but you saw it from the tilt of her lips. She knew what she was about to do to you.
With your chin resting in your hand, you could gaze down at her. She waited another few minutes, the air turning electric with anticipation. She fiddled with the laptop, a powerpoint showing behind her. It was familiar, the picture one youâd poured over with her before, heads bent together over a book, close enough that whispers were all you needed. Her shoulder had been pressed against yours, long fingers tracing over the plate, spinning a story for you. When your gaze had inevitably crawled up her arm to her face, sheâd already been looking back, blue eyes molten, taking in every single one of your micro expressions. She hadnât let you kiss her until she was finished telling you the story, but youâd ached to since the first word fell from her lips.
The door crashed open, starting you. A windswept boy hurried in, calling out an apology to Agatha. Her lip curled and those blue eyes flashed dangerously. You watched each sure step as she sauntered over to him. Your stomach clenched and you thought you knew what was coming.
âWhat time do you call this?â she asked, voice quiet but ringing in the studentsâ silence. All eyes were watching.
âSorry Professor Harkness,â the boy said, one hand pushing through his hair, ruffling it in what he must have thought was an attractive way, âtraffic was crazy.â
âWhat did I tell you at the start of the semester?â she asked, head cocking to the side.
You could see him searching for the answer, the slump of his shoulders when he came up empty.
âI told you,â she said, bending down, both hands on the arms of the chair, pinning him under her gaze, âdonât bother showing up if youâre not serious about this class.â
âI am serious. Iâm so serious. It was just-â he said.
âTraffic. So you said,â she said straightening up.
You watched him let out a relieved breath, relaxing back into the seat. Agatha turned on her heels and you held your breath.
âGet out,â she said.
The boy stiffened.
âBut I am serious,â he argued, âyou know Iâm serious about this class. I need this to graduate.â
âYou should have thought about that before you were late,â she said, not even looking at him to add insult to injury, âeveryone was informed that I donât accept late arrivals. Either show up early or not at all.â
He stood, face going a splotchy red.
âBitch,â he spat.
She was slow to turn and you could tell from the set of her lips that she was angry. Hidden, secret, not obvious unless youâd spent a lot of time with her, you werenât sure any of the students realised. The boy certainly didnât. He had no idea how deep in shit he was.
âYouâre going to have to try harder than that if youâre hoping to hurt my feelings,â she replied.
âItâs one minute. Whatâs it matter?â he demanded.
âThe second you start allowing standards slip is the second you give up. I have no interest in teaching burn outs. Get out of my class,â she said.
He stared at her for a moment before he snatched up his bag. His stomping footsteps echoed as he left again, under the watchful gaze of the rest of the students. The door was loud as it slammed shut behind him.
Your thighs clenched together under your tiny table, breathless, mouth dry, heart thundering. Blue eyes found you and the warmth in your cheeks was for no one but her.
âDoes anyone else have something they wish to add before I begin class?â she asked, voice carrying through the room.
Quiet negatives came from every corner of the room. You couldnât look away as a smile spread over her face.
âGood,â she said, âthen let me tell you a story.â
You settled back in your seat, the familiar story washing over you. You didnât need to concentrate, knowing the story, having heard it in her husky voice, late at night, whispered into your skin over and over again, teasing you until you answered her questions correctly while her fingers drew you taut. The same story that played along with the picture of witches dancing in the moonlight hand in hand with demons.
No, you paid attention to her body, rather than her words. The way her hands moved through the air, illustrating something only she could see. Her voice rose and fell, lingering on certain words, her tongue caressing each syllable. She strode up and down, turning dramatically, weaving together a performance that had you throbbing with need.
You melted in your seat, watching her, lips parted, wondering if you could convince her to take you on her desk when you returned to her office. You were being so good. She had to reward you. She had to.
She paused, eyes dragging up to you. You watched as her tongue dragged along her lower lip, her pause deafening. Your own teeth sunk into your lower lip, imagining your own tongue following the same path. Her head titled. And then she was off again, continuing her lecture.
You inhaled sharply, looking away for a moment. You could pick out the students that were hanging on her every word, those that lent forward in their chairs, wanting to be closer to the sparkling woman. She might have had a reputation around campus, but those who managed to stick it out clearly found her as intriguing as you did.
You hated the thought of them thinking about her the way you did. Fantasising. Imagining. Working hard to please her the same way you did in the hopes they would be singled out. That she would look at them as if they were special. As if they would be the one to break through the hard exterior.
You were the only one who got to see beyond the performance to the woman underneath. And you were certainly the only one that got to benefit from those long fingers and flashing eyes and cruel smirk. No one else was hers.
No one else had a claim over her. Just you. Only you. Always you.
Your eyes slipped back to her, finding her leaning towards another one of her students. They were gazing up at her, dazzled, and your jaw clenched. But then her head tipped up and she caught your eye and you knew she was doing it on purpose. She wanted you watching. She wanted you paying attention. She wanted you jealous.
So you sat back in your chair, fingers combing through your hair, playing with the ends. The soft flannel of your shirt fell down towards your elbows, her perfume a permanent scent embedded in the material. Sheâd never asked for it back after youâd stolen it, the purple material a comfort when she wasnât around.
You tipped your chin down, watching her intently. Her lips pulled up into a half smirk, leaning away from the student. She turned away from you, hands resting in her pockets, continuing on with the story. Letting your eyes sweep over her body, all you wanted to do was slip between her legs, taste her skin, hear her moan. You loved the noises she made when you were knuckles deep inside her.
The next time those eyes found you, you slipped your fingertip into your mouth, cheeks hollowing, maintaining eye contact with her. There was no stutter, no break in her words, no stumble, but you saw the way her fingers clenched.
If she was playing with you, youâd play right back.
You rested your fingers around your own throat, waiting for her to look back. You tipped your head back, lips parting, hooded eyes daring her to do something. Her shoulders tightened and her words came out a touch sharper than you were sure sheâd intended them to be.
Then she gifted a smile to one of the girls in the front row. Not her usual smile. The one that she usually bestowed on you when you were particularly brilliant. You didnât like the way your heart thudded. It reminded you that she would always hold so much power over you. With a single word she could break you.
Although, you might be able to break her too, if you ever lost your mind and wanted to hurt her.
When her gaze sought you out again, you knew you were looking at her like you wanted her to throw you down on the floor and have her way with you in front of all of her students. That you were imagining the pleasure she could give you. That you were thinking of the ways she could make you scream.
Her own eyes darkened, tongue wetting her lips again. Your lips parted on a soft sigh, fingertips trailing over your own skin in a mirror of the path hers had taken over your body that morning. You traced her name into your skin, slow enough for her to realise what you were doing. The expression on her face was nothing but raw need.
You thought youâd won the game sheâd started. Your checkmate move, the one that always had her melting. Making it clear you were hers and hers alone, and that you were proud of the fact. That you luxuriated it. That you loved being claimed by her.
You spent the rest of the class watching her, gazing with what you were sure was a lovesick look, tracing her name over and over again into your skin as you considered all the ways you wanted to show her your appreciation for letting you join her class. And hopefully earn you another invitation.
You were beginning to grow drunk on her, addicted to her, salivating over her as she strode around the room, hands waving, fingers curling in a move you found very familiar. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, holding in the moan that wanted to be heard.
She wrapped up the lecture, those eyes finding you again, lips curling up when she saw the state you were in. You shifted in your seat, squirming when her expression darkened. Lingering, you stayed in your seat as the students filtered out, a few staying behind to ask questions. She waved them away, her gaze caught on you.
You lent back, watching her approach from under hooded eyes. Hands in her pockets, she exuded powered, the kind that was heady and addictive and delicious. She walked through the row in front of you, leaning over the chair to draw closer to you.
âDid you learn something, pet?â she asked.
âUh huh.â You nodded, leaning towards her.
âAnd what did you learn?â she asked.
âThat Iâm going to have to keep you chained up in your house,â you said, âyouâre entirely too sexy when you teach and Iâm not the only one who notices.â
âWhat on earth could you mean?â she asked, widening her eyes, affecting innocence.
âI think you know the exact effect you have on them,â you said, leaning in until you were only a hairâs breadth from her.
âWhat effect do I have on you?â she asked.
âHow about you come here and find out,â you suggested.
Her hand grasped your chin, nails digging into your cheeks. Your mouth fell open, a soundless beg for her to come closer. When her eyes dipped down to your lips, you strained against her hold to get closer.
âYou think youâre in control here? You think your little display will get you what you want? You think you have any say in how I teach my students?â Her lips brushed against yours, featherlight and ghost-like, âyou have sorely miscalculated, pet.â
The flash of heat that went through you was embarrassing. You shouldnât be so ready for her with so little work on her part. Leaning into her touch, you whimpered, just loud enough for her to hear you.
âYou spent the entire class testing my patience,â she growled.
âI was being good for you,â you said.
âYou were being a dirty whore. A spectacle. If anyone had seen you they would have known what a desperate little slut you are. Is that what you want? Do you want all my students to know how needy you are for my cock?â Her fingernails only dug in harder.
âWant them to know Iâm the only one you touch,â you whimpered.
Her smirk wasnât kind, full of malice while you could only beg for her.
âYouâve been nothing but a distraction, pet. You were meant to be good for me while I taught but youâre nothing but a naughty pet that needs to be punished.â The way her voice lowered into something husky, a rasp of a voice, had your thighs clenching again, âcome on.â
She stood, releasing your face and you felt like youâd been kicked in the stomach. You hurried after her, rushing down the steps until her arm caught you around the waist, dragging you closer. Her kiss was searing, far too short by half, and you whimpered when she drew away.
Following her back across campus, you didnât even notice the way people jumped out of her way. What you did notice was a few of the students still milling about, their eyes finding Agatha without pause, turning to her like she was the sun. Your stomach churned again.
You were the only one to lay claim over her. She was yours, not theirs, no matter what they seemed to want. Sheâd made it clear you were hers in every sense of the word.
Her hand curled around your wrist as she entered the history building, tight enough for you to feel secure with her. You liked when it became hard to know where you ended and she began. Having her wrapped so tightly around you was one of those things you loved but never told her. Sheâd tell you to stop being so sentimental.
Pushing her door open, she flung you inside, slamming the door behind her. Ignoring your pleading eyes, she took a seat behind her desk. Her legs spread wide, chin resting in her hand, watching you as you stood there, waiting for some kind of instructions. You felt breathless under that gaze, wanting to climb into her lap, to ride her thigh, to do anything you were allowed to ease the need that had been coursing through your veins since sheâd begun her lecture.
âWhat am I going to do with you?â she asked, her eyes sweeping over your body, âeven under careful watch you just canât help yourself.â
âYouâre just too-â
âOh no,â she interrupted, âyouâre not blaming your behaviour on me.â
Her fingers began to tap on the arm of her chair, considering you with an intensity that made you tremble.
âWere you hoping to make a fool of me in front of my students? You thought you had that power over me? That your childish antics would get a response from me?â she asked, displeasure colouring her words.
âYou did react,â you said, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.
Her fingers gently tugged at the buttons of her shirt, opening it, exposing inch after inch of skin. Your mouth grew dry, eyes trained on it. There was no chance this was going the way you wanted and yet you couldnât see the downside as you watched her.
Lace peeked out, inviting you in, tempting you to fall to your knees in front of her. She paused, dragging one finger up her chest, neck arching back before dropping down to look at you again.
âCome here, pet,â she commanded.
You did, unable to stop yourself even if youâd wanted to. Slipping between her and the desk, you reached a hand out to her, wanting to feel her beneath your touch. She slapped your hand away.
âGood girls get to touch,â she said, âand I see no good girls here.â
Quicker than you could catch, she had stood, hand on your body turning you, pressing your hips into the edge of her desk. You gasped. Her breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, hands pinning yours to the surface of the desk.
âBad girls get punished,â she whispered.
Her tongue ran up the length of your neck. You shivered, hips pressing back into her, feeling the bulge in her trousers, the thick length you knew was hidden in there. After all, youâd seen her put it on that morning. She shoved you forward again, the edge painful as it dug in. You whined but she did nothing, keeping you pinned against her desk, unable to touch, to taste, to sink into her.
âHow shall I punish you?â she hummed, lips brushing the vulnerable skin of your neck.
âAgatha,â you whined.
âI could refuse to give in to you, not touch you for a good long while, not let you cum until I feel youâve learnt your lesson,â she said, still whisper soft
âPlease,â you whimpered.
âI could have you warm my cock until the end of the day, and for every single time you distract me as I try to get my work done, I get to think of new punishments for you,â she suggested.
âPlease,â you tried again.
âOr maybe I should have you cum over and over again until you canât take it any more. Give you everything you want since youâre so needy,â she whispered, âand then when you think you canât take any more, I just keep going since you wanted it so badly. Youâll take as much as I say you will and youâll thank me for it. Every. Single. Orgasm.â
You were breathless, caught against her desk, pinned without the chance to move. Her lips kept ghosting over your skin, breath brushing until you shivered. Her teeth tugged on your earlobe, and the warmth was spreading, throbbing between your legs until you werenât sure you could stay upright if she wasnât keeping you there.
âI could spank you. Your skin would look so pretty with my handprints all over it,â she mused.
âI need you,â you whined.
âUnfortunately, pet, this isnât about what you need, or what you want, or how good you think you are. This is about me teaching you a lesson,â she said, âI am your professor, after all.â
The shot of pleasure that went through you at the reminder, that you were one of her students, that this was wrong and most would frown upon it. They just didnât understand. No one could understand the connection you had with your Agatha.
âHow about we start with this and see what happens?â
She grasped both of your hands in one of hers, the other slipping past the waistband of your jeans. She chuckled, low in her throat when she felt how wet you were. You let out a shaky breath both unsure what she wanted from you, but wanting to give it to her.
Her finger was slow as it circled over your clit. Your breath was loud to your own ears. Soft lips attached themselves to your skin, sucking at your pulse point, tongue pressing down to feel your blood thrum. Her hips ground against your ass, pushing you more firmly against her fingers.
âDid you enjoy your little display in class?â she asked, whispered into your skin, âdid you enjoy trying to take control?â
You couldnât move as her fingers were slow on your bundle of nerves. You made a small noise, a whimper or a moan or something that was pathetic with need. Her teeth nipped at your skin, not gentle but not as harsh as sheâd been with you before. It was like butterflies exploding in your stomach all over again.
âSuch a display for me,â she murmured, âI think youâd like my fingers to make a pretty necklace for you.â
âYes,â you hissed.
âDonât think I didnât notice the way you touched yourself. My name was a nice touch, pet. Because you are mine. My little pet to play with.â
You whimpered at her words.
âDo you like that? You like being mine? Mine to do with as I please?â Her lips brushed over her skin, âdo you like being owned by me, pet?â
âUh huh,â was all you managed to say as her fingers continued to play with your clit.
âYou know what I enjoy most about owning you?â she asked, voice a soft murmur.
You let out a desperate noise in answer. You felt her smile against your skin.
âI have complete control over you,â she said.
Her fingers were rough, nothing but harsh strokes, drawing you closer to the precipice. You were trying to rock against them, to chase your high like the needy thing you knew you were. You were panting, pinned to the desk, not even feeling the pain of it anymore, so focused on the way she was making you feel.
Her fingers stilled. Your pained cry only seemed to amuse her, the chuckle a vibration through her chest.
âAgatha,â you pleaded.
âComplete.â Her thumb stroked over your clit again, âcontrol.â
She held you there, fingers still resting against you, but not giving you the friction you needed. She ignored you, every noise you made, every wiggle of your hips, every pleading gasp of her name. It was torture, having her there and not being given what you wanted.
âI do own you, donât I, kitten?â she asked, voice low, a note of something new in her voice.
âYes,â you gasped, âIâm yours.â
She groaned, face buried in your neck. The way she kissed your skin, nipping, sucking, tongue tasting however much she could reach was surprisingly desperate. Even pinned to the desk, hands held in one strong grip, only able to sigh her name, you felt the way she pressed closer to you.
Her fingers sunk into you, so easily, your wetness making it so simple. You threw your head back, her name sweet honey on your tongue as she forced you back to the edge. So close, you could taste it. Fingers curling within you, stroking you, turning your head hazy. There was nothing you could do but clench your fingers and let her do as she wanted with your body.
You trembled, legs shaking, your moans so loud in the quiet office. You felt it in your lower stomach, the melting of fire through your veins, the beginning of muscles fluttering. Her hand stilled, slipping out of you.
âNo,â you groaned.
âThis is a punishment, pet,â she reminded you.
Her hand slipped out of your trousers, hand curling around your throat. Your slickness smeared over your skin and you couldnât even care. You could happily become whatever mess she wanted you to be if she would only touch you again.
With her hold on you, she managed to get you to turn your head. Her lips descended on yours, soft despite the tight grip she had on you. When her tongue slipped between your lips, tasting you until you were melting, whimpering, pressing closer. She chuckled, teeth sinking into your lower lip, pulling on it. You were nothing but your base desires, needing her closer, needing her in every way. She possessed you in every single way it was possible to own another person.
âHave you learnt your lesson?â she mumbled against your lips.
âYes,â you sighed.
âIâm not sure you have,â she said, drawing back.
âAgatha,â you whined.
âI do so love the way you say my name,â she said, eyes sweeping over you.
The fingers around your throat tightened. The noise you made was so pathetic, the auditory embodiment of need. Her eyes hard darkened, smouldering, molten as she looked at you.
âDo you want my cock, kitten?â she asked.
âYes please,â you whimpered.
âSo polite.â She let your hands go and gently stroked your hair, âkeep your hands on the table and I might just let you have it.â
With one hand around your throat, the other dove back into your underwear, stroking through your dripping folds. Thumb grinding against your clit, the way you whined only seemed to drive her on. She was grinding against your ass and you were desperate for her. Your nails dug into the wood of the desk, doing everything in your power to keep them there as she did everything in her power to drive you mad with nothing but her fingers.
You were so sensitive under her touch, each stroke sending shockwaves through you. You trembled, every nerve ending on fire. Her hand only tightened around your throat until your airways cut off. Your fingers clenched, hips trying to rock against her, tears pricking at your eyes. You wanted her so much. You could taste your orgasm, could practically see it. It was right there, right within reaching distance. One more second and it would break over you.
Her hand pulled free again and the tear fell. She kissed it away from your cheek, tongue catching it. Releasing your throat, her body disappeared from behind you. You shivered in the chill, the frustration nothing but a familiar friend when it came to her. Her chair creaked.
âTurn around, pet,â she commanded.
You did, finding her leaning back in her chair, thighs spread, purple strap bobbing in the air. You swallowed, eyes trained on it.
âOn your knees, pet.â
You fell immediately, the sharp pain not even registering. Crawling forward, you looked up at her, waiting for more orders. Her hands gently ran through your hair, blue eyes dazzling as she held your gaze.
âGo on,â she said, âsuck my cock like the dirty whore I know you are.â
Your tongue ran up the length of it before you sucked the tip into your mouth. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, but you knew how to follow instructions, and if you were good enough youâd be rewarded. Her fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you further down.
You did your best to relax your throat, taking her as deeply as you could. Her hips pushed up, lips quirking up as you gagged around her cock. Slowly pulling up again, you suckled on the tip before sliding down again. Her fingers tightened in your hair, the sharp pull making you moan around the silicone.
âLook at you. So good as sucking cock,â she murmured, voice husky, âyou belong on your knees, pet.â
Her praise had you pressing your thighs together again.
âSo pretty and all mine,â she sighed.
You redoubled your efforts, wanting more of her praise. You wanted to be her good girl. You wanted her to know you would do anything for you. You wanted to give her everything she deserved.
âCould spend all day like this with you. Iâve imagining it, you know. Sitting at this desk, you under there on your knees, your mouth put to work. Just imagine, sitting here, your mouth on me, as Iâm doing office hours with my students. What do you think theyâd do if they knew? If they could see you being so good for me? If they knew your rightful place was on your knees for me?â Her fingers sharply pulled on your hair, âbut then I donât want to share this sight with anyone.â
You groaned around her cock. Something in her softened.
âNo, this sight is all for me,â she said, and you whimpered at the reverence in her voice.
Your hands grasped her bare thighs, head bobbing, guided by her hands in your hair. The way she praised you was so delicious, emptying your head of anything but her. There was only this, and the way you felt on fire with her. The ache of your knees was so distant, focused as you were on her.
âSuch a pretty pet,â she murmured, âcâmere.â
Her hands in your hair pulled you off her with an indecent noise. Climbing to your feet, you looked down at her, wanting to touch and to taste and to melt into her. Her hands were steady as they unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down over your hips. You kicked them off. Her fingers ran along the waistband of your panties, your muscles jumping under her touch.
âI was going to keep you wanting as punishment,â she mused, âbut youâve been so good and I just canât resist you.â
She lent forward, lips pressing to your lower stomach. Looking up your body, her eyes sparkled.
âYouâre irresistible to me, kitten,â she whispered into your skin.
Her fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear, dragging them slowly down your legs. You gasped when her tongue dove between your folds, tasting you, her soft hum going through you like electricity.
âYouâre dripping for me,â she said.
Her tongue brushed over your clit, hips jumping towards her. She hummed again, a soft suckle against your bundle of nerves. Your hands landed on her shoulders, gripping tightly to keep your knees from collapsing beneath you.
âPlease,â you begged, âAgatha.â
âCome here, pet.â
She positioned you on top of her, knees either side of her lap. When you sunk down onto her cock, you let out a low noise, relieved. Her hands grasped your hips tightly, keeping you there, holding you still. You tried to squirm, pushing your face into the crook of her neck, hiding your embarrassment from her.
âNo, no, no, pet. Iâm going to watch you unravel,â she said, lips brushing against your temple.
You stayed hidden, hips shifting, until she pinned you down. Held there, full up with her cock, you were a live wire, desperate and needy and losing your mind.
âIf you want me to fuck you, you know what you have to do,â Agatha murmured, grip on you tightening.
Your shame wasnât comparable to your need. You emerged from your hiding place, looking down at her, cheeks heating from the expression of raw desire on her face.
âThatâs my good pet,â she said.
Her hands guided you up, just an inch, before pulling you down again. It wasnât enough, but you couldnât do anything but clutch at her shoulders. She was in complete control, you were nothing but hers to do with as she pleased. She watched you with greedy eyes, drinking in everything.
Your hips rocked against her, taking her strap as deep as it would go. You clenched around it, not able to help yourself. Sheâd brought you towards the edge too many times. All you could think about was giving in and doing anything you could to get your orgasm.
Bouncing on her cock, your fingers dug into her shoulder. The way she looked at you was pure liquid heat, eyes blown wide as you kept saying her name over and over again. Your head tipped back, exposing your throat to her. Her lips attached, as you knew they would, painting such pretty bruises on your skin.
Her fingers found your clit again, stroking you as you rode her as hard as sheâd let you. You were a gasping mess atop her, chasing your orgasm with wild abandon. She wasnât soft with you, taking everything she wanted, all you were willing to give, rough and demanding. She growled into your skin, teeth sinking in, fingers pressing bruises into your flesh. You were a wild animal, crying her name, clawing at her, wound so tight.
With one stroke, she broke the tension.
Your orgasm crashed into you. Your muscles stiffened, her name a strangled noise, holding on. Her fingers kept stroking you, drawing it out, making it last as long as she could as you milked her cock for all it was worth. The aftershocks kept you twitching as you fell forward, her arms catching you, gasping out your thanks to her.
She kissed your forehead, hair sticking to sweat coated skin. You pushed closer, wanting to feel her heart beat in time with yours. Her hands were running over your skin, along the line of your spine under your shirt, lips brushing over every inch of you she could reach.
You reached for her face, blindly pulling her into a kiss, soft and sated and relaxed. The way she kissed you back was nothing short of a claiming, kissing you deeper and deeper. With her still buried in you, all you could do was mewl, fingers pushing past the pins in her hair, clutching at her.
âDid you enjoy yourself, kitten?â she asked when she drew away.
âYes,â you breathed, a whisper in the air shared between the two of you, faces still so close together.
âHave I told you how beautiful you are when youâre cumming on my cock?â she murmured, âhow did I get so lucky to capture you?â
It was the most sentimental thing sheâd ever said to you. You felt yourself melting. Your lips brushed hers, so gentle it made your heart ache.
âI should come to your classes more often,â you said.
Her chuckle sent your heart racing again.
âClearly you havenât learnt your lesson,â she said, âI knew I shouldnât have indulged you.â
âWhy did you?â you asked, nuzzling closer.
Her hands were still caressing your skin and you felt her breath ghost over your temple. Her kiss was soft, nose brushing over your skin, tongue darting out to taste you for a just a moment.
âBecause I canât say no to you, kitten. Not really,â she murmured and you wondered if you were actually meant to hear it.
She let you stay curled around her for longer than youâd expected, on her lap, arms curled around your body. Your eyelids fluttered shut. Every time she moved you felt her strap shift within you. The way the heat of pleasure settled under your skin was pleasant, not desperate yet, but comforting and soft and warm. Familiar. You felt safe and cared for, right there in her lap and in her arms.
âYou should probably get dressed,â she said after some time had passed.
âDonât wanna,â you replied, lips brushing her throat from your spot against her body.
âIâm all for you staying right here but I didnât lock the door and if someone comes in they might have questions,â she said, âquestions Iâm happy to answer about bad girls needing discipline but you might not want everyone to know you canât follow simple orders.â
âI can follow orders,â you protested.
âThen get dressed, petâ she said.
You whimpered when she slipped out of you, feeling empty without her cock inside you. She lent forward, snatching up your underwear before you could. She shoved them in the pocket of her trousers as she tugged them back into place, looking for all the world like she hadnât just been inside you.
You dragged your jeans up your legs. She carefully buttoned them up for you, fingers brushing your skin. The look in her eye when she looked up at you was so full of something it took your breath away. You wished you could name it but all you knew was it made you feel like youâd been dunked in oil and set alight. It only got stronger as you buttoned up her shirt, hiding the lace from view again. Your fingers lingered in the dip between her her collarbones, such a vulnerable spot, so soft under your fingertips.
âGo on, pet. I know you have work to be getting on with,â she said, gently pushing your hand away.
âBut Iâm so tired,â you whined.
âDonât be a brat,â she scolded but there was a twinkle in her eye, âIâm not sure you could handle any more punishment today.â
You held out just long enough to let her know you were thinking about it. You dropped onto the sofa, doing exactly what sheâd told you. More work. Always more work on your thesis.
But you couldnât wait for the next time she brought you to class with her.
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Aemond x brothel reader đ
So what if instead of Aemond visiting the older woman in yesterdayâs episode - he goes to the brothel and immediately regrets it and is about to leave until he sees reader and is mesmerized by her beauty. They have their little moment and she gives him comfort. Definitely feel free to add more or change anything! This is just a thought that Iâd like to see created. Thank you!
Request: Aemond and a brothel girl (maybe a dancer idk) like the scene in the episode. Except they are more intimate and not weird age gap like the madam. It gave me the ick⌠He truly feels for her.
Warnings: mention of (past) character death, mommy issues,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
â
The mysterious customer under a cloak all piqued your curiosity. You never had the chance of properly seeing him, always immediately escorted to a private bed. Some girls said he was disfigured, and that it was the reason he covered himself with a cloak. Some said it was Aegon Targaryen, but you knew the newly crowned King favored Flea Bottomâs whores.Â
As you danced, your eyes would try to see through the veils he hid behind. To get a glimpse of him. But you never saw anything other than his bare feet. All you knew was that he was with Madam Sylvi and that he requested hot milk.
One late evening, you saw him leaving the veils. His cloak was on, but he saw you. He saw you dancing and moving your naked body to the rhythm of the music, entertaining the customers.Â
The next time he came by, he asked for you.Â
Madam Sylvi was not pleased, but he was the paying customer.Â
You reminded him of his mother â physically â, but more caring and nurturing. He found your voice soothing and loved to rub himself against the fullness of your breasts, making your nipples harden to the stimulation, until he came to rest his cheek on top of it, humming in satisfaction. His mother let him do this as a child, when she was still comforting him, and he missed it.Â
Every night, he would curl against you, or in your lap, and stay here for hours as you gently caressed his pale skin. Unlike the other customers, Aemond was not there for sexual satisfaction. He just wanted comfort.
ââDaemon sent them to kill me,ââ he said, his naked body shielded by the veils circling the large bed. ââIt was my head they wanted, not my innocent little nephewâs.ââ
Your heart was heavy as the prince mentioned the murder of Jaehaerys â a child. The barbarous act had everyone in tears.Â
You rubbed his arm gently, the aroma of calming lavender wrapping around you. ââBut you were with me.ââ
ââI feel sorry for my brother and sweet sister. She is traumatized.ââ Guilt filled his stomach as he remembered the suffering and painful grief in Helaenaâs eyes. ââI should be grateful they did not find me, but a part of me wishes they had. Unlike my little nephew, I would have been able to defend myself.ââ
ââWe cannot change the past, my prince.ââÂ
ââI know,ââ Aemond whispered, his cold, princely facade completely down in your company. He sighed deeply as your gentle caresses soothed his weary soul. His body relaxed as he buried his face into your covered chest, seeking solace in your warmth and tenderness. ââThereâs a lot I would change about the past if I could. IâŚI do regret that business with Luke. I lost my temper that day, and I am sorry for it.ââ
You stroked his hair gently, the soft, silvery locks running through your fingers. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away as he rested against you.
Aemond's eye closed at your touch, and a small sigh escaped his lips. ââThey used to tease me, you know? Because I was different. One time, in the dragonpit, theyâŚthey said they found me a dragon. It was a pig. And my brother was part of the prank.ââ
â'That was cruel of them,'â you said softly, leaning to kiss his temple. He leaned into your touch as you wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace. ââThey were cruel to you, my prince. You didn't deserve their taunts and mockery.'âÂ
You felt his hand reaching up and palming your breasts through your clothing. Getting the hint of what he wanted, you untied the front of your dress and freed your breasts. Immediately, Aemondâs mouth started to press kisses over them before. His hot tongue swiped over your nipple. You let him do what he desired, knowing this was his way of finding comfort. The warmth of his hand and the wetness of his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, but you focused on his needs.
As Aemond continued his sweet assault on your breasts, you noticed his cock was getting hard against his thigh, but didnât mention it. Madam Sylvi never touched him there...or kissed him. Only you â when he asked for it.Â
The music outside the curtains changed, and he shifted, letting go of your breasts to curl up with his head on your lap instead. You continued to rub his shoulder down to his back, then along his thigh and leg.Â
ââWhen I claimed Vhagar, I felt powerful.ââÂ
His pride and confidence had swelled to an almost unmanageable extent when he returned to Driftmark. He was excited to tell Aegon, and his mother about Vhagar. But his cousins and nephews found him first. They got into a fight over the dragonâŚand Lucerys Velaryon took out his eyes.Â
As if you read his thoughts, your finger brushed the scar going through his eyebrow. You couldnât imagine the pain he went through.Â
ââWas it why you went after Luke that day? Because you wanted him to be afraid of you and your superior dragon?ââÂ
Aemond grew still at the mention of Lucerys, the memory of that fateful day on Stormâs End, the catalyst of the brewing war, still fresh in his mind.Â
After a moment's hesitation, he nodded slowly. ââYes... In a way, I suppose so.ââÂ
You hummed, brushing your fingertips along his cheekbone softly.Â
Aemond wished he could take you to the Keep. To his chambers. It would be nice to not have to hide under a cloak at night and risk getting seen by anyone who shouldnât. He wished you would be there, in his bed, when he would return from small council meetings, training or even just supper, to take care of him and hold him.
But that was impossible. His mother would never allow it. Â
â
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#aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen imagine#hotd#house of the dragon imagine
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OMG I am living for the Finnick content!!! Could I request something with angst to fluff, with the prompt âlook at me, look at me, youâre okay, weâre okayâ? Maybe set after catching fire when they both wake up in district 13? Thank you!!
watercolor eyes
finnick odair x reader
synopsis: you didnât think you would ever see those watercolor eyes againâŚ
a/n: i used hearing loss as readerâs injury, there is no real explanation, so make one up :)
âââââââââââââââ
it was a stunning color, almost indescribable. he was saying something, his hands moved frantically, you could see them in your peripheral. yet you remained in a trance with his eyes, watching them as they frantically searched yours. then, you realized his lips were moving, and you couldnât hear him.
âdo you think she can hear us?â he blinked, refusing to get emotional at just the thought. from how close you had been, it definitely couldâve resulted in hearing loss. the rescuing of who they could get in the arena didnât go very well, and he hated to admit that he almost lost you. how he lost peeta and johanna, something that already weighed heavy on him.
suddenly, a scream erupted from you. finnick rose from your side, hands trying to calm you down. you were getting redder as you screamed, exhausting yourself.
ây/n!â he shouted, hoping youâd hear him and stop, but didnât realize that you were screaming because you couldnât hear your own voice.
you were panicking. from the looks of finnick, he could hear you, but you couldnât hear your loud screaming. you felt the vibrations of your own voice, hand at your throat. but nothing was heard. your breath hitched as the stark realization dawned on you. you couldnât even hear ringing in your ears.
helplessly, you gripped finnickâs arm as he searched your eyes. a doctor practically sprinted towards you. you panicked, gripping onto finnick as you fought off the doctor, a syringe in his hand. you screamed again, now out of reflex. finnick was trying to calm you down but it was hard for someone who had gone temporarily deaf. or at least he hoped it would be temporary. there was no knowing the damage.
ây/n.â he spoke as if you could hear him, shouting wouldnât change things. you could feel his fingers on your cheek, gently wiping them as tears escaped your eyes.
you wanted to look at him, focus on his eyes, imagine the engulfing waters of the ocean, free to take you and finnick to places you could only dream of.
but the needle stabbing you wouldnât let you float your mind away.
you wouldnât be able to hear the ocean, let alone see it.
you grilled finnickâs arm, eyes fighting to stay connected to his, but they fluttered shut, getting one last glimpse of those watercolor eyes.
finnick watched as your eyes fluttered shut. he had been comforting you in a way he knew wasnât helping. âyouâre okayâŚâ he whispered, âyouâll be okay.â he brushed a hair from your voice as your expression calmed. the doctors had decided to sedate you upon your outburst. âiâm sorry.â he whispered more, laying you down back into the bed, words repeating like a broken record.
it had been a week.
your ears were still sensitive, and you had been ordered to stay away from any and all loud noises, which meant you often stayed behind for when president coin called her meetings.
katniss had been making progress, from what you had gathered in whispers from finnick.
âonly whispers.â he had whispered the first words you were able to hear. âdoctorâs orders.â he smiled brightly. you exhaled, nodding as you matched his whisper. even the sound of your own voice was excruciating in volume. you had tried to force yourself to get used to loud volumes, but it was impossible.
it was more pain than it was worth, that even sometimes the whispers were too sharp.
so you and finnick often settled for a comforting silence. he would hold you in his arms, brushing your hair from your face as you stared deep into his eyes.
he grounded you, from the moment you met him, he had been nothing but kind. he loved you, killed for you, saved you.
âi love you.â you whispered so quietly you wondered if he could even hear you.
he looked down at you, having glanced away for a mere moment. his smile extended up to his eyes, âi love you more.â he whispered, still careful to be quiet.
#finnick odair oneshots#thg finnick odair#finnick odair x female!reader#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick odair angst#finnick odair smut#finnick odair x reader#finnick imagine#thg finnick#hunger games finnick#thg x reader#thg angst#thg imagine#finnick x y/n#finnick odair
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what am i to you?
Qimir x Reader
Summary: You decide to leave Qimir, thinking your feelings are one-sided till an encounter with the Jedi Order proves otherwise.
WC: 1.3k
Warnings: she/her pronouns, mentions of blood
A/N: I hope you like it Anon <3! Requests are still open for Qimir!
âWhat am I to you, Qimir?â You asked him as you placed your hood over your head, your small bag placed at the side of you, âWhore? Helper? Companion? What other names do you use to describe me to your Acolytes?âÂ
âThis is new for you, my dear,â he chuckled, amused as if you were a child trying to use big words. You were never the one to bite back, you would normally happily accept your role as his right hand. Not now, the years of trying to convince yourself he loved you had your patience growing thin.
âYou donât get to call me that, you seethed. âIâm leaving, Qimir. I canât be here, knowing you donât feel the same. Iâll never be more than whatever this is.âÂ
The Sith stayed silent after that, he merely watched as you accepted your defeat and picked up your things to disappear in the night.Â
Tears fell as you walked through the forest, trying to expel memories of late night tangled in sheets and days of trips to the beaches of his favorite planet. He showed you all those wonderful things and touched you in a way you could only imagine, only for it to mean nothing. You wasted years on him.Â
Something suddenly felt off, the hair on the back of your neck began to rise and the forest grew silent. Someone was there with you in the forest. A small smile tugged at your lips, he came back for you! You turned around and smiled at the figure that stood in the trees. About to tease him, the figure reached for his belt, a lightsaber igniting. Yellow?Â
Before you had the chance to run, the Force knocked you to the ground roughtly. The figure grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. The man frowned âYouâre the Force wielder?â he questioned.Â
âN-no!â You cried, punching at his arm.Â
âThe Order keeps sending you to die,â a third voice entered the space, and you could recognize that distorted tone from anywhere.Â
The Jedi swiftly turned the two of you to face the Sith standing a few feet away. Dressed in his helmet and cloak, Qimir watched as the Jedi released your hair and placed you in a chokehold with his free arm. The other turned off the saber and placed it on your temple, the heat of the metal making you cry out.Â
This Jedi wasnât like the rest of the ones the Order sent after Qimir, there was something in his eye that screamed rogue. âYou either surrender,â the Jedi panted, tightening his grip on your throat and his saber pressing harder to your temple, âor I kill your⌠Acolyte? Is that what she is to you?âÂ
âThose are words of a Sith, Jedi, are you sure youâre not on the wrong side?â The Stranger spoke calmly, his voice distorted by his mask. He couldnât see the fear in your eyes or how the Jedi was starting to bleed from you digging your nails into his forearms.Â
You wish you could read him, be able to get inside his head, and know what heâs thinking one last time. Maybe he had some compassion for you because love was out of the question. He was here to kill you before you could get away. The Jedi pressed harder, the metal cutting into your skin. You screamed in pain and he laughed? Amused at what was going on.Â
This was it. You heard his finger slide to the trigger.Â
Qimir.Â
I love you.Â
I love you.Â
If thereâs an afterlife I wish for something kinder.Â
You heard the ignition of a lightsaber, and in an instant the grip on your throat released. Then there was a thud, the crunch of leaves and snapping of twigs followed after. You fell to the floor and curled into a ball, heaving for air. Were you dead? Was this the afterlife you were just praying to the Maker for? âGet up,â the distorted voice commanded. You crawled a couple of inches and sat up, pushing your hair out of your face and looking behind you.Â
Lying on the ground was the Jedi, a red lightsaber right through the center of his head. Your eyes widened and the last of the tears flowed from your eyes. You watched as Qimir called his saber back to his hand, a perfect circle left in its wake. He pulled you up by the shoulder and hurried you back towards the hideout.Â
You walked hurriedly in silence, looking back at the deep forest every now and then to make sure you werenât followed by anyone else. The Jedi Order had been desperate to capture him since the murder of that one Jedi on Udea. Qimir kept a tight grip on your wrist, you didnât dare to pull away since he was the only thing keeping you alive.Â
That silence remained when you got to the small cabin. He whipped off the mask and threw it violently into the corner. Your body stilled, wondering if you were in for a worse fate than with the Jedi. Qimir killed violently, heâd kill anyone. You were nothing special. Not to him.
He turned to you with fire raging in his eyes, they only softened slightly when he saw the blood trickling from your head, a few drops of crimson landing on your chest. He extended his hand, a small wooden box rushing towards him. He caught it effortlessly and sat on the makeshift bed. âSit.âÂ
You did as you were told and took a seat by his side. He went to work bandaging your wound, but you noticed something. Why didnât he just heal it using the Force? Why was he taking the time for something so futile for a Sith? You also noticed his fingers trembling as he picked up the small scissors among the supplies. He made it halfway to your head before he shakily dropped them into your lap, the fabric of your cloak delicately breaking the fall. Your hands connected as you both reached out to collect them.Â
Qimir let go of the scissors and held your hand. âAre you ok?â he asked, all bite vacant in his tone.
âI think so,â you nodded.Â
Silence filled the air, and you could feel his stare burn into your skin. He just went back to work, dabbing at the blood and cleaning your skin of dirt and blood. You nearly begged him to say something, anything to release you from the choking silence.Â
After the job was done, Qimir stood and collected his supplies, putting everything away silently. Your gaze followed him, you had always wondered how he could act so calm in these situations, you almost admired it. Then he stood in the center of the room, his shoulders hunched and his gaze lingered on the ground, analyzing the cracks in the wood.Â
âI didnât know they weââ
ââI love you.âÂ
I love you. Those words sounded so foreign to him, he had spoken them once, before the Order and before they took him away. It had been so longâtoo long. He was embarrassed that it took that long to say to you. Qimir had learned his lesson.
You stood up, the wood creaking below you as you closed some distance between you. âWhy tell me now? When Iâm about to die at the hands of the Jedi.âÂ
âI should have told you a long time ago,â he jumped in, his hands flexing, âI heard your thoughts, your pleas. Iâm sorry.â
You lifted your chin, âWhat am I to you, Qimir?â You asked him the same question as earlier, this time you had no fight left.Â
The Sith raised his hand and connected it to the side of your face, âI think they would have called it a soulmate?â He pulled you in closer, âI should have never let you feel differently.âÂ
âNever do that again,â you said bitterly, jabbing your finger into his chest.Â
He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting his eyes flutter closed, âNever.â
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Don't Move
*Loosely inspired by the new Netflix movie Donât Move but I havenât actually watched it and only saw clips and read the synopsis.
I never should have parked so far from the grocery store. Iâd stopped to grab a few items for dinner on my way home from work and parked in the last row, wanting to give myself an opportunity to walk a little extra to the store and stretch my legs after sitting at a computer desk all day, especially since today was an uncharacteristically sunny fall day. When I finish shopping and come back out to my car, I vaguely take note of another car parked next to me.
Weird, considering half the lot was empty but who am I to judge, Iâm not the parking police. I roll my cart to my car, unload my shopping bags, and return the cart before rounding my car to get in and leave. Thatâs when I realize that the car next to me parked absurdly close to mine.
I silently judge the distance and decide that maybe I can squeeze myself into my driver side door without dinging his door or mine so I step in the space between the two vehicles. As soon as I pull open my door, I can tell that my plan wonât work. I huff out a little laugh and decide to just crawl in through the passenger side when I hear the car door slam from behind.
âSorry!â An embarrassed sounding male voice sounds. âI totally misjudged the distance and parked a little too close.â
I turn to see a tall man stride around what I assume is his car that he was sitting in, coming towards me. I smile back at him, âNo worries, it happens to the best of us. I can just crawl in through the other side.â
His eyes crinkle in a kind smile and he raises one hand to run through his hair bashfully. I realize that heâs really attractive, the kind of boy-next-door attractive that makes you feel at ease. Heâs closed the distance between us and stands near the back bumper of both our cars, his frame filling the space and effectively trapping me in.
âNo, donât, I can move my car, just give me a sec,â he says, giving a wry chuckle. I glance down at his other hand and see him holding an umbrella. I raise an eyebrow, gesturing towards it with my chin, âExpecting rain?â
He looks down as if heâs surprised to see the umbrella in his hand, âOh! This! Well, you can never be too prepared, right?â He shrugs lightly and takes another step into my space.
âPlus, itâs really useful for times like this,â he says before clicking a button on the handle that makes the tip light up with electricity. His umbrella is a stun gun in disguise. Before I can react, he jabs it into my side and I let out a strangled yelp as sharp pain floods my body and I crumple.
He catches me and the last thing I see before my vision goes black is his handsome face twisted in a dark, menacing smile.
â
The rhythmic jostling of a car wakes me up and I found myself laid out across the backseat of a car with my arms tied behind my back and my legs tied together at my ankles. I let out a soft whine, my body aching as I slowly clear my head.
My eyes dart around the car and I see him driving. He tilts the rearview mirror down so we can see each other and he flashes me a charming smile.
âGood morning. Sleep well?â His voice is teasing, as if we were lovers, waking up in bed together and not a deranged kidnapper and his prey.
âWhat the fuck? Let me go!â I thrash against my restraints but heâs also strapped me into the seatbelts and made it impossible for me to get free.
He smiles, âDonât worry, weâre almost there.â
I feel the car turn and from my limited view out the windows, I see him turn us from a main road onto a smaller path that seems to lead into the forest. Fear starts to overtake my every emotion.
âWhere are you taking me? Are you going to kill me?â I say, my voice cracking.
He laughs in response but doesnât deign to give me a verbal response. Before I can muster up the courage to ask more, the car comes to a stop and he steps out before opening the door by my feet.
With a strong grip, he hauls me out of the car and I stumble out, legs unsteady and uncoordinated from being bound together. âPlease, please, let me go!â I beg him, my heart in my throat.
He grins at me, âLetâs play a game. Iâll give you an opportunity to run, and if you out-run me, Iâll let you go.â I gasp, staring at him, waiting for the catch. He reaches behind me and with a swift motion, unties my arms. He leans down and does the same for my ankles and I stare at him in shock.
âYou better run, little bird.â His voice is teasing as he takes a step back from me. I donât hesitate. I spin and take off.
My breath is harsh and my heartbeat wild as I sprint through the woods, ignoring the branches that scratch at my face and arms. I hear his laugh following me and then his voice shouting after me, âRun, little bird, run as fast as you want but you wonât get far!â
I donât stop to think, just mindlessly crashing through the woods as fast as I can, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. Iâm not sure how far Iâm able to get when suddenly, my leg seems to give out from underneath me and I take a tumble.
I gasp, trying my best not to scream as I trip and find myself landing hard on the ground. Pain shoots through my body and I grit my teeth, not wanting to make any more noise in case he can hear me. Adrenaline is still pumping through me as I scramble to push myself back up from the floor. I manage to stand and take a step before my knees buckle again and I drop to my hands and knees.
What the fuck is going on? Why isnât my body cooperating? Iâm frantic, horror filling my blood as I realize something is very wrong. My legs wonât move and I donât know why. I try to crawl forward but suddenly, my arms give out and I end up sprawled across my front, branches digging into my body painfully.
I canât escape like this. My brain is begging my body to just move and keep running but nothing is happening. I use an excruciating amount of effort to roll myself from my front to my back so at least I can have a better vantage point but thatâs all that Iâm able to accomplish before my body completes shuts down. Iâm left splayed out on my back, limbs frozen, mind screaming in panic when I hear footsteps approaching.
And then, I hear his voice. âLittle bird, did the drugs kick in?â
My heart drops at his words. He drugged me. That was why I couldnât move. Tears filled my eyes and I blinked rapidly, the only movement I could still produce.
I see him walk into my view through my tears and I hear him chuckle. âLooks like my little bird canât fly anymore.â He walks up next to me and looks down at me and waves a syringe mockingly.
âA paralytic. Fast-acting and long-lasting. Youâre going to be like this for at least several hours,â he says, a maniacal gleam lighting up his eyes. I try to speak and realize that I canât even do that.
He crouches down next to me and brushes my hair off my face, then trailing a hand down my cheek, collecting a tear. âWe are going to have so much fun together, little bird.â
He hefts me up into his arms and carries me through the forest, retracing the path Iâd ran down. I realize with a sinking heart that I did not make it far at all and in a few hundred yards, we end up back at the car. My mind is still screaming at my body to move but nothing obeys.
He carries me into a cabin, the intended destination of our car ride, and I stare listlessly at the space around us. We end up in a bedroom with a large bed and I feel another wave of fear pass over me. Heâs going to rape me.
He lays me down gently on the bed like Iâm some kind of precious cargo. Then he disappears from view and I hear the sound of running water from what I assume is the connected bathroom. He comes back holding a first aid kit and a wet towel. He starts with the scratches on my face, wiping them down before putting some kind of cream over them, his fingers gentle.
He makes a tsk sound at me, âLook at you, little bird. Covered in scratches, Iâm going to need to take good care of you, hm?â He smiles down at me and my stomach curdles. My eyes are wide as I stare back at him, silent.
Then he pulls out a pair of scissors and I want to flinch but I canât. He starts to cut my shirt off my body and I feel dizzy with terror as my clothes start to fall away in strips. I beg my body to move but just like before, thereâs nothing in response.
He moves down to my pants, opting to unbutton them and gently pull them off my legs, taking care to maneuver my body around. Tears are streaming down my face, wetting my temples and my hair as I stare up at the ceiling blankly.
Iâm naked now, stripped bare, splayed out on the bed. âFuck, little bird, youâre beautiful,â he says, his voice low. He runs a hand down my cheek, ghosting over my throat and down between the valley of my breasts, over my stomach, and he comes to rest in between my legs. I close my eyes, trying to escape from this horror.
He nudges my legs further apart, revealing my pussy to his hungry gaze and I feel his finger dance across me. The movement is gentle, teasing, and if I could move, it would have made me tense and jerk away. But instead, I lay still, my body unable to do anything except let him take what he wants.
He trails a gentle finger against my clit and the touch makes electricity dance down my spine. He pulls his hand away for a second and I feel his finger press against my mouth. My eyes fly open to meet his. He smiles at me before gently pushing his finger into my mouth. My lips part with no resistance and when he pulls his hand away, a string of saliva follows.
His spit-wet finger goes back to between my legs and he rubs my clit again. My eyes clench shut as an unwanted wave of pleasure washes over me and if I could moan right now, I know that I would be biting it back. His wet finger moves up and down over me and he knows exactly how hard to rub and where to touch. I feel my breath stutter in my chest and I want nothing more than to push him away, to make him stop.
âLittle bird, I can feel you getting wet,â he purrs at me and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to block it out. âIâm going to take such good care of this pretty pussy,â he says as he gently slides a finger inside of me. Iâm so wet now that thereâs no resistance at all, and my relaxed body only helps him breech me.
He adds a second finger and suddenly, I feel the hot touch of a mouth on my clit. Itâs unbearable, the forced pleasure permeating every single sense and nerve, the paralytic erasing every possible outlet I could have to soothe the sharp, overwhelming blanket of unwanted bliss. I canât clench my legs, canât roll my hips, arch my back, or even make a single sound. Itâs torture.
His mouth and fingers work at me relentlessly and I can feel an orgasm building up. Except my body canât respond to it, my pussy canât tense and contract, thereâs nothing to soften the rush of pleasure that slams into me. Tears are streaming down my face as my orgasm takes my breath away, the unimaginable pleasure shooting through me with no physical outlet. It makes my entire being go hazy, my breathing quickening as much as it could with my body in this state.
He doesnât stop when I cum. His fingers continue to slide into me, curling upwards to hit my g-spot with painstaking accuracy. He lifts his mouth from my clit and flashes me a devious smile, âI told you Iâd take good care of you. And fuck, you taste so fucking good, little bird. I could do this all day.â
His lips seal around my clit again, sucking, flicking, licking. Iâm trapped in my body, trapped in this unbearable pleasure, as he wrings another orgasm out of my helpless body. Finally, he pulls back, sliding his fingers out of my dripping pussy. He sits back on his heels and looks down at me, triumph and satisfaction making him look like a king surveying his conquest.
He slides off the bed but stays in my field of vision as he begins to strip, every article of clothing removed revealing his attractive form. When his pants and underwear come off, I see his long, hard cock jut out, tip already dripping with pre-cum. I want to beg him to stop, tell him that I canât take anymore but I canât. I can only watch as he stalks toward me, crawling onto the bed and settling between my legs again.
Heâs on his knees, towering over me as he strokes his cock languidly. âIâm going to make you fall apart on my cock, and make you take every single inch in that tight fucking cunt of yours. You are going to be mine, little bird.â
He moves my legs from where theyâve been spread wide, moving them to press both against my chest, leaving my pussy exposed and open for him. I feel the head of his cock push against my pussy and I close my eyes, trying to will myself away from this.
He laughs, âYou canât hide from me, you know that.â His body moves as he slides his cock into me. Heâs gentle, slowly feeding an inch at a time, giving my lax body time to adjust to his massive size. I want to thrash and writhe, the feeling of his cock filling me so completely takes my breath away and it feels so fucking good I want to crawl out of my skin.
He lets out a low groan, cursing under his breath as he finally sinks all the way into me. âFuck, you feel so fucking good, your cunt was made for me.â
Then, he fucks me. His hips slam into me without remorse, every thrust making my body jolt, his grip on my legs and hips the only things keeping me in place. My eyes roll back into my head as the pleasure overwhelms me.
Every thrust slams into my cervix, the pain-tinged pleasure makes me want to scream, to do anything to relieve this mind-melting, all-encompassing feeling. His movements are relentless, each one punctuated by the sound of his pleasure-filled groans. The sound of my pussyâs wetness fills the room, along with our skin slapping together, creating a cacophony of lewd noise.
âFuck, little bird, Iâm going to cum in your tight cunt. Iâm going to mark you as mine from the inside,â he growls, his grip on me tight as his hips speed up. Waves of pleasure crash through me and I want to claw myself out of my physical form. I canât cope with the pleasure shooting through every nerve with nowhere to go.
His hips stutter against mine and I hear his voice rasp out a drawn-out moan as he cums inside of me. He lets my legs down gently, taking care not to strain me as he leans over me. âFuck, next time I do this, I want you writhing underneath me in pleasure,â he says, voice breathless. I can only stare back at him in response.
He pulls away from me, the feeling of his cock leaving my pussy sending tingles down my spine. He looks at me, his cum dripping out of my cunt and he smiles. âDonât worry, weâre not done yet.â His words push a stab of anguish into me. What more can he do to me? I canât handle any more.
He climbs off the bed and steps out of my line of sight. When he comes back, heâs holding a horribly mean-looking vibrator. My eyes widen and I blink frantically, my mind screaming at him to please stop. He canât hear me but he wouldnât listen to me even if I could verbalize my pleading.
He smiles and spreads my legs apart again, leaving me exposed and I hear the wretched sound of the vibrator fill the room. Thereâs no gentle touch, no softness that comes to soothe me, just the horrible, nerve-shattering press of the vibrator against my clit.
My mind breaks. The pleasure explodes out of me but every single muscle of my body stays relaxed, amplifying the unimaginable feeling. Thereâs nothing to dampen it, no clenching of my legs to make it any better, no cries, moans, whimpers, and screams leaving my throat to distract me. Just the vibrator destroying me.
My orgasm rips through me and he doesnât relent. Moments later, another orgasm makes my every nerve combust and he only grounds the vibrator harder against me. The next one makes my vision go white and my brain shuts down any higher function and leaves me a shell only capable of experiencing the torturous pleasure. The last orgasm rips through me and tears through my consciousness and my world fades to black.
â
I wake up to a darkened room, clearly a few hours since I passed out, judging by the dusky sunset peeking in through the windows. Iâm raw, destroyed, shattered. I desperately will my body to move and I feel my heart jump when my fingers twitch against the bed. My eyes dart around the room, taking in the lack of his presence, and for the first time, I feel hope beat in my chest.
And then, I hear footsteps and see him walk into view. My heart sinks. Heâs holding another syringe and he smiles at me. âI see youâre awake, I hope you had a good nap.â
I desperately try to force my body to move but all I get is another pathetic twitch of my fingers. His gaze zeros onto it and he smirks. âLooks like you need a second dose, little bird.â
I want to scream, to beg, to do anything to put up a fight but thereâs nothing that can be done. He comes up to the bed and with gentle fingers, pushes the syringe into my hip and presses the plunger down. Tears drip out of my eyes as I fight against my paralyzed body, my fingers still twitching desperately.
A few moments later, even that movement leaves me. He brushes my hair off my forehead and leans down to press a long kiss against my head. âYouâre mine forever now, little bird.â
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Note: This concept is so hot to me and when I saw a clip of the movie's premise, I knew I had to write this! Hope y'all enjoy! <3
#nsft concept#overstim kink#dark fantasy#cl1t torture#rap3 fantasy#sex and drugs#tw noncon#tw rap3#rap3fetish#overstim nsft#kidnap fantasy
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the fic you just posted of them hurting their s/o while not in control could you do the same scenario with Luffy, Ace and Sabo :3
DESCRIPTION: They hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit
WARNINGS: angst, descriptions of injury, hurt to comfort
CHARACTERS: Lufy, Ace, Sabo | Zoro, Law, Shanks, Mihawk , Crocodile, Kid
WORDS: 2,224
A/N: I finally managed to come up with scenarios for the brothers and I hope you're happy with the result. Thank you for the request!
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
âââââââ
LUFFY
The first thing Luffy saw when he finally snapped out of the strange haze of pure aggression that had possessed him was the horrific sight of your body being hit by his gum-gum whip. One second you were doubled over his arm and as the impact hit you were thrown back at a forceful, blinding speed with no one being able to react in time to stop you from hitting the ground. They could only watch as you crashed loudly against the floor and tumbled, the momentum carrying you until you slid to a stop in a crumbled heap.Â
Usually energetic and first to act, Luffy found himself completely frozen as he stood and stared only at your form finding it unrecognisable. No, it couldnât be you. You looked so tiny as he watched Chopper hurry to your side and roll you over to check on your injuries. Your body was limp and bloodied and it was his fault. Slowly Luffy looked down at his shaking hands and he glared at them as he grit his teeth so tightly he felt like his own jaw would snap under the pressure and if it did, then it was the least he deserved.Â
When everyone was safely on the Sunny and Chopper was tending to your wounds, the others filled Luffy in on what happened. None of them knew something was wrong until it was too late. One minute they were watching Luffy effortless deal with his opponent as he usually did. The next his opponent had done something to him just before falling unconscious. Then everyone was trying to reach their Captain and calm him as he suddenly went on a rampage. Incoherently he was yelling out attacks and throwing them out at random. For the longest time they all held their own and were able to dodge Luffyâs attacks but sadly you got hit just as the rampage.
No matter how much everyone told him it wasnât his fault, Luffy ignored them. Heâd done the worst thing imaginable. Yes, heâd fought Usopp and Sanji, and even Zoro in the past but those were in fights they both agreed to. What heâd done to you⌠again the image of you getting hit flashed in his head and he sharply slammed his fist on the table, leaving the kitchen and ignored Sanjiâs call that dinner would soon be ready. Instead he continued walking until he was perched on Sunnyâs head. Throwing himself down, Luffy tightly shut his eyes and tried to shut everything and everyone out. Â
You woke a day later, pain flaring through your body dizzyingly. Even when you tried to sit up as slowly and as carefully as you could, it was still too much and you could only let out a shuddering gasp and had to go even slower. Exhausted you finally managed to sit up and blinked to notice the iconic straw hat of your Captain and boyfriend on the bed. It must have been set on you while you were sleeping and moved when youâd woken. Gingerly you let your fingers skim the edge of the hat and you pulled it closer. âIâm sorry.â You looked to see Luffy enter, it almost seemed wrong that he wasnât wearing the hat.Â
He knelt on the floor and folded his arms on the bed, looking up at you sadly. As much as he wanted to punish himself, he couldnât bring himself to be apart from you. Your free hand lightly moved to run through his head. âWhy do I have your hat, Luffy?â
âI wanted to show you how sorry I am. Itâs my treasureâŚbut youâre more important to me. Forgive me?â
âLuffy, thereâs nothing to forgive.â You told him softly, using all the strength you could to lift his hat back onto his head where it belonged, relieved to see the visible weight on Luffyâs shoulders lift. It hadnât mattered to him what the others said, he needed to hear it from you and only you to know you didnât hate him. Only your opinion mattered and to know you still loved him and looked at him the same way was all he needed.Â
ACE
He was a monster, this proved it. Ace knew that it was only a matter of time before his evil blood reared its ugly head and made him unrecognisable, made him act against his morals and instincts. Although technically it was an enemy Devil Fruit user that controlled him, ordered him to destroy everything in his path and hurt those he loved, the end result was still the same. A switch had been flipped in his mind and he became a mindless, destructive force of fire and choking ash. It was a miracle no one was killed and that was thanks to you but your intervention came at a price.
When Ace woke from his confusion he felt drained and saw the sea prism cuffs on his wrists but what caught his attention was your pained whimper youâd tried to bite back as Marco got to work on healing you. Through the blue flames Ace could see the swirled burn marks against your arm and shoulder. Sickened he looked away from you and saw the destruction heâd caused. Buildings were now smouldering as his flames were dying down, taken care of by his crew while the people who lived in the small town watched on. There was a small clink and Ace blinked to see Izou unlocking the cuffs, holding Aceâs powers at bay. âWe took care of the bastard that did this to you. You werenât the only one heâd terrorised with his ability but you are the last. No one holds you accountable Ace.â
Despite the kind words, Ace still felt himself falling further into self-loathing he hadnât experienced in a long while. For days he withdrew himself and silently worked with the others to rebuild the village heâd destroyed. He didnât deserve his family in the Whitebeard crew, his didnât deserve Popsâ reassurances, he didnât deserve the tattoo on his back that heâd always displayed proudly. He didnât deserve you and anytime you tried to approach, Ace made a quick escape.Â
At first you decided to give your lover some space to clear his head and work on repairing the village. As much as youâd wanted to do your part, your burns left you unable to do much of the heavier work. Marco had been very insistent that you just sit back and rest and anytime you made a move to so much as look at the tools or materials they were using, the Phoenix would float as if from nowhere and demand to know why you were ignoring his medical orders. During your latest admonishment you felt a stare aimed at you. Looking over you caught Aceâs gaze only to sigh when he quickly lowered his head and walked away. Now it was your turn to ignore Marco and you walked after your boyfriend. You finally caught him on the ship and stood firmly in the doorway, blocking his only escape.Â
âNo more running Ace. We have to talk about this.â You told him, watching him flinch and look at the ground. âLook at me, Ace. Please.â
âI canât bear to see that look in your eyes.â He whispered and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.Â
âWhat look?â You asked. âAce, I donât blame you for my injury. I donât look at you any differently.â
âExactly.â He ground out, hands balling against his sides. âYou should hate me, see me as the monster I am. I canât stand to see you still look at me with love in your eyes.â
âAce Iâll always love you.â You told him, beginning to step forward. Even without looking at you, Ace sensed your advance and responded with a step back.Â
âDonât.â
âI love you Ace.â You reaffirmed. Your fingers reached out to slip around his fist, gently coaxing his hand to relax. âI love you.â You repeated those three impactful words over and over again until you finally felt Aceâs arms wrap around you and let him bury his face into your uninjured shoulder. For every apology that spilled from his lips, you answered with a declaration of love for him, soothing his guilt slowly but surely.
SABO
Normally Sabo would feel nothing but restless excitement to be finally returning to the Revolutionary Army base, to finally see you again. Normally a mission lasting two months would have driven him to make up the time apart to you and promise that his next mission would be short. This time however? He was only returning to quickly give Dragon a report and then demand the next mission available. Preferably the longer the better. Sabo still couldnât shift the pit of ice twisting painfully in his stomach or bring himself to feel anything but shame and heartbreak. Heâd hurt you. On your last mission, an enemy had gotten the better of you both and used his ability to make Sabo his mindless puppet, given the simple order of âdestroy your comradeâ before escaping.Â
While you were fiercely strong and capable, Sabo always had just a little bit more of an edge in combat by comparison and with no restraint, he was deadlier than normal. Knowing you had to fight back against your lover if you wanted to both survive this ordeal. Hack and Koala were outside and you were counting on him to pursue your target while you held your own in your fight, in the hopes Sabo would eventually snap out of it. Youâd done as you intended but one moment of hesitation was all it took.Â
You didnât react in time and Saboâs pipe connected against your head, knocking you to the ground. Dazed and in pain, you tried to push yourself to your feet only to freeze when Saboâs Dragon Talon latched onto your spine. Panic set in and your tried to break free before he properly attacked but in seconds his fingers flexed and you shrieked in agony. Neither of you could tell for certain if the sound of your pain, Koala taking down the target, or the effect of the ability had simply worn off but Sabo released you and staggered back while you passed out from the pain. Had he put any more power into the attack or let it prolong any longer than he had then you would have never been able to walk again.Â
While that was a good result, the damage was already done and you had a long road to recovery to take. Unable to face you or what heâd done, Sabo took the mission he was only now returning from. He hadnât even waited for your to wake. He couldnât justify acting like nothing had happened. The shame was too great for him to face you.Â
âWhat do you mean thereâs no missions?!â Sabo demanded as he stood in Dragonâs office.
âNone for you, not until you settle matters here.â His superior explained, keeping his eyes trained on Saboâs report. âYouâre needed more here than out there, Sabo. Now get to the infirmary.â Unable to disobey a direct order, Sabo nodded and did as he was told. He was a fool to hope he could run forever.Â
Silently he entered the room to see you diligently working through your physiotherapy exercises. Your steps were still slow but you could see the improvement all thanks to the Revolutionaryâs medical team and your own resilience. Hearing the door, you looked up to see Sabo and while you felt relieved to see him home safe, you couldnât help but feel hurt that he hadnât said goodbye in the first place.Â
âDid you get lost?â You asked lightly, a joke you both always said when the other was away for any longer than a week. Sabo couldnât bring himself to answer with his usual cheer and playful tone. Instead he swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced at the doctor.Â
âCould you give us a few minutes?â He requested gently. When the room was empty and you moved to the nearest seat, still finding long periods on your feet to be draining, Sabo cleared his throat. âI know I have a lot of apologising to do and I know none of it is going to change what I did but please know Iâd understand if you wanted to end things and wonât object-â
âHit me, Sabo.â You demanded, shocking Sabo into stopping his rambling.Â
âWhat?â
âHit me, kick me, whatever you want.â You shrugged, watching him approach you slowly.Â
âNo! Iâd never do that to you.â Sabo refused, crouching down in front of you to remain eye-level. His expression became even more confused when you smirked at him in satisfaction.
âExactly. Youâd never hurt me.â You repeated. âYouâd never knowingly or willingly hurt me. You didnât have to run away. I understood.â
âIâm sorry. Iâll make it up to you.â
âJust donât hide from me again, okay?â You asked, reaching out to cup his face. âIf Iâm to get my strength back I need you here to support me.â
âIâll never let you down again.â Sabo promised, leaning into your touch and finally allowed himself to feel the warmth and relief of returning home to you.
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#one piece#one piece imagines#one piece fic#one piece x you#one piece x reader#one piece fanfiction#one piece scenario#one piece angst#luffy x you#luffy x reader#ace x you#ace x reader#sabo x you#sabo x reader#luffy op#monkey d luffy x you#monkey d luffy x reader#monkey d luffy#monkey d. luffy#luffy one piece#portgas d ace x reader#portgas ace x reader#ace one piece#fire fist ace#portgas ace x you#portgas d ace x you#portgas d ace#revolutionary sabo#sabo#one piece sabo
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